#Tom ‘wife guy’ Kazansky

[compacflt]

does thomas kazansky believe hes an honarable man? what does honor mean to him?

i love this question because this is my version of tom kazansky’s whole thing, and i think my version of tom kazansky is a man very conflicted about what honor means—the purpose of everything he does, the way he acts, what he acknowledges and refuses to acknowledge, is to achieve some higher level of honor… one more medal, one more rank, one more star. but of course in his personal life (womanizing, his relationship with mav, all the secret-keeping), he is not an honorable man, no.

and the funny thing is, i don’t think he could answer this question—the fatal flaw of my fanfic, as I’ve written about (and made diagrams etc) here, is that… for plot reasons, no one can really ask him that question! It’s actually very visible in the slider one-shot: every time slider or someone else gets close to asking, “Look, can you just be honest with me about this for a sec,” they literally get interrupted in the middle of their sentence, because for plot reasons Ice can’t actually be pressured to answer a question like that until maverick dies! So I think, if you asked him what honor is, he would say “I’d like to think I’m an honorable man. I have four stars that prove it.” But if you pressured him about some of his actions… what about pulling Bradley’s papers, or your secret illegal relationship… he wouldn’t know what to say. Honor, for him, is whatever the NAVY tells him it is. The navy says honor = four stars, he has four stars to prove how much honor he has earned. Anything in his personal life comes secondary to the honor he’s starving for in the navy. And, he feels like he has no control over his personal life, because he just lets that happen to him.

So—in summary, I’ve been writing him as someone who values professional honor over personal honor, and then ends up paying for that in the end.

But here’s also the thing… I’ve been trying to write him as someone who still TRIES. He’s been given this life…all these secrets… some of it is his fault, yes, but some of it also isn’t. It’s just life. He’s trying to do the best he can within its (admittedly artificial) constraints.

He’s just trying his best. hopefully ive left it up to you to decide if he succeeds.

[the-authoress-writes]

Dangerous Games

Tom “Iceman” Kazansky x Navy Nurse Wife!reader

Synopsis: The saying goes “Play stupid games, win stupid prizes”.

Well, Mrs. Thomas Kazansky is about to learn another version of this saying; “Play dangerous games, win dangerous prizes”.

But she doesn’t exactly mind.

Warnings: Mrs. Kazansky gets a little frisky in public, but nothing explicit, some cursing, and a little bit of steaminess, but again, nothing explicit.

Author’s Note: “I don’t write reader fic”, she said.

“I really don’t”, she said.

But here we are.

And I entirely blame both @valmare and Val himself.

I wrote this as a writing exercise, actually, because @valmare and I have slightly different approaches to Tom Kazansky; she has a more dominant take on him, while mine is more romantic and soppy, but no less passionate (I think).

I wrote this just to see if I could somehow combine both traits/takes in one story.

And… hoo, boy, I like to think I was successful.

That, combined with reading one of my grandmother’s ancient Silhouette Romance novels, I thought it was about time that the turns were tabled on the men.

Let’s be the ones to snap them like twigs, and not the other way around.

Without further ado, here we are!

“So what’s on the agenda today,” she asked her husband, as he sat at the kitchen counter eating his breakfast, while she stood on the other side, finishing her cup of yogurt, before she had to head to work for the shift she was called to fill in at the last minute yesterday.

“Well,” Tom began, after swallowing, “not much, just a meeting which apparently couldn’t wait until Monday, in the afternoon—other than that, nothing else really.

And uh, Mav and the guys are coming back home tonight; like I said last week, Sli and I were going to greet them, and they’re going out for drinks at the O Club later, but I can tell them I can’t go—”

“No, you go, enjoy yourself, I know it’s been a while since you last saw Mav and the flyboys,” she smiled.

In a rare occurrence, Mav and Tom’s deployments didn’t match up, leaving him and Slider on shore, while Mav and Merlin, Wood and Wolf were at sea.

She could hear the calls Tom would make in the evenings to the Vinson, to the various officers who owed him, already rather influential at the recently-received rank of Lieutenant Commander, for updates on Mav in particular.

She’d heard the stories both from the man himself, and from Tom, how the Mitchell name hung like an albatross around the diminutive pilot’s neck, how his basic medical needs were overlooked by dint of his “traitorous” surname.

As a nurse, especially a Navy nurse, it was beyond unconscionable.

She was glad that Mav had Tom as a friend, and it touched her to see the care he extended to his whole TOPGUN class.

“Such a Mother Goose,” Mav and Slider would say, both with sadness, but the former with a soul-deep sadness.

“Are you sure, milaya?” Tom’s voice brought her back to the present, as he came around the counter to step into her personal space, his hands on her waist, infusing her whole being with the warmth that only he could give her. “Because I’m really feeling bad that I have basically a whole day off, and you have to work.

We could have a movie night with some popcorn and ice cream, and you can talk about how people like me are the craziest sons of bitches around,” he grinned, referring to how they met a little over three years ago, after a little training mishap. “I’ll gladly keep your misery company.”

She smiled, resting her hand on the chiseled plane of his bare chest, as her index finger idly played with the chain of his dog tags, “No, like I said, even last week, you go and enjoy yourself with the boys.” Her smile took on a more devilish quirk, “Besides, you can make it up to me later.”

Tom raised an eyebrow, “Oh, I can, can I?”

“I’m pretty sure you’ll manage,” she teasingly replied.

“Uh-huh,” he breathed, stepping impossibly closer, “and how exactly do you want me to make it up to you?”

“You’ll think of something.”

“How about a little down payment, then?”

He didn’t even bother waiting for her positive, always positive, response before one hand was buried in her hair, and his lips were on hers.

It was a kiss full of the easy confidence of a man who knew he was given what he took, and the passion and devotion of one who knew what a gift that was.

She could have gotten lost in her husband’s embrace and kiss for eternity, but the rude realization that she had a shift to prepare for, made her reluctantly, oh-so-reluctantly, push him away.

“As much as I’d really love to continue this, I can’t.

I have to go.”

He pouted like a child, the effect amusing to see on his already-full, kiss-swollen lips, and she gently carded her hand through his hair, soft and slightly curling without the gel, pushing it away from where it flopped onto his forehead. “I know most of this day didn’t pan out how we wanted it to, but we’ll make the best of it—we always do.”

“I know.

You’re sure it’s okay with you if I go out with the boys tonight?”

“Yes, Tom, how many times do I have to tell you?

Go have fun—but not too much fun,” she smiled.

He leaned forward, tucking his head into her neck, inhaling deeply, “You’re the only one I want to have fun with.”

“I would hope so, Thomas Vasilyevich,” she replied, lightly poking him in the side, “seeing as I’m your wife.”

“Oof,” he mock-winced, drawing back to look her in the eyes, “Russian naming me, huh?

Well, Mrs. Kazanskaya, two can play at that game,” he rejoined, leaning in to kiss her again.

However, she pushed him away, laughing, “You are a menace, Thomas Jacob Kazansky!

I have to go!”

“Worth a shot,” he laughed, letting her go.

She gathered her lunch into her bag, along with her paperwork, and shouldered the tote, before turning back to face Tom, who was leaning against the counter, long, sweatpants-clad legs crossed at the ankles, mirroring his arms, a knowing smirk on his lips. “Not going to kiss me goodbye?”

With a sigh, she asked, “If I kiss you goodbye, will you keep your hands to yourself?”

He clicked his tongue, “You drive a hard bargain, lyubimaya moya, but I’ll try.”

“Don’t try, just do,” she replied, amending one of Mav’s favorite sayings, stepping closer to peck him on the lips.

True to his word, he didn’t move an inch, but the regret on his face made her have to resist the temptation to kiss him and say to hell with her shift today. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Okay.”

And here, a sudden idea struck her. “Hey, wait a minute, you said that you guys were going to the O Club, right?”

“Yes,” he replied, drawing out the syllable. “Why?”

“Because I was thinking that if I can, maybe I can meet you guys there, join you flyboys.”

Tom’s eyes lit up. “That’d be great!”

“You guys won’t mind?”

“I won’t mind,” he shook his head.

She good-naturedly rolled her eyes, “I know you won’t mind, what about the guys?”

“I’m sure the guys won’t mind, but they can take it up with me if they don’t like it.

Try to make it?”

“I will—hopefully, I’ll see you later.

And you’re sure you don’t need your other girl today?” she asked, double checking that he didn’t need his Chevelle, since her car was in the shop that week.

“No,” he shook his head, “Slider’s picking me up, you take her.

I love you, milaya.”

“I love you too.”

With that farewell, she dashed out the door, fleeing her own house like Lot, because she knew she’d never leave if she looked back at Tom.

Chaos.

That was what her shift at NMCSD was like.

Some unlucky or hapless person somewhere had probably said “It sure is quiet around here,” or some other variation of that phrase, and brought the wrath of the medical gods down upon them.

She’d had no less than ten emergencies to deal with, and at the end of her shift, she felt—no—knew—she deserved a drink.

A quick glance at her watch showed that it was just before 1800–from her experience, the carriers usually docked at 1500 or 1600, which meant they should all be at the O Club already.

Not wanting to give the charge nurse an opportunity to call her for something else, she practically ripped off her uniform, changing into the nicer spare clothes she kept in her locker just in case she had somewhere to be that wasn’t the grocery or straight home.

It was a worn, but well-fitting pair of jeans, sensible shoes, a tank top, and finally, a white buttondown with vertical blue stripes which she pilfered from Tom’s closet, that she never saw him wear.

After throwing on the shirt, leaving it unbuttoned, and tucking in her tank, she hastily walked (okay, ran) out of NMCSD, and headed to her parking spot.

God had mercy on her, as the traffic was light all the way to the O Club, the Almighty surely knowing that she’d reached her limits of bullshittery, that all she wanted after this day was a stiff drink, and her husband’s company, despite the fact that there would be others around, friends as they were to her.

It was a Saturday night, and the parking lot was full, but she managed to find a spot on the far end of the lot, a slight sheen of sweat breaking on her skin despite the AC, as she maneuvered in, not wanting to scratch her husband’s beloved car.

The flaring, insistent ache in her feet was testament to the long walk to the entrance, exposing just how many people had to be here, and true enough, once she pushed the doors open, the bar was hopping.

She moved through the crowded bar, searching for Merlin, Slider, or Tom—there’d be little hope of finding Wood or Wolf, and no hope of finding Mav, in this press of people.

She was heading through the crowd towards the bar when she smacked straight into someone.

An apology was on her lips, when the person turned, and she heard, “Hey, Mrs. Ice, how are you!”

And she looked up, up, up into the smiling face of Sam “Merlin” Wells.

“Hey, Merls, how are you, how was deployment?” she said, hugging the ludicrously tall RIO.

“Ehh, hot, as usual, but otherwise, uneventful; just running our CAPs, and buzzing the tower every now and then.”

She guffawed, “That’s Mav for you—I don’t know who’s crazier; Mav, or you, for willingly sitting in the same jet as him.”

Merlin leaned down, “Tell you a secret?”

“Sure.”

“Probably me, because I actually enjoy it,” he murmured.

She chuckled, “Oh, Samuel, never change.”

“Hey, what am I doing, let me get you to the guys’ table!

Come on!!”

He put his hand on her shoulder to make sure she didn’t get lost in the crowd, and led her to a table in the back. “Guys, look who I found!”

“Well, hey, if it isn’t my favorite Ice Queen!” Mav cried, leaping to his feet and pulling her into a hug.

“Hey, Mav, how are you?” she beamed, glad to see her husband’s best friend and wingman.

“Better, after seeing your pretty face,” the black-haired pilot grinned a grin which would probably make quite a few people here swoon, if its full force were turned on them.

She smacked his shoulder, though she was unable to stop her smile, “Stop it, you incorrigible flirt, you’re not my type, and even if you were, I’m very happily taken.”

“Ah, you wound me, my fair Ice Queen,” Mav dramatically clutched his chest.

“You’ll live,” she teasingly rolled her eyes.

“Mind getting your hands off my wife, so I can say hello to her, Mav?”

A glance behind Mav showed Tom standing there, a sight in his summer whites, an arch expression on his face, but those who knew him would be able to see the glowing humor in his eyes—but over all, the joy and love.

Mav moved aside, gesturing grandly at her. “All yours.”

“You bet your ass, Mitchell,” Tom nodded.

“Excuse me, I have a very nice ass, I have that on good authority,” the other pilot affrontedly stated as he walked backwards to his seat.

The voice of Charles “Chipper” Piper called, “Ugh, come on, Mav, no one wants to hear about your pasty ass.”

“You’re one to talk, Chip,” Marcus “Sundown” Williams chuckled.

Tom shook his head and stepped closer, making everything else fade into the background, his beautiful smile on his face. “You came.”

“I needed to,” she sighed, “I need a drink.

And the whole you being here is a nice bonus.”

He blushed slightly, ducking his head. “Yeah?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Well, come on, let’s get you that drink,” he replied, leading her to the table, around which sat Mav, Merlin, Slider, Wolf, Chipper, and Sundown.

“Hey guys,” she waved, taking the seat beside Tom.

They all greeted her as Tom called over one of the waitresses, ordering his usual vodka on the rocks along with her usual Old Fashioned.

When it arrived, she shocked them all by drinking more than half of it in one sitting, heavily setting the glass down on the table.

“That kind of day, huh, sweetheart?” Tom asked, his voice full of sympathy, warmth, and the slightest hint of laughter.

She turned a baleful look on him. “What do you think?”

He blinked, obviously weighing his words, the rest of the flyboys holding their breath. “I think maybe I should get you another one when you’re done with that.”

“God, I love you, Tom Kazansky,” she breathed.

The table collectively exhaled, as Tom grinned. “Aren’t I lucky?”

The night wore on, dinner eventually being ordered from the bar’s kitchen for everyone, and Merlin was the first to leave, saying that his wife was coming home late that night from taking care of a medical emergency with her mother, who lived on the other side of the States, and he wanted to be there to greet her.

The flyboys tossed peanuts teasingly at Merlin, Chipper and Mav whooping, Merlin flipping them the bird with both hands as he laughed, and said goodnight.

The remaining group continued on, and the vodkas Tom had drunk had loosened him up—he wasn’t drunk by any means, but his laughter was a bit louder, his eyes a bit brighter.

He was telling a story about one of the instructors from the TOPGUN session he’d been asked to help out with, since he wasn’t deployed this rotation.

It was a story she’d already heard, and so she allowed his words to fade slightly, just watching him as he spoke, fiddling with the straw of the second Old Fashioned Tom had ordered for her.

She smiled as he gestured animatedly, making the light glint off the gold ring on his left hand, which matched the one on hers.

Seeing it did funny things to her stomach, seeing the tangible proof that that man was hers.

Add to that the fact that Tom was in his summer whites… it was a cocktail more intoxicating than anything the bar behind her could ever offer.

She exhaled evenly, taking a sip of the water she’d switched to after her second Old Fashioned, admiring the figure he cut, an exemplar of US Naval excellence.

If you asked her later, she wouldn’t be able to tell you why she did it.

But the devilish thought of wanting to see if she could tilt him off-kilter entered her mind regardless, and she hid a smile behind the rim of her water glass.

She nonchalantly shifted her chair closer to Tom and innocently placed a hand above his knee, making him glance at her, and offer her a fleeting smile, while continuing the story.

Ever so carefully, she inched her way towards the inseam of his trousers, rubbing small circles as she went, which got her a minuscule narrowing of his eyes and a barely-there glance as he spoke.

She smiled back, stilling her hand, and he continued.

Once he had relaxed into his chair again, she began moving again, shifting her hand higher and higher, letting her fingernails catch repeatedly on the seam.

He cleared his throat and soldiered on, shifting in his seat, but the slightest tone of strain was beginning to creep into his voice now, and she mustered all the stoicism she’d learned from her husband to keep her face straight.

As her hand moved further up his inseam, she was treated to the sight of his jaw tensing, the sheen of sweat gathering at his temples, the movement of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed thickly, the sound of the strain in his voice, and the hitch in his breath.

She knew that if she continued this, she was playing a very dangerous game, but she couldn’t bring herself to care at that moment.

So she inched further up, letting her fingernails dig into the seam, flicking it almost audibly, which elicited a cough from her husband.

Slider whacked Tom on the back, saying, “You okay, Ice?”

“Yeah,” he rasped, “just—just swallowed the wrong way.”

At this point, she was mere inches away from being so obscenely high on his thigh that the other flyboys would probably see, but just to see what Tom’s reaction would be, she made as though she were going to go there.

Smoothly, he placed his hand atop hers, somehow managing to conceal the fact that he had plucked her hand from basically his lap, bringing it up to his lips as he finished the story, his eyes stormy as he cut his gaze to her.

Maybe, she realized, as she looked into his tempestuous eyes, maybe she had made a very, very big mistake.

After another hour, they began to wrap up, hugging and slapping each other on the back, and for the first time since she’d met Tom Kazansky, she was not looking forward to being alone with him.

When the final farewells had been spoken, Tom wrapped an arm around her shoulder, walking them towards the distinct shape of his Chevelle, visible now that they were some of the last people at the bar.

“I can drive us, if you want,” she offered, testing the waters.

“No, I’ll be the one.

Keys.”

His tone was unreadable, and she fished the keys out of her pocket, handing them to him.

He led her to the passenger’s side, but just before she reached for the handle to open the shotgun door, she found herself pressed against the back passenger door, looking up into her husband’s face.

She refused to buckle at his impassive stare, looking evenly into his eyes; depthless blue, the color of the sea at twilight, in the dim illumination afforded by the streetlamps.

His hand shifted, and her breath hitched, but he only moved his hand past her, the familiar click of the Chevelle’s door release echoing in the thick San Diego night air.

Tom pulled the door further open, inclining his head and stepping back.

She swallowed, but moved to sit in the passenger’s seat, the sound of the shutting door feeling like some sort of passage of sentence.

Moments later, he opened the driver’s side door, sliding in and shutting it, however, he didn’t start the engine.

She held her breath, waiting to see what he would do next, but he only started the car, the purr of the Chevelle doing nothing to ease her tension, serving only to ratchet it up, the familiar streets leading home passing by.

The silence in the car was almost a living entity, made worse by the fact that Tom kept his eyes firmly fixed on the road before them, and she would be lying if she said that her heart wasn’t racing.

She was beginning to see the reasoning behind her husband’s callsign, between his nonchalant attitude and his unerring patience to wait her out, wait for her to slip.

Well.

She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.

…

She hoped so, at any rate.

She’d always been weak for him, honestly, and she suspected she always would be.

Much too soon, they pulled into their driveway, and Tom cut the engine, leaving her in silence, literally and figuratively, as he stepped out without a word.

She briefly debated whether or not to stay in the car, but knew deep down that that was not an option, so she got out of the Chevelle, also making her way inside.

After locking up the doors and checking the rest of the house, she exhaled and looked warily up at the stairs. “‘Screw your courage to the sticking place,’ woman,” she murmured, striding determinedly up the stairs.

The lights were on in the bedroom, and she saw Tom at the dresser, keeping his submariner in its box, his face somehow still impassive.

She moved to the bed, picking up the pile of night clothes she’d laid out that morning, muttering, “I’m going to the bathroom,” and darted towards the en suite.

However, before she could make it there, a hand wrapped around her upper arm, and once again, she got the breath knocked out of her, finding her body pressed against the wall behind her by the solid mass of her husband before her, his hands on either side of her head.

“What was that about tonight, hmm, milaya?” he spoke lowly, making a shiver run down her spine.

“What was what?” she replied, affecting a light tone.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” he replied, implacable.

“Oh, that,” she shrugged, caving slightly.

“Yes, that.

And just what were you thinking?”

“Ehhh—nothing much, really.” Well, she mentally admitted, that much was true.

“Uh-huh.

See, I think you were trying to get me to lose it,” he declared.

She somehow managed to muster up an innocent expression. “Uh, nope, not at all.”

“Sure.

So your hand at my inseam was just complete coincidence, was it?”

“Has to be.”

He stared her down just like he had in the O Club parking lot, attempting to keep his expression stoic, but this close, she could see his eyes—how there was only a thin ring of midnight gray, his pupils blown wide from the desire he was trying to keep down.

She inhaled sharply, her lips parting, and his gaze immediately locked onto the sight.

When he spoke next, his voice was low and trembling. “You don’t know what you do to me.”

“I think I have some kind of idea,” she breathlessly murmured.

“Fuck—” he whispered brokenly before kissing her like he was at 38,000 feet and she was the oxygen he needed to breathe.

Caught in his riptide, she was helpless but to hold onto him.

Air surged back into her lungs as his kisses moved down to her neck, only to be stolen from them moments later, a cry halfway between pain and pleasure carried on her breath, when his ardor seared into the delicate skin there.

“That hand of yours—and you wearing my shirt—you drive me crazy,” he spoke into the juncture of her neck and shoulder.

“I think you like it, though,” she whimpered, hitching her legs around his unfairly narrow waist, as he adjusted his arms to hold her up.

“Damn it, I fucking do,” he groaned, moving them towards the bed.

They had just collapsed onto the comforter, kissing like teenagers, when he broke away to breathe, “You’re still going to pay for what you did, though, you’re not getting out of that.”

“Oh, am I, because it seems to me like your mouth is writing checks your body can’t cash… Commander,” she cocked her eyebrow.

His jaw dropped slightly, followed by a shaky inhalation. “…I shouldn’t have told you about my rank thing.”

Her smirk was halfway to a grin by now. “What are you going to do about it?”

He tilted his head. “You’re asking for it, at this point.”

“Well, then, do what you’re going to do, flyboy; that’s an order.”

A wicked smirk quirked the corner of his lips, full of promise. “Yes, Ma’am.”

NMCSD: Naval Medical Center San Diego

The USS Carl Vinson is a Nimitz-class aircraft carrier commissioned in 1982, and she is still on active duty.

I stole @valmare’s headcanon that Tom drives a Chevelle, because if it’s good enough for Mir, it’s good enough for me!

I’m so sorry Mir!

According to a production photo, Tom’s full name is Thomas Jacob Kazansky, but since I headcanon him as Russian, his patronymic is missing.

So thusly, you have Thomas Jacob Vasilyevich Kazansky.

When Mrs. Kazansky refers to Tom as Thomas Vasilyevich, that is considered a casual, informal, yet somehow in its own way, formal, method of referring to someone.

There’s cultural rules about that.

Tom calls Mrs. Kazansky “Mrs. Kazanskaya”, which follows the Russian and Slavic convention of gendered surnames.

CAPs: Combat Air Patrols

Summer whites are the white version of the khaki uniforms, and you can see them in The O Club bar scene in Top Gun ‘86.

“Screw your courage to the sticking place” is a quote from Shakespeare’s “Macbeth”.

Did I basically steal a line from Top Gun, and completely change the context of it?

Yes.

Yes, I did.

Mrs. Kazansky calls Tom simply “Commander” instead of Lieutenant Commander, because of the convention regarding “double-barreled” ranks.

Russian Glossary

Disclaimer: endearments and translations taken from Google—please don’t hesitate to correct me if I’m wrong, which, odds are, I am.

Milaya: dear, darling (there are other translations of this word, however)

Lyubimaya moya: my darling/my one and only sweetheart

Taglist

@valmare

If you’d like to join my taglist, just send me an ask!

[lovelytsunoda]

take my breath away // tom 'iceman' kazansky

a traffic jam on the interstate and a diamond ring in a glovebox compartment

temporarily stationed in nevada, tom and heather decide to take a weekend in las vegas to see their favourite new wave band. all the while, all tom can think about when to ask heather to be his wife.

part of the heather and tommy universe started in 'tell me something girl'

pairing: tom kazansky x female oc (named heather)

warnings: fluff overload, marriage proposals, traffic jams.

author's note: guys i know that 'kick' didn't come out until 1987, but bear with me on this one, i was trying to make all of the dates work without the wedding feeling rushed (you'll know what i mean if you check the date headings on 'tell me something girl')

October 25th, 1986. Just outside Las Vegas, Nevada.

the weak air conditioning system in her boyfriend's hummer did nothing to block out the nevada heat as they sat idle, listening to the sounds of engines humming and horns honking. heather schneider held a small camcorder in her hands, the viewfinder trained on her boyfriend's face as he raked his hands through is hair, aviator glasses hiding his eyes. duran duran played on the radio, a tree shaped air freshener dangling in front of the windshield.

"babe, i’m so sorry. i had no idea traffic would be this bad." tom sighed, pushing up his glasses so he could run his hands over his face.

the move to nevada had been sudden. back home in virginia after graduating top gun, tom wasn't expecting to get marching orders so fast after coming back from a mission. the two harrowing weeks in the ocean after the academy had rattled him a little, and he was looking forward to finally spending time with heather again. now, he was scared about what nevada would to do his relationship with heather, until heather dropped a bombshell of her own.

she was quitting her job.

working in a law firm that did work closely with the us military did things to a person. and one day, heather just snapped. she came home in tears and told him that she couldn't do it any more.

and then she quit.

and now she was in nevada with no idea what she was going to do with her life. tom was stationed at the nellis air force base, which was very near to the las vegas motor speedway, a place they spent many a weekend watching stock car racing. tom was easing into his role at nellis quickly, seamlessly and with his trusty backseater ron kerner at his side.

heather was still lost. deployment was only for five months, part of a training program for a plane that most people in the military weren't even aware of yet. and after that five months? would they go back to virginia? stay in nevada? where would she work?

"kaz, stop worrying. the concert isn't until tomorrow night anyways." she soothed, running her thumb over his knuckles. the hummer eased forward, but traffic was still at a crawl.

"nellis is eight fucking miles outside of vegas, why can't we get into the city on a friday?"

"because everybody else is also trying to get into the city on a friday."

in the three months they had already lived in nevada, despite only living eight miles outside sin city, heather had still never been to vegas. never walked down the strip, never seen a show.

until tom surprised her with tickets to watch australian new wave band INXS play at ceasers palace. the band meant so much to heather, and she had been waiting for this weekend for the last six weeks.

tom, on the other hand, knowing the significance of the weekend had something bigger planned. the ring was burning a hole in his glove box, right next to his service weapon.

all that time away had taught him one big thing: he wanted heather in his life, by his side, for the rest of his life.

"hey, heath, do you remember that blue bungalow in miramar? the one that was on the water, with the backyard that walked out onto that small square of beach?"

"yeah, why?" heather hummed, panning the camera over at the traffic in front of her. the pair never went anywhere without their cameras, digital or video. there were envelopes full of negatives in their apartment, shoeboxes bursting at the seams with pictures they'd taken since they started dating in the spring of 1985.

tom tapped his slender fingers against the steering wheel, easing the hummer forward another few feet as traffic picked up, and then promptly slowed. he moved to roll down a window due to the heat, but then reversed his decision after smelling the latent gasoline exhaust in the air and hearing the noise of the jam.

"it's for sale. has been for a while, miramar isn't a hot area for us young people." he stopped to take a breath, looking over at heather. her eyes sparkled as she turned to look at him, popping a small pretzel into her mouth. her large, round prescription sunglasses made her look like an owl.

he adored every part of her.

"i want to put a deposit down. with your permission, of course. i know your life is in virginia, and we can go back if that's what you want. but i see a life for us in that house. kids, a dog. at some point, i want to teach at top gun. that's where maverick is, where slider is going to go. but none of that means anything if you aren't with me, heath."

heather closed the camcorder, dropping it into her lap as she reached for tom's hand, clasping it between both of hers. "tom, i'd love to. let's do it. let's move to california."

tom's heart swelled with love as he brought heather's knuckles up to give her a gentle kiss. everything was finally coming together. they were ready to start their life together.

and he knew he needed to ask. he had planned to wait until they were in the city, planned to get down on one knee underneath the false eiffel tower and present heather with his grandmother's ring.

but, as impulsive as it may be, he knew he needed to ask her. in the middle of stalled traffic on a nevada freeway. his hair had grown out since he'd come home from top gun, bangs curling into his eyes and sticking up in all ways after he pushes his glasses up.

"babe, pass me the camcorder and take a look in the glove box." tom said, putting the hummer in park. he would have turned the engine off to save gas, but who knew if traffic would pick up again and he'd have to drive off the freeway?

after heather passed him the small metal camera, he popped it open, discreetly recording as she opened the glove box. her sunglasses held her long, brunette hair back like a headband as she rooted around the compartment.

"behind the service weapon, sweetheart. it's a small pink box."

"found it." she hummed, her manicured fingers clutching the small cardboard box. (tom had been insistent that she go get her nails done with slider's girlfriend maria before they left nellis, but she had no idea why).

she pulled the lid off the box, a gasp getting caught in her throat when she saw the stunning sterling silver ring, and the large blue stone in the middle, framed by diamonds.

"this is your grandmother's ring."

tom's parents were polish immigrants. when his parents left poland with nothing, they brought his father's mother with them (his mother's parents would follow later). angela kazanzky was classically trained ballerina with the warsaw ballet corps, but had left poland with almost nothing after her husband was killed. all she brought with her was a suitcase of clothes, and that sapphire engagement ring.

"heather, the time i spent at top gun taught me a lot of things. how to be a better man, a better soldier and a better pilot. but it also taught me that i hate being away from you. i hate waking up at the crack of dawn and you aren't there next to me." tom began, reaching for heather's hand. she turned to look at him, eyes wide and hands shaky as the gravity what this was set in. "i hate coming home at the end of the day to an empty dorm without you there. yeah, i love the guys, and i love this job. but none of that holds a candle to the way that i love you, heather anne schneider. i was going to wait until we actually got to vegas to do this, but now's as good a time as any."

he smiled nervously, a shock of giddy, pure love shooting through her veins when she looked at him, an equally wide smile breaking out across her face.

"heather, will you marry me?"

"yes! yes, tom, of course i'm gonna marry you. is this what that house talk was all about? yes, of course i'll do it!"

"thank you." tom exhaled, speaking so softly that she almost didn't hear it. he extended his open palm, waiting for her to press the ring into his palm. she was a giggling mess, trying to hold her hand steady while tom slid the cold metal band onto her ring finger. "i'm so in love with you, and i hope we stay this happy forever."

god, she loved that man.

"i love you more, lieutenant."

stretching as far as her seatbelt would allow, heather leaned over the hummer's center console, kissing her fiancé with an intensity that was out of place on the freeway. she couldn't stop staring at the rock on her finger, and thinking about the promise that it represented.

they were forehead to forehead, full of giddy smiles, the camcorder resting on tom's lap still recording as the pickup truck behind them began to honk.

traffic was flowing normally, and they hadn't even noticed.

they broke apart, laughing as they stowed away the camcorder and the now-empty ring box. tom put the car in drive, throwing his middle finger up at the driver behind them.

they were both still smiling, daydreaming about what their new life together would bring them. heather reached for the radio, turning up the volume as they began to play INXS' 'never tear us apart'.

tom smiled fondly, looking over at her as she began to sing.

"this is going to be our wedding song." she smiled to herself.

the following year, they would get married in monterrey, and they would have their first dance to that same song, heather in a simple white dress, and tom in his navy dress whites. and two years after that, they would welcome their first of three children.

and when mitchell kazansky got married? he used that same sapphire ring to propose to his now-wife amelia.

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @sidcrosbyspuck @diorleclerc @lorarri @cartierre @userlando @thatsdemko

[topguncortez]

What to Expect | Chapter 5

previous part | masterlist | next part

synopsis: your mother figures out your secret. Jake and Bradley have been taking turns being by your side. The toll of your pregnancy is starting to affect Bradley more than he says.

word count: 3.7k

warnings: pregnancy, vomiting, cursing, mentions of infidelity, fighting, fear.

The relationship that Tom Kazansky had with his four kids was a strong one. He got married to Sarah not long after they graduated high school. Tom wanted to make her his before he set out and joined the Navy. Sarah became pregnant with their first child Stephanie that following fall of the same year. Gia was born two years later, and after her was Dylan. Ice loved his two daughters to pieces. He spent every waking moment that he could with them. He was very hands on, teaching them how to ride a bike, playing catch in the backyard. He would even take them to the hangar every so often to see all the planes and gadgets. 

After Dylan, they took a break from having kids. Ice worked on climbing the ranks becoming an admiral before his fortieth birthday. But before turning forty, Sarah had just one more surprise for him. And that surprise would turn out to be you, their last child. Ice was brought to tears as the doctor placed you in his arms. Out of all the kids, you looked the most like him. People joked that you were his twin, and they were exactly right. 

Your three older siblings all followed in your fathers footsteps, and joined the Navy. Dylan was a fellow pilot like your father, earning the callsign Frost. He was currently stationed in Italy, and only came back for Christmas. Gia worked in the Law department for the Navy, working right under the JAG. And Stephanie worked as a doctor at the hospital on base. Everyone expected you to follow your fathers footsteps. You were just like him in so many ways. You had his attitude, his eye for precision, his confidence. But, you swore off the Military. You had enough of the military, growing up in it and watching your three other siblings follow into it. So when you came home one day and told your parents you were going to college to become a teacher, they actually celebrated. 

Ice knew everything about you before sometimes you even knew. So he knew you were in love when you came strolling into the house after spending an entire night out. He could see that lovesick look in your eye as you sat down at the breakfast table and tried to bluff your way through the interrogation that your mother was giving you. He had been able to know when you were lying, but he never said anything about it. So Ice wanted to know who had his daughter laughing and smiling at her phone. And then, you told him about Jake. 

At first, Ice was skeptical about Jake. He had seen far too many young men like him in his line of work, and didn’t want him around his youngest girl. But you assured your father that Jake was different. And Ice could see it when you brought him home for the first time. Ice watched as Jake treated you with the utmost respect, as if you were the admiral in the family. Ice could also see the lovesick look in Jake’s eye. He had seen that look before, he had seen it in the way Nick Bradshaw would look at his wife Carole, or how Maverick looked at his kawasaki. Jake Seresin was in love with you from the moment he met you. 

You had moved with Jake to Lemoore after he graduated TopGun. Though, Ice thought it was somewhat absurd to move in with a guy you’ve only known for ten weeks, but he did almost the same when he had met his wife. Tom and Jake had had a conversation not long after the Uranium Mission on when Jake was going to pop the question to you. Jake had already asked for your hand in marriage months ago. So it was very confusing when Ice woke up to you calling him in the middle of the night. He had tried to make sense of all the crying but had a hard time understanding you. What he did gather was that you were breaking up with Jake and moving home. 

For the past six months, you and Ice had been like peas and carrots again. The two of you would eat breakfast together every morning after working out in the home gym. The two of you sat at the kitchen table, like you were in grade school again, while Ice worked on paperwork and you worked on lesson plans. Ice loved having his little girl home again. He missed seeing your face around the house, or working on the old car out in the garage. But like before, Ice could tell if there was something wrong with you. And his dad senses were firing rapidly as he watched you poke around at your dinner. 

“Are you feeling alright, Bug?” Ice asked and you looked up from your plate. 

To be honest, you were fighting back the urge to gag at the sight of the chicken and rice casserole that was placed in front of you. It used to be one of the favorite dishes your mom made, but right now, you would be okay if you never ever saw it again. 

“Mhm, just fine, daddy,” You nodded, giving your father a tight lipped smile. But Ice was not convinced. He narrowed his blue eyes looking at you. He noticed the vice grip you had on your fork, and the way your knee was bouncing rapidly. You gulped as you set your fork down and grabbed your glass of water. You let out a shaky breath as you took a sip, hoping it would cease the rising bile in your throat. 

“Are you sure, sweetheart?” Sarah asked her daughter, “You look a bit green.” 

You were going to nod again, when you gagged, and covered your mouth with your fist, “Can I be dismissed?” 

“Yes, come on,” Sarah said, standing up from her seat rapidly, to get to you. But you moved quicker than her, pushing away from the table and ran to the closest bathroom on the floor. Sarah flinched as she heard the door slam and looked at her husband, “Can you get some ginger ale from the fridge, please?” 

“Sure thing,” Ice said. He grabbed a green can from the fridge and went back down the hallway, where his wife still stood outside the bathroom door, knocking on it lightly. 

“Thanks,” Sarah said, taking the can from him, “She won’t open the door. I can hear her still getting sick. How about you go and clean up the dining room, I’ll keep trying.” 

“Okay,” Ice kissed the corner of his wife’s mouth before going back down towards the dining room. 

Sarah waited until she heard the clank of silverware, to knock gently on the door, “Bug, it’s me. Open up.” 

Sarah heard the door unlock and gently pushed the door open. She stood in the doorway and looked at you as sat on the bathroom floor, breathing slowly in and out. Your hands were still shaking and your stomach was still doing flips. The nausea patches Doctor Miller prescribed you weren’t doing shit. It seemed as though your sensitivity to smells overrode the nausea patch. 

“Stomach flu?” Sarah asked. She watched as you took a moment before nodding. You were lying to her. She waited a beat before stepping into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her, “What’s really going on, Bug? I know that you’re lying to me. Tell me what’s going on.” Sarah sat down across the small bathroom from you. You blinked back the tears that threatened to fall, but it was useless. 

Your father had a perfect family image. He has had that image for years, going back before he was even a father, and even before he was born. The Kazanskys came from a long line of Military excellence. They did things by the book. They got married, and settled down, and had the next generation of servicemembers. They didn’t go out drinking until the black out, or got permanent ink on their bodies, or got pregnant before they were married. But here you were, about to ruin that perfect image your father has fought so hard to uphold and maintain. 

“I’m sorry,” You said barely above a whisper. Sarah’s eyebrows furrowed, “I’m pregnant, mom.”

“Oh,” Was all your mother said, and a sob left your lips. Sarah didn’t think twice as she moved over to your side of the bathroom, and pulled you into her arms. Like your father, you also had an obsession with the perfect image, and Sarah knew it. She knew that you had a plan, and that you wanted to stick to that plan, come hell or high water. The break up with Jake had been the first wrench thrown, and now, an unplanned pregnancy was the next. 

“I’m so sorry,” You cried. 

“Shh, shh, there’s nothing to be sorry about,” Sarah said, rubbing your back, “It’ll be okay.” 

“Daddy’s gonna be so mad at me,” You sobbed out and Sarah held you even tighter. There was only one man who meant everything to you, and that was your father. In all your years, you had tried your best to please him and do what he expected of you. When you didn’t go into the Navy, you knew you had to find a career that would exceed his expectations. Ice never specifically said that he had high expectations, it was just one of those things that was known and understood in the family. 

“He’s not, Bug,” Sarah said, and wiped the tears from her daughter’s face, “He will not be mad at you. And if he is, he’ll have to answer to me. He might be the admiral of the Navy, but I am admiral of this house,” You laughed at your mother’s words. She smiled sadly at you, “How far along are you?” 

“Fourteen weeks today,” You sniffled and grabbed your phone from the countertop. You opened your camera roll and found the picture of the sonogram. Sarah cooed as she looked at the photo. 

“Oh, my first grandchild,” She said, “I bet they’ll look like Bradley.” 

“Bradley?” You asked and Sarah looked up at you. 

“You aren’t with Rooster? You two have been around each other a whole lot these last couple months, I just assumed.” 

“No, momma,” You shook your head, “It’s actually, Jake’s. I, uh. . . . I slept with him. And we made that.” 

Sarah blinked in surprise. She certainly thought something was happening between you and the Bradshaw boy. It wasn’t uncommon for Bradley to be over and hang out with you, and Sarah could see the way he looked at you. The boy looked at you like you could move heaven and earth. But she had also seen Jake look at you the same exact way. Sarah withheld her comments and squeezed her daughter’s hands. 

“Well, either way, this baby is going to be loved and cherished,” Sarah smiled and you looked up at her, “I am so happy for you.” 

“Even if this wasn’t what was supposed to happen? Even though Stephanie or Gia, or hell even Dylan were supposed to have kids first.” 

“We both know Dylan won’t be having kids of his own for a very long time,” Sarah said and you laughed, “But yes, I am so happy for you, even if its a bit unexpected. And I know your father will be-” 

“Oh no,” You said, scooting away from your mother. 

“Are you going to be sick again?” Sarah asked, worry evident in her voice. 

“Daddy can’t know,” You said, shaking your head and Sarah frowned, “H-He can’t. He doesn’t even know why Jake and I broke up. And if he finds out that we had-” 

“Trust me, Bug, we’ve known that you and Jake have been sexual active for years,” Sarah said and your jaw dropped, “Why do you think condoms mysteriously end up in your bathroom when you’d come home for visits?” 

“Okay, ew,” You shook your head, “But it’s besides that. Daddy has an image, and this,” You pointed at your stomach, “Goes against the image. He’ll want Jake and I to get married, a-and I can’t do that. It’s bad enough that I have to share a child with him.” 

“He will not try to do that,” Sarah tried reasoning with you. If there was one thing Sarah had learned over the years, it is that there was no changing the mind of a Kazansky who had their mind made up already, “I won’t tell him, or pressure you. But you need to, sooner or later. I hate to tell you this, Bug, but you’ll start to show soon.” 

“Jake already thinks I am,” You smiled down at your little bloated bump. 

“You two alright?” Ice said, knocking on the door. You looked at your mother scared and she gave you a calming smile. She stood up from the floor and opened the door, seeing her husband looking at her with concern, “Is Y/N okay?” 

“She’s fine,” Sarah said, “She got her flu shot today and it made her a little nauseated.” 

“Oh no,” Ice said, looking around his wife and seeing you laying your head on your arm, resting on the closed toilet seat, “Does she need anything?” 

You thought for a moment. What you really wanted was Hot Cheetos and a Slim Jim, but you thought that might raise some questions. Instead, you lifted your head slowly and looked at your dad. 

“A mango ice pop,” You said and Ice smiled at you. 

“Got it, Bug,” Ice said and left the doorway. 

You waited a moment until you heard your dad open the garage door to go to the freezer, “I’ll be okay Momma. You can go now.” 

“If you need anything, let me know, okay. I had four babies myself, I kind of know how these things go,” Sarah said and it felt like a weight off your shoulders. You nodded and Sarah came over to you and placed a kiss on your head. 

You let out a sigh as she closed the door. You pushed yourself off the floor and brushed your teeth, rinsing the gross taste from your mouth. Your eyes fluttered down to your stomach, you had a hard time imagining what you would look like even a week from now. Everyday your little baby was growing, according to the facts that Jake sent you. You smiled to yourself and grabbed your phone, pulling up your text messages. Jake had told you the other day that you could text him for whatever you needed and he’d do it. 

‘Y/N: baby cravings.’ 

You rinsed off your toothbrush and grabbed the bottle of mouthwash. A ding cut through the quiet bathroom and you looked at your phone. 

‘Jake: what can I get you?’ 

‘Y/N: hot cheetos and slim jims’ 

‘Jake: those can’t be good for you?’ 

‘Y/N: Don’t tell me what’s not good for me.’ 

‘Y/N: one could argue getting pregnant is not good for me. But here we are’ 

You watched as the message went from ‘delivered’ to ‘read’ and as the three dots danced on the screen. You knew Jake was probably contemplating what to say back to you. You knew you were being a bit harsh towards him at times, but you blamed it on the hormones. 

‘Jake: I’ll be over soon.’ 

— — — 

Jake was exhausted. And everyone could see it as he walked into the hangar every morning. He had dark bags under his eyes and he was moving slowly. Coyote had to nudge him several times during their morning brief on the plan for the day. He had spent every night for the last couple weeks staying up with you. It felt like he was in high school again as you would sneak him after your parents went to bed, and bring him up to your room, where he would then spend anywhere from two to three hours trying to help you fall asleep. He was amazed at how you could go to bed so late at night and wake up so early in the morning. But you also told him that you go to the nurse’s office during lunch and take a nap. The caffeine withdrawals were really starting to hit you, and you hated it. Jake would leave the house before Ice got up and hoped that he didn’t catch his car in the driveway.

One of the best things to come from these past few weeks was the fact that you had another ultrasound. Jake was looking forward to the ultrasound every four weeks, circling the appointment dates on his calendar in bright red marker. He even bought a frame to highlight the growth of the baby, and put the ultrasound pictures in it. Every morning he woke up to the sight of his baby, and he loved it. You also gave your mom and Bradley copies of the ultrasound. 

On top of Jake’s exhaustion, Rooster was also tired, but in a different sense. He was spending all his free time with you. Whether it was holding your hair back while you threw something up, driving all over San Diego to satisfy your cravings, or rubbing your feet. You had told Rooster that he didn’t have to do these things for you, but he insisted that he wanted to. It made him feel like he was helping you by being your running maid. But Rooster was also tired of hearing you talk about Jake. It was bad enough that Rooster had to see him every day, but going to your house and hearing you talk about him was even worse. 

“Any questions?” Maverick asked, looking at his pilots. Ice was standing off to the side with Cyclone and Warlock. His blue eyes looked at the group, landing on two pilots who were fast asleep. 

“Bradshaw! Seresin!” Ice yelled and the two pilots jumped, and scrambled out of their seats, “Group, dismissed. You two, stay back.” 

In the past weeks, Ice had noticed a couple things about his newest instructors. One, they seemed to both have a sudden infatuation with his daughter. Though that wasn’t any different than normal, what was different was the hostility towards one another. They were constantly undermining each other in class and up in the air. Ice had seen this type of behavior before, and usually there was a girl behind it. 

Ice had also noticed there was a change in his daughter. She was spending less and less time with him, bringing up Jake’s name more, and he had caught Bradley with his hand on her belly the other night while they watched a movie. Ice had also noticed the way that Jake had seemed to adapt a new teaching approach. He was calmer than usual, taking time to explain what went wrong during the hop and how to do better. Jake usually took his win in stride and told the TopGun trainee “better luck next time” and walked away with a smirk. 

Jake and Bradley waited as Ice went to go talk to Maverick. Bradley looked over at Jake and rolled his eyes. He didn’t even look slightly nervous, as Bradley was shaking in his boots. Bradley thought that Jake was probably never nervous to talk to admirals and higher ranking officers. He had that sick southern charm and a million dollar smile. 

“Take a picture, Bradshaw, it would last longer,” Jake said. 

“This is your fault,” Bradley said. 

“And how is this my fault?” Jake asked, rolling his eyes. 

“If you weren’t a jackass and put a condom on, I wouldn’t have to be tending to your baby momma,” Bradley said. 

“What was that, Bradshaw? My baby momma?” Jake walked over to him, “She’s mine, Buckles,” The nickname dripped venom as Jake said it and Bradley clenched his jaw, “So back off my girl, and back off my kid. Go play make believe somewhere else.” 

Before Bradley could respond, the door to the classroom slammed shut. Ice’s brown dress shoes clicked across the floor as he walked to the front of the room. Jake took a step away from Bradley and looked at the admiral. Ice’s face was unreadable as he looked at the two of them. 

“I don’t know what the hell is going on, and nor do I care, but it needs to end,” Ice said, crossing his arms over his chest, “I would hate for you two young officers to be written up and kicked out of the instructor program.” 

“I’m sorry, Sir,” Jake said, and Bradley fought the urge to scoff. Ice looked at Jake and then to Bradley. He could tell that there was something that the pilot wanted to say and was biting his tongue. 

“Seresin, you’re dismissed,” Ice said and Jake looked at Bradley and then nodded. Ice watched as Jake left the room before taking a step closer to Bradley. 

As close as Tom and Jake were, Tom’s bond with Bradley was even stronger. After Goose’s death, Ice felt responsible for the wellbeing of the little boy. When he set up college funds for his four kids, he also made one for Bradley, and never told Carole. When Bradley found out that his tuition costs had been paid for, he was on the first flight to California to tell Ice that he was going to work and pay him back every cent. Ice simply told Bradley that he could repay him by becoming the next commander of the Pacific Fleet. Bradley promised that one day he would do exactly that. 

“Now, I can deal with Y/N not telling me the truth cause she’s been doing it for years. . . but you. . . You have never lied to me,” Ice said and Bradley gulped, “What’s going on?”

“I can’t tell you, Sir. I made a promise to Y/N.” 

Ice smiled at the boy. He was always her keeper, “Fine. But make nice with Seresin. I’m tired of the constant bickering and complaining.” 

“Will do, Sir,” Bradley nodded. 

“Your parents would be proud of you,” Ice said and pushed off the desk and walked out of the room. 

Bradley took a deep breath. He hoped that he was doing something to make his parents proud. Pulling his phone out of his pocket he noticed there was a snapchat from you. He smiled as he opened it. It was of you in the teacher’s bathroom at work, cradling your very small bump. Bradley took a screenshot of the picture, then locked his phone. He had a smile on his face for the rest of the day.

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[redfurrycat]

White Collar and Top Gun Fusion

Special Agent for the FBI in the white-collar crimes division Bradley Bradshaw once arrested white-collar criminal Jake Seresin, alias the Hangman.

The Hangman is a charming and sophisticated con artist known as such because he cockily leaves a hangman game on each crime scene (leading to his next theft). However, Agent Bradshaw cracks his hangman code which has allowed him to finally capture the elusive criminal.

(Un)fortunately, his criminal talents in counterfeiting are coveted by the white-collar crimes division. The FBI IceBoss Tom Kazansky strikes a deal with him: serving his remaining four-year sentence as an anklet-wearing consultant to the FBI. Seresin accepts the deal as long as he gets Agent Bradshaw as his handler. (What? The guy has brains and is sweet on the eye –his moustache notwithstanding–, and he likes ‘hem smart and pretty.)

Agent Bradshaw has no choice but to obey his bossdad. He’s thus now working with the infuriating, cunning, and not at all appealing criminal alongside his newly formed white-collar team –Agents Natasha Trace and Bob Floyd. The team has a particularly high solved-cases rate, mainly due to the duo très spécial working together.

FBI consultant Jake Seresin has the time of his life: he lives in a beautiful and richly decorated house with Penny Benjamin, the charming landlady; he wears her late husband’s styled suits and hats; he finds his criminal and genius best friend Javy Machado again and often asks him for help in various FBI cases…

About that…He is surprised how much he likes using his devilishly almost-too-good-to-be-true talents (‘ugh’, says Bradley, every single time) for the other side of the law. His colleagues Trace and Floyd are really nice too: he banters with Phoenix like he would his own sister, and fondly annoys Bob like he would a little brother.

He expects even less to fall for Agent Bradshaw. Bradley. The Hawaiian-shirt-wearing and by-the-book special agent appears to be a little grumpy on the outside, especially with him, but Jake is trying to shatter Bradley’s walls, and he will succeed eventually. They have numerous evening talks during which they share personal details, and pretty much bicker about every possible subject.

Jake also meets the IceBoss’ trophy wife and Bradley’s godfather, Pete (‘Call me Maverick’) Mitchell. Maverick is a mechanic and an engineer, and he does some consultant work when the FBI needs his expertise. These two become thick as thieves, as they have similar minds, and Maverick often invites Jake for dinner (Bradley whines ‘Mav, whyyyyyyyyy?!’ meanwhile Ice is questioning his husband’s –matchmaking–motives…‘Trust me IceBaby, I know what I’m doing.’)

It is Mav who convinces Jake to go for it, because his oblivious godson would never act on his feelings, he’s too cautious (‘Ah. The snug-on-his-perch type’…..‘Well, yeah, but he has his reasons.’). However, Mav is sure he likes Jake because Ice has told him Bradley often comes in his office to rant about Hangman (‘Ice, he’s yet again charming such and such, he’s unprofessional!’… Also Ice has the patience of a saint).

Thus Jake begins wooing Bradley à la Hangman: he leaves him complimentary notes disguised as hangman games on his desk, he delivers perfect art forgeries in Bradley’s effigy (paintings, sculptures, drawings,…) at his home –Bradley’s both scandalised and reluctantly charmed– and, on one memorable occasion, Bradley’s gifted a Carrara-marbled, life-sized and very much naked statue of Jake. He stays speechless for an abnormal amount of time and can’t look Jake in the eye (héhé) for some time. He’ll deny it, but Bradley keeps the statue. Of course, he keeps the statue! Finally, Jake’s last and most romantic move is to offer Bradley a piano he's personally restored! It’s the final straw for Bradley: he jumps him so hard his neighbours call the police to report *suspicious* noise.

[After their “strenuous” activities, Jake asks Bradley if he has succeeded in accomplishing his most spectacular heist.

Bradley: And what would that be?

Jake: Have I finally succeeded in stealing your heart?

Bradley: For a seductive bastard, you are ridiculously corny sometimes…but if you must know. Yeah, you did.]

Once they get their act together, Bradley feels comfortable enough to do some wooing of his own: he serenades Jake with skillful renditions of 'Smooth Criminal' on the piano as well as old romantic ballads.

[wishfulwithwine]

Fathers

Beau Cyclone Simpson x Fem!WifeReader

Warnings: pregnancy, terrible fathers, cursing, alcohol, abandonment, navy, death

Author - couldn’t get this concept out of my head! not edited, just needed to write it all out, so i apologize if it’s terrible.

photo from pinterest:

For how stern Beau ‘Cyclone’ Simpson was, his wife was the epitome of sunshine. If Y/N Simpson worked in the Navy, Warlock joked your callsign was ‘Sunshine’. You added the softness to the relationship in public, however you would say that your husband was a romantic. You viewed him as the love of your life, your protector, and the only person either of you loved more than each other would be your newborn son.

Beau planned all your dates, would always randomly bring you flowers, and made sure every day you knew you were the most beautiful woman in his eyes. 

You were Beau’s heart, and although some of the Navy guys teased he didn’t actually have one, no one could deny the personality change that seemed to happen when you were around. You were the light of his life, and your newborn son was another beacon that made Beau’s heart brighter. 

“Baby, do you want me to hold him?” Beau asked, concerned as he watched you walking up the with your Tommy in your arms. You didn’t look like you were in pain, but since delivering less than two weeks ago, he was still nervous.

“Sweetheart, I love you, but I’m good. He’s good right now” You said, with a soft smile, before looking down at your son who was awake but just sucking on his pacifier for now. Smiling, Beau kept walking besides you, as he rolled the stroller with plenty of “in case” bags. 

As first time newborn parents, you didn’t know what was going to happen with leaving your house for more than a few minutes. As a Navy Admiral, Beau usually planned for everything - so he packed multiple bags for multiple scenarios - crying, sleeping, eating, etc. Another reason you two got along so well was because you both were very “type A”. 

Today was Admiral Kazansky’s funeral however, and although you had not brought Tommy to the actual funeral, Sarah Kazansky had requested that he appeared at his namesake’s house afterwards. 

Tommy - Thomas Jeremy Simpson - was named after Admiral Tom “Iceman” Kazansky, the man who was basically a father to Y/N after her own father had ignored her. In all sense of the word parents, that was Admiral and Mrs. Kazansky to Y/N. They had been the ones at her high school graduation, college graduation, wedding, and this past week, birth of her son. 

Only a few people had been at the hospital the day Tommy was born - Sarah and Tom Kazansky, Warlock, and Y/N’s best friend. Ice was incredibly honored to have been his ‘grandson’s’ namesake, tears streamed down his face when Beau had broken the news.

Her actual father…well he cared more about the son of his best friend to ever pay attention to his own. Most people didn’t even know he had a daughter. 

You met Beau after a dinner party at Kazansky’s. He’ll never forget when he saw you in that dress, how you radiated beauty with your kind smile. Despite his reputation, he couldn’t help but stare at you, as you talked with many others before making your way over to his group. 

“Y/N darling, this is Vice Admiral Beau ‘Cyclone’ Simpson” Ice introduced, and he watched as you smiled warmly at him, before looking at Ice, a smirk appearing on your lips.

“This is the infamous Cyclone? He doesn’t look so bad” You replied, your hand reaching out to shake his. Surprising the group, he took your hand and pressed a kiss to the back of your palm, keeping his eyes locked onto yours. The Kazansky’s looked to each other with confusion on their faces.

“What have you heard about me?” He replied, a raised eyebrow but playfulness in his eyes. You smiled widely, and Ice couldn’t help but feel a smile creep on his face. 

“Ice thinks you’re too much of a rule follower” You replied, as Ice sighed, rolling his eyes at your comment.

“Well someone has to be. Can’t keep letting Maverick off the hook every time he pisses off an admiral” Beau says, slight annoyance in his tone about Maverick, but as he watched Tom and Sarah’s head turn swiftly to you, gauging your reaction, he could see he said something wrong.  

“I’m going to get some more to drink. Would anyone like more?” You said, a forced smile on your lips. He nodded caught your gaze, following you over to the bar. He could feel Tom’s staring on his back, which he shook off as he looked at you. 

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Do you know Maverick?” Beau asked, curiosity over taking him. You looked back at him, nodding before pouring some more wine in your glass. He poured some more whiskey in his glass.

“I’m assuming you don’t like him very much?” You replied, deciding to not give much away about how you know Maverick. He shrugged, when you met his gaze again. Your expression wasn’t alluding to a positive nor a negative relationship. Did you date him? 

“There’s a reason he hasn’t had a promotion more than Captain. He might be friend’s with Ice, but…” Beau said, trailing off on how best to describe him.

“He doesn’t care about rules. Very his way or the highway” You replied, rolling your eyes as you took a big sip of your wine. Beau looked at you curiously, and when you looked back at him you sighed. “Trust me, I’m with you on it. He’s my father, but we haven’t spoken in about ten years” You said, and Beau froze.

“I’m so sorry” He said, but you smiled warmly at him, reaching out your hand to place on his shoulder.

“Please, don’t worry about it. Ice is more of my father than he is. Now, should I call you Beau or Cyclone? Which would you prefer?” You asked, switching topics easily. He smiled, putting his hand over yours.

“You can call me Beau. What do you do for work?” He asked, as he saw you smiled wider.

The whole night the pair of you stayed by each other’s side, causing Sarah to rearrange some of the dinner place cards so you two could sit together. The Kazansky’s, as well as the rest of the guests at the dinner party,  watched as you laughed and flirted with the Vice Admiral, and Cyclone smiled for almost the whole night, a rare sight for those involved with the Navy. The other officials were in shock. 

“Did you give him drugs?” Warlock asked Ice, as they both stared at Cyclone and you, laughing together. 

“No… Sarah?” Ice asked, looking to his wife, as she glanced over to the couple.

“I think he likes her” Sarah said, smiling, as she watched you blush over something Beau said. They watched as he grinned wider, a twinkle in both of their eyes.

“Maverick is going to hate this” Warlock stated.

“Maverick hasn’t spoken to his daughter in 10 years. I don’t think he has any room to comment” Sarah stated conclusively, looking to Ice with a knowing glance. He nodded, looking at you.

“She deserves happiness” Ice said, and everyone nodded in agreement.

“Y/N, Cyclone, it’s so good to see you. Tommy! Oh he’s so adorable” Sarah Kazansky - Y/N’s “mother" said, looking at the couple and child. Y/N smiled softly, not a bright smile considering the circumstances, but Sarah looked genuinely happy to see the child.

“Do you want to hold him, grandma?” You asked, causing the woman to smile wider. 

“Oh I would love too” Sarah said, picking up Tommy from your arms and cradling him. Tommy looked up at her with wide eyes, and Sarah looked back at the couple who also seemed enamored with their newborn. 

“Where should I put Y/N’s pie?” Beau asked, as he put aside the bags and stroller in the hall closet.

“I made some other meals so you won’t have to cook as well” Y/N said.

“Oh just in the kitchen. Thank you both” Sarah said, warmly, before looking back down at her ‘grandchild’. Beau gave Y/N a forehead kiss, before heading to put the food in the kitchen fridge.

“Y/N! And little Tommy!” Warlock said, bringing you into a hug before turning his attention to Tommy in Sarah’s arms. He was getting a bit fidgety so you held out your arms to take him back, and Sarah passed him into yours. 

“I can’t believe you just gave birth. You look beautiful” Sarah said, and you smiled.

“I can’t believe Cyclone let you two out of the house. I was certain he’d make you keep recovering” Warlock teased as you chuckled, rocking Tommy back and forth which seemed to calm him.

“Well it’s a celebration for his namesake after all” You smiled sadly, as you watched Warlock reach out to Tommy, who held onto his hand.

“He’s got a strong grip. If he didn’t have your eyes, I would say he was a mini Cyclone” Warlock said, as everyone chuckled.

“Sarah, my condolences” Pete Mitchell said, walking over to the woman and giving her a hug. 

Warlock and you shared a glance, as you tensed. You diverted your gaze down to Tommy. 

“Let’s go find your father” You whispered, and Warlock nodded, patting your arm before you left to find Beau. He was talking to two men, who looked a bit younger than yourself, in their naval uniforms.

As you walked over, the blonde caught your eye and smiled at you, before Beau saw the lieutenant’s attention was somewhere else, and followed his gaze. He smiled, which seemed to surprise the men, before reaching his arm out to put around your waist and lead you into his side.

“Hey sweetheart, I was just about to come back to you. This is Lieutenants Jake Seresin and Javy Machado. Lieutenants, this is my wife Y/N and our son Tommy” Beaut introduced, as the men smiled and nodded.

“I’d shake your hand but this boy has my hands full. It’s nice to put faces with names, Hangman and Coyote, right?” You said, and they all chuckled.

“Congratulations! How old is he?” Coyote asked.

“Not even two weeks” You said with a smile.

“Are you in the Navy too?” Jake asked, before another woman and two other lieutenants came to join the group.

“No, but most of my kindergarten students have naval officers for parents because the school is so close, so I like to say I’m ‘Naval affiliated’” You said, and the group chuckled.

“You’re also an admiral’s wife, remember?” Beau teased, and you laughed, as the group chuckled, although it seemed slightly awkward, in surprise that your husband was capable of teasing. You were used to it at this point.

“Lieutenants, this is my wife Y/N and son Tommy. Y/N, this is Lieutenants Natasha Trace, Robert Floyd and Bradley Bradshaw” He said, giving you a look as you tensed, looking at Bradley.

“He’s talked about this group all week, so let me guess - Phoenix, Bob and Rooster. It’s a pleasure to meet you all” You said, your smile a bit more forced than usual as you felt the stare of Bradley on you, although you couldn’t meet his eyes.

“He’s so cute! How old is he?” Natasha asked, cooing over Tommy. You focused on Tommy and Natasha.

“Two weeks” Beau said, with a smile, gazing lovingly to his wife. 

“Wow, I can’t believe you’re here. Was it easy?” Natasha asked.

“Stubborn boy gave me twenty two hours of labor” You said.

“If it was up to me, you’d be resting at home” Cyclone said, rubbing your shoulder.

“Yea, well I think I have some veto power since I delivered him, and Tommy was named after Ice” You said, as Beau rolled his eyes but with a smile on his face. 

The lieutenants watched both of you interact with curiosity. Cyclone was acting so strangely compared to normal, but seeing the two of you together, it made sense.

“There they are, Warlock, with Cyclone. Is that a smile I see on his face?” Maverick said, and you tensed. The smiles instantly dropping from both of your faces, you looked to Beau. You hadn’t actually looked at him yet, and now that he was so close, you didn’t know how to escape. 

“Maverick” Cyclone acknowledged, and the lieutenants were almost confused as to why the energy changed so drastically. You looked up and coincidentally made eye contact with Bradley, who seemed to put the pieces together, before you looked down at Tommy, rocking him to calm your own nerves. You looked at Warlock who looked guilty. 

“Cyclone, was that a smile I saw before? I didn’t know you could do that. Is this your wife? I didn’t even know you got married, let alone had a kid. How old is he?” Maverick said, leaning closer, before you stepped away, looking straight at him. Your father.

As soon as you two locked eyes, Maverick’s eyes widened. 

“Yes, this is my wife Y/N, and our son Tommy, named after Ice. He’s two weeks old” Beau said, holding onto you. You broke your eye contact with Maverick, looking back at Beau and Tommy. 

“Y/N?” Maverick asked, and you sighed.

“Yes?” You asked, annoyed.

“Could we speak, outside?” He said, and looked back up at him. His face was tense, his eyes blazing with hurt and anger. You looked to Beau, and he nodded.

“It was nice to meet you all. We’ll be right back” You said, smiling at the lieutenants, before leading Maverick and Cyclone outside.

Inside, the dagger squad watched as Cyclone, Maverick and you all walked away from the house to have your discussion.

“So, ex-lover? Maverick seems to get around” Hangman said, theorizing with a smirk on his face.

“No, no. That’s Maverick’s daughter” Rooster explained, as the group looked to him and then the group in shock.

“Holy shit” Bob said.

“That doesn’t look like a happy reunion” Phoenix stated.

“That’s because it isn’t” Warlock stated ominously, as they all watched, eager for gossip. 

“You got married and didn’t even invite your father?” Maverick yelled as softly as he could, once you three were far enough away from the house outside, his face red with annoyance. You sighed, rocking Tommy in your arms, kissing his face to keep him from crying. 

You could only roll your eyes, but saw Beau’s jaw clench, ready to defend you with harsh words. The veins in his neck were throbbing, and you could see this ending badly. 

“No, Beau. I got this” You said, in a soft tone, placing a hand on Beau’s chest, staring up at your husband with a smile, watching him look down at you before kissing your forehead. 

You stared at him for a moment longer before removing your hand, looking over to Maverick, your gaze shifting from warm to a frosty chill. It felt like the space around you could be an icebox.

“Do you even know what I do for a living?” You asked, your face becoming cold as you watched the emotions all over Maverick’s face. 

Everyone watched how calm you were, and shivered at the iciness in the air. If it was a cartoon, Maverick would be having smoke come out of his ears. Warlock had gotten the attention of Sarah, but held her back from going over to you. 

“Do you know where I went to college? Do you know where I lived before here?” You asked, raising an eyebrow, at his lack of answers. You could see the flashes of regret in his eyes, as his anger became one of remorse. 

“You know, everyone thinks you’re so admirable - keeping track of your best friend’s kid, making sure you’re there for him - at least in the background because Bradley doesn’t speak to you, right? Does he know you keep only his picture in your wallet? Go to his parent’s grave at least three times a year - one for the anniversary of Goose’s death, Goose’s birthday, and Bradley’s birthday, right? Now, can you tell me when my - your daughter’s, your actual child’s - is?” You asked, and you watched Maverick’s Adam’s Apple move, swallowing hard. 

The other lieutenants looked at Bradley, who just stared at you, eyes filled with sympathy. 

There was a long pause, and everyone was shifting eyes back and forth between you, Maverick and Rooster.

You rolled your eyes, already knowing the answer to your questions before you even began your reply. 

“I didn’t think so. You know, I didn’t purposefully keep you away. I told Ice that if you ever asked about me, he could tell you. But only if you asked him” You said, your bite on your words getting harsher, feeling the rise of emotions in you. Biting the inside of your cheek, you looked up to Beau, his eyes raging with anger.

“So to answer your question, there was always a wedding invite for you. Always. It’s in Ice’s desk. If you ever asked him or Sarah about me, he would have given it to you” You said, before turning away, feeling Beau’s hand on your back, and leaving. 

“Y/N! I’m your father. You can’t walk away from me!” Maverick shouted, causing you to stop and take a deep breath, before turning around.

“That didn’t stop you from turning your back on me. You aren’t my father, Ice is.” You said, feeling Beau’s arm tighten on you, before walking away with him.

“I love you” Beau stated, stopping the two of you when you finally got far enough away from the crowd of people. 

“I love you too” You replied, gazing up at him as he put his hand on your cheek, bringing his lips to yours.

[spinningwebsandtales]

Imagine A Buzzed Slider Flirting With You

Ron ‘Slider’ Kerner X Fem!Kazansky Reader

Rating: T+

Warnings: Mentions of drinking, slightly drunk Slider, Iceman is a protective older brother and it annoys reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Requested by @iceman-kazansky​

Taglist: @the-marshals-wife​

Part 2 here​​

(A/N:) Thank you so much for this fun request! I had a hard time figuring out how I wanted to start it but when I finally got that the rest was cake! I adore writing requests for this fandom cause they are always so fun and creative! And I love writing all these great characters! I hope this was everything you were hoping it would be! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

Life as the sister of Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky was hardly ever easy, especially when he had the tendency of being the protective older brother. Though it wasn’t all bad, when you found yourself in one of the most popular bars in Fightertown USA celebrating your brother’s achievement with all the other pilots of Top Gun. Though surrounded by handsome pilots, Ice had a strict policy of no dating Navy pilots, and he had drilled harshly into the heads of his fellow pilots and crewman that you were off the market to any and all forms of Navy men. You snorted at the thought taking another sip from your beer mug as Iceman conversed with you about the different maneuvers he had to perform during his most recent dogfight. Normally you would be interested in your brother’s exploits but tonight you wanted to have fun and enjoy the night talking with others (maybe have some potential relationships open up). Not be the untouchable sister of the elite pilot in the whole Navy that everyone was told to avoid and not touch.

“You okay,” Ice finally interrupted your moody thoughts as his eyes searched yours worriedly.

“Yeah fine,” you replied looking away and sipping more at your beer. “Just a long week Ice. I’m really tired.”

“You could have just told me you didn’t feel like going out tonight. I would have understood.”

“And miss the chance to celebrate my big bro’s achievement? Heck no!”

“It’s not that big of a deal,” he answered though his body language proved he thought otherwise than his spoken words. 

You snorted punching him in the shoulder, “Some of us have to make do being lowly nurses working long shifts.”

“What you do is really important,” Iceman cut you short never one to let you demean yourself or compare your line of work to his. “There’s no way that I’m not proud of you because you aren’t a Navy pilot like me. You’re job as a nurse helps more than I ever will.”

“Chill out there Ice,” you chuckled a little bitterly. “I know how you pilots like your ego stroked.”

Before Ice could retort several pilots came up to you two, slapping him on the back before pulling him away from you towards one of the pool tables sitting in the middle of the bar. He looked back towards you reluctantly before tapping another pilot sitting at a table on the shoulder. Ice spoke a few words and then he nodded before getting up and making his way towards you still standing at the bar. You rolled your eyes turning away, another babysitter to watch over you while your brother played pool. Just when you got rid of one killjoy, the first killjoy hires a second one. While waiting for this newest lookout made his way to the bar you begin to plot on how you could possibly escape this torture when you caught something out of the corner of your eye. One of the waitresses that had gone on break about thirty minutes ago was making her return and she was heading straight towards your incoming bogey. This guy Ice sent didn’t seem to be the brightest or most trustworthy and your intuition proved correct when he forgot completely about you and went straight to the poor waitress that just wanted to finish her shift. But sacrifices must be made for the greater good of your sanity. You made your escape while everyone was distracted. Which was just outside the bar because you did ride here with Ice. You didn’t mind sticking around though and enjoying the view outside with the beach right outside the door with a beautiful sunset coloring the scenery with different purples, pinks, and oranges.

Taking a seat on a salt crusted bench you enjoyed the sounds of waves crashing against the beach and a salty wind stirring your hair. The fresh air felt good on your flustered cheeks when the front door opened. You jumped afraid that you had been found when a different pilot you had never seen before stepped through the front door. You were afraid Ice sent him to find you but by the stumbling steps of this pilot and the buzzed look on his face he was just looking for a good place to cool off or puke his guts out. You turned away losing interest despite his handsome features. Yes your brother’s friends were all attractive in their own way this one was more your type. Close cropped dark sandy colored hair and a square jaw that could cut steel. He wore sunglasses so you couldn’t tell what color his eyes were, but you know you shouldn’t find out since Iceman would have a fit if he even knew that you were entertaining the thought that a pilot was one of the most absolute handsome creatures you had ever seen. You chuckled again causing this new guy’s attention to cut over to where you were sitting.

“Heeeyyy,” he slurred while waving at you. Even that small motion was causing him to stumble into the doorway of the bar. “Nev’r seen you ‘ere before.” He continued like he hadn’t been close to kissing the splintery wood of the doorframe.

“Yeah this is my first time being here,” you admitted thinking the conversation would end there. You jumped a little when he took a seat right beside you on the bench leaning right up against you.

“Y’here for th’ booze t’,” he continued to converse with you, barely as he was on the verge of being hammered, and you couldn’t decide if he had a death wish or just didn’t know that Iceman is your brother.

“Well I’m here with my brother to hang out so not necessarily here for the booze,” you answered scooting away just a little as his arm kept bumping into yours from his close proximity.

“Ooo luk’y me,” he smirked settling an arm on the back of the bench this time. 

Though he was being controlled mostly by the liquid courage you couldn’t bring yourself to fear this weird man for being so forward. It was a nice change of pace as everyone else had been avoiding you like the plague. Yes you had accepted to come for your brother’s sake and you were so very proud of him, but you wished that he would have a little more faith in you at picking out who you let woo you. Though you probably weren’t giving the best impression being basically cuddled by a drunken Navy man who had one too many drinks and was on the verge of making poor decisions. But he was fun to talk to and you found yourself losing track of time as you both conversed and he continued to flirt shamelessly at times, especially when you told him you were a nurse. It wasn’t until you heard a commotion inside did you realize you had completely forgotten about Iceman. The door to the bar burst open and a steaming mad Iceman.

“Slider,” the normally professional pilot roared making his way towards the man who had made himself comfortable right by your side. 

“Ice whaat ‘s your dealll,” Slider whined when the angry pilot lifted him up by the collar of his shirt. “Is she y’ girl?”

You made a gagging noise while glaring at your brother basically lifting your new friend up with nothing but rage fueling him.

“As if,” you scoffed wrenching Slider (who you now knew his callsign) from your fuming brother. “He’s my brother and he’s also a killjoy.”

“Killjoy,” Ice turned on you this time.

“You heard me,” you stepped forward sick of listening to him while he sucked the fun out of everything. You could understand his no pilot rule but despite Slider being on the verge of plastered he hadn’t done anything untoward towards you. “You invite me here to celebrate you and I agreed cause I wanted to be a good sister and have fun with my brother. But then when I get here you basically tell everyone I’m off limits and I can’t even begin to make conversation with anyone you’re friends with because they think that as soon as they do they’re going to be torn limb from limb. So excuse me if I talk to the one guy who was too stupid to know who I was.”

“Heeyyy,” Slider pouted his flush cheeks becoming redder.

“No offense,” you smiled, happy to know that despite seeing Iceman’s rage he continued to stick around.

Iceman sighed rubbing at his neck sheepishly. He could admit when he was out of line. Despite wanting what was best for you at all times, he could be overprotective and a jerk at times.

“I’m sorry,” he finally apologized before looking back to his back seater. “But really? My RIO?”

As soon as he asked you, you got a sly grin pulling at your full lips.

“So he’s not a pilot?”

“Technically,” Iceman paused seeing right where you were going with this. “Don’t you dare.”

“He’s not a pilot Iceman,” you stuck your tongue out at your brother grabbing Slider’s hand. “C’mon big boy I want to take a walk on the beach!”

Iceman stepped forward to follow before earning a finger in his face.

“Without my brother,” you snapped before leading the still buzzed Slider away. You didn’t think when you came to Fightertown USA that you would be walking hand in hand across the darkened beach with a Navy man by your side. Iceman wouldn’t like it but sometimes when it came to your happiness you just had to ignore your older brother and do what you felt was in your best interest. He meant well and wanted what’s best for you always but somehow you had a feeling that this man, who stumbled drunk into your life, was possibly going to be the best thing that ever happened to you.

[ohtobemare]

tom kazansky headcanons that nobody asked for

• His father is retired Navy, mom an Army nurse. 

• Navy v Army football is a hot topic of debate in the house. 

• Nicknames––Tommy, Ice, Iceman, Kazansky, Kaz (rarely).

• Kazansky’s an only son. Which equates to a massive amount of pressure. He carries the pride and weight of the family name on his shoulders, and it is the drive to be the best. 

• Daddy issues. 100%. Daddy wasn’t nearly there enough and lacked affection and connection with his only son. Tom craved his father’s approval, which leads to his tendency for perfection and OCD. 

• He will kill himself training. He has to be the best. It’s nearly religious. Everything from his service record to career objectives/goals, to his physique. If it isn’t perfect, he won’t rest until it is. 

• Born, 12/31/59. Raised in Hawaii. The big island is home. The only other place he’s lived in San Diego, but he'd like to retire to Alaska.

• Tom is loyal, nearly to a fault. Like a guard dog. 

• He can also be a vengeful SOB. Eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth leaves the world blind and toothless, but, at least it’s fair. 

• Deep sense of justice, and patriotism. He’ll die for his country and not think twice about it. 

• Family is everything. EVERYTHING. He will lay down his life for his family, blood and perceived. 

• Kazansky also wants a family.  Wife, a swathe of kids, the white-picket-fence, all-American dream. 

• Contrary to Slider and other pilots, Kazansky is a romantically grounded dude. He isn’t a man-whore. He seeks connection and is a genuine romantic. The occasional fling is necessary, sometimes, but mostly—he’s looking for the right girl. 

• When Tom falls, he falls hard. Read: loyal to a fault. 

• His sense of humor is dry, slightly cutting, but hilarious. He’s not a jokester at all, but his whit is what makes him shine. 

• He’s the guy you call when you need bail money, when your car is broken on the side of the road, but not the guy you call when you need to hide a body. 

• He asks questions. He calculates. He weighs every decision. Hell, he doesn’t make decisions without weighing the costs. But most of the time he's perceptive and dead-on, rarely is ever wrong.

• Appearance isn’t everything but it damn well plays a part. He’s more interested in the brain and the matters of the heart. 

• Values and morality is at the core of his must-haves when looking for relationships, romantic or platonic. 

• He’s a stellar cook. Like, the man can cook Thanksgiving like a gourmet chef. And he loves to cook. 

• Art. Art art art. That’s it. He has an in-home studio that is his grotto, next to the cockpit. Art is one of the very few things he calls irreplaceable in the world. 

• Religion is actionable—if the actions don’t match the sentiment, you’re doing it wrong. He aligns with the evangelical Christianity, but the practice is lacking.

• He will 100% call you on your bullshit and not blink and eye. 

• He’s unflappable. Very few things ruffle his feathers. 

• His favorite holiday is Thanksgiving, and then July 4. For reasons. Fleet Week is his pride and joy.

• Tom isn’t the cheating kind. One he’s found the one, it’s that one, forever and always, until death. 

• Insecurities are mostly hinged on performance—if I can’t provide for my family, what kind of man am I? If I’m not the best in the air, I’m not good enough at all, etc.

• He’s always worried about his girl and being the best for her, that she deserves better than him. 

• He’s a stoic and a cynic. But, that doesn’t mean he’s cold and unfeeling. Actually, Kazansky is hilarious and warm when he’s with the right people. Otherwise, he’s cold as ice, a brick wall at first sight. 

• Tom’s pretty empathetic, just not in the way you’d think. He wants you learn and grow, and may not always communicate it as gently as he should. 

• He won’t touch it if it isn't a 4x4 or straight American muscle-car. Oddly, though, he doesn’t do motorcycles. 

• Alaska is his favorite place on earth. He’s a master shot and loves the outdoors. If he could retire anywhere, Sitka would be it. 

• One hell of a horseman. 

• The housing market is his weakness. He’s always looking at property. Especially as his family grows, he will not be satisfied until he owns the biggest damn house on the cul de sac, if that’s what the wife wants. He doesn’t care where he lives, in or out of town–as long as there is room to grow. 

• Absolutely he will get whatever his wife wants. If that's pickles at 3AM for a pregnancy, he's on it. If that's a $85k Suburban they can't afford right now, he'll sell blood.

• He says what he means and means what he says. You’ll get no bullshit. If he says he’ll be there, he’ll be there. 

• He has high expectations for himself, and those he cares about. 

• Cunning is merely one way to describe Tom Kazansky. 

• Can't stand a liar or a simp.

• He’s a clean freak. 100% OCD about a clean house. But, his studio? Don’t touch anything, his mess is alphabetized. And as much as he loves a clean house, if it’s a mess from a busy day with kiddos, that’s kinda the best a house can be. 

• Treat others how you’d want to be treated. He’s a big proponent of the golden rule. 

• If he had it his way, dogs would be the only critters in the house. But 5 kids will bring anything and everything home, and that’s fine. 

• His best memories is first, his acceptance into the Navy; the first time he flew a plane (his father’s Cessna); the day he knew she was the one; his wedding; the birth of his first child (and every child thereafter). 

• His worst memory? Any of his mother’s deployments. Something about them just hit differently. Also the day he flunked his driver’s permit–his father’s disappointment was unparalleled. 

• Does your character wear glasses/contact lenses etc.? Yes. Tom does wear contacts later in life, and also wire-frame glasses when he’s in the studio. He lives in aviators––those damn blue eyes are sensitive!

• Tom’s always been a blonde, of some type or another. It changes depending on sun exposure. The Navy requires him keeping it short, but, in his youth he used to wear it longer–complete with gel, and feathering. He’d like to do that again. 

• Perfect posture. That chest is always out, front and center. 

• For clothes, he’s a comfort guy. Jeans and a t-shirt or button down, usually. Shorts when it’s a beach day. Not afraid of sandals, but, he’s actually more of a cowboy boots kinda guy.

• He won’t go anywhere without a tactical watch, aviators, his class ring, and his wedding band. 

• Tom isn’t a talker, usually, unless it’s with people he knows and loves and feels comfortable around. Listening is extremely important. When he does talk, he weighs his words carefully, and has a pretty cleaned up speech pattern. Slang isn’t his thing, but he will swear. 

• Penmanship is dependent on the day. He can write masterfully and with control, but most of the time it’s a mix of cursive and shorthand that only a handful of people on the planet can decode. 

• Sex is pretty vanilla. He’d much rather have interesting foreplay, because that’s where the magic happens. Can be a bit of a dom, but consent and trust is absolutely key. 

• Libido is insane, but, with five kiddos—finding the time can be rough. Quickies are key, and he’s mastered the art of getting his girl off while watching the clock. 

• Deployments are hard on the intimacy front, but he manages to keep it interesting. Phone calls are recorded, so he has to play nice—but, that doesn’t mean mail has to be nice. He gets nothing short of enjoyment when his girlie sends playful mail. Though he does have to keep it from Slider, most of the time. 

• Photos live in his cockpit, his breast pocket, his wallet, and his helmet. He also keeps at least one piece of artwork from every kid in his go-bag at all times. 

• The children have been deemed “Icicles”, thanks to Maverick. Icicles in the Kazansky Clan. 

edit: • Tom is a bookworm. He’s particularly drawn to classical literature and poetry—Huck Finn is his absolute favorite, and he has multiple editions. One of his prized possessions is a leather bound special edition Twain volume.

[cryptid-in-your-closet]

Someone tell me which WIP I should work on instead of studying for my finals

You Have the Wrong Guy - in which everyone is giving Jake the shovel talk when it was Bradley who broke off their first relationship - Exs to Lovers, ft. dagger squad and class of 86’

Unpacking - how each of the daggers (and Mav) find out about trans!Jake - not romance centered but has the development and destruction and ultimately getting back together of Hangster, Javy is the best friend ever and deserves all the love, this is very self indulgent

Running - Jake has ran his whole life. If no one can catch up to him no one can leave him. Then he meets Javy. The man seemingly has unlimited  patience and always seems to be a step ahead of Jake. - character study, Macheresin, Jake has an absent father and issuesTM

Ballett AU (unnamed) - In which Ice is a Ballet instructor and Mav takes care of Amelia for Penny when he’s not test piloting the military’s newest planes. - plenty of misunderstandings, Icemav endgame but mistaken Mav/Penny, Penny&Sarah friendship

Dinner for Three - when Beau gets an invite to the Mitchell-Kazansky household he figures it’s something to do with the dagger squad, after all the first (and only other time) he was invited over was to celebrate the success of the dagger mission, what he was not expecting was a fancy dinner cooked by the handsome couple that are blatantly flirting with him. This is some cosmic joke, right? - Cyclone/Maverick/Iceman, might end up being smut but won’t promise anything, ft. Cyclone having a massive crush on Ice and reluctant feelings (ew) for Mav, surprise they like him too, Bradley shows up in here for some reason

Dadmral - the obligatory fic in which the dagger squad finds out Mav is married to the COMPACFLT - Pov Phoenix which is different for me lol, some texting, dagger squad and class 86’, Icemav, Ice is alive, Rooster gets smothered by his uncles who have missed him

Coming Home - Rooster fixes his relationship with Mav while working on the Mustang and getting awful (and some good) relationship advice - Icemav, Hangster, Mavdad, Icepops

Goose Been Knew - in which Goose has to deal with idiot pilots who clearly love each other (twice), don’t worry he has a lovely wife and partner to go complain to. - Goose lives, Icemav, Hangster, Slooserole, really just short bits of Goose putting up with Mav and then Rooster

Guitar - Bradley owns a guitar for reasons completely unrelated to his ex who he’s definitely not still in love with. That would be crazy. They’ve been apart for years. - Hangster Exs to Lovers, bitter Hangman, Phoenix and Javy are DONE, the rest of the dagger squad are confused

A Series of Weddings - Tom and Pete get married for the first time in 91’ despite what the world tells them they can do, they talk about it in 2011, they get married legally in 2013 when Ice is diagnosed with Cancer, talk about redoing vows and throwing an actual celebration in 2015 (they don’t), redo their vows in the spring of 2021. In 2023 they attend the Bradley’s wedding. - this is honestly one of my favs, inspired by this post, Icemav, no relapse of cancer, lots of weddings, love, and fluff, Hangster at the end, class of 86’

[1c3m4n]

Tom “Iceman” Kazansky.

WARNINGS: sadness, death, Jeeps, pessimistic author, Ice being cute, mentions of Wham!

Iceman. He’s your big teddy bear of a best friend. He’s the one who’s been there for you since before Top Gun. And in your moment of need, he was there. He called to you.

Like the ‘You came.’ ‘You called.’ type relationship applies to the two of you. And you couldn’t possibly be more happy about it. It’s Tom, who’s gonna complain?

Until tonight. When you weren’t the one who initiated a call.

— —

You’re on a date with some Army guy. You’d met him at the O Bar, which is ironically a Navy dive bar. He had intrigued you, and you figured you’d give a shot.

That is until you hear your phone ringing in your pocket. And the ringtone ‘Cold as Ice’ by Foreigner no longer sounds so threatening.

Naturally you excuse yourself to take the call. When you answer, there is nothing but sobbing on the other end of the phone. Tom’s crying.

He never cries.

You immediately begin to worry. “Tom? What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

You hear more choked back sobbing as he tries to catch his breath. “M-My dad… he… he’s in the hospital. He got in some accident a few minutes ago. I’m his emergency call.”

“I’ll be there. Give me 5 minutes.”

“But… aren’t you on a date?”

“You’re more important than that Army dickhead. He’s not my type anyways. I’ll be there. Be ready.”

“I’m almost to the hospital.”

“Great. I’ll be there in 2 then.”

You rush back in to hand your date money. Then you rush to your car. You rush to the hospital. You see his Jeep CJ5 sitting in the parking lot. It needs a new paint job. Poor thing is only 6 years old and already needs new paint.

Regardless of his paint job. You slipped your heels off and ran into the hospital. Frantically looking for Iceman, you spot his frosted tips.

You rush to his side and he just pulls you into a hug. “Thank you for being here.” The only words he mumbles for a while. And they are mumbles right into your hair.

You simply wrap your arms around him comfortingly. He seems to almost melt to your skin as he feels your touch.

“Where else would I be, Tom?”

— —

About an hour passes. Waiting in the emergency room. Waiting for news of his father’s fate.

He hates his dad. Well… he thought he did. His dad was terrible. He neglected him and refused to give him any sort of fatherly love unless his son was perfect. And that’s why Iceman is well… Iceman.

(A/N: it’s about here that I started listening to Inertia by AJR)

The sentence you had said before… ‘Where else would I be, Tom?’ It really sat in his head for a while. He had never felt more loved and appreciated than that moment. With you in his arms.

Finally a nurse walks out. She asks for family of his father. Tom steps forwards. He says it’s him and you. She asks how you’re related.

Tom realizes that you’d have to be daughter-in-law or an actual daughter to go back and see him.

“She’s my wife. That’s the relation.”

You play along. It’s pretty easy to fake marry Tom. He makes love seem so easy. And every girlfriend he had seemed to break his heart so roughly each time. The only girl he seems to trust anymore is you.

And you were honored.

The nurse sighs and takes a deep breath. You know where the sigh was going.

“Mr and Mrs. Kazansky. I’m afraid to inform you that your father has passed. He lost too much blood in the accident and he didn’t even make it through the surgery.”

Tom’s world shatters.

He looks at you. And then he looks back at the nurse. He has tears that immediately start to fall. He wipes his tears and gently leads you to his Jeep.

He gets in the back seat of the car. And immediately he begins to break down.

“I never even got to know his last words… I never… never got to tell him that I loved him…”

You wrapped your arms around him. He just curls up. Which is surprising to see just how well a 6’0 very in shape pilot can fit in the backseat of a 1980 Jeep CJ5. But he manages.

He shoves his face against your neck, just breathing in your sweet smell of Cherry Coke and the mint from your gum. Or maybe it’s the mint from his gum?

“Thomas. He knew you loved him. And you don’t have to worry about letting him down. Because I’m sure he died happy knowing you tried your damndest.”

You gently put your thumb under his chin. Tilting his face up so you can see, you offer him a kind smile.

“I’m proud of you, Commander Kazansky.”

You press a kiss to his forehead and he almost just melts. Then it hits you.

This is what love feels like. Right? The giddy feeling you get when you’re so close to someone and their presence alone can bring a smile to your face?

That’s love? Right. That’s love. No more questioning it. You’re in love with Tom.

But pick a better night to say something. Please, dear Y/N. Pick a diff-

“I love you, Tom.”

You mf.

“I love you too, Y/N.”

(A/N: another music swap happens here. To Brazil by Declan McKenna)

— —

Sometime within the next hour, he falls asleep in the backseat of the Jeep. So you have to find his keys in his pockets. Which is sort of uncomfortable to do.

But you rummage around his jacket pockets for a second to no avail. So you reach for his front pocket and he brushes your hand away.

He holds up his keys.

“Front left pocket, Sweetheart.”

You just smile and shake your head. You take the keys from him. Well, you try. He ends up stretching and getting in the front seat.

“You need to drive your car home, Y/N. I can drive myself.”

“I’m coming home with you, Tommy. As if I’m letting you drive on your own.”

He just smiles and nods. He puts the keys in the ignition and lets the engine turn over and the engine finally starts up.

You yawn, leaning your head against the window. It’s gonna be a long drive. And you know he’s gonna head back to his housing on the base. He hates actually going home.

Too many bad memories reside there.

So you sleep the entire hour drive. And when you wake up, you’re in Ice’s bed. And he’s in the shower.

And you hear music. You can’t quite make out the words, so you try to listen to the melody.

The song? “I’m Your Man” by Wham!

[dragon-kazansky]

Rachael's fic recommendations!

Top Gun!

Here is a list of one shots I've very much enjoyed from lots of talented people. Don't be surprised if some of you show up more than once 😉

♡♡♡

Iceman

Safe in my arms - @youlightmeupfinn

Nightmares are no fun. When you are distraught by one on a chilly night, Iceman is right there, wrapping his arms around you, protecting you from whatever is giving you anxiety.

Do you have to go? - @callsignthirsty

Ice has to be deployed and the reader is upset and he comforts her

Ice plays it right - @redmenacehorned

Ice and you are enjoying your alone time at home when suddenly Tom asks you what you love about him and it ends up with you on his lap telling him that you kinda have a thing for his teeth.

The engineer - @topgun-imagines

You're just the engineer, a man like Tom Kazansky should have no reason to pay attention to you. Or at least that's what you thought.

Guitar player - @topgun-imagines

Ice comes home one day to find his girlfriend playing guitar. Something that he didn’t know.

Expectation - @make-me-imagine

Y/n, pressured to do better by their over-demanding father, overworks themselves, something Tom will not allow to continue.

Dash - @topguncortez

Tom is overly protective of the reader because she’s the only girl in topgun, and is his wingman, slider's, baby sister though she’s a grown women and he knows her almost better then anyone, she is so overly sweet but also has enough sass that the guys respected her.

That's my sister - @topgun-imagines

Once you finally have a moment alone with your boyfriend, your brother just can’t help but interrupt.

The future awaits - @make-me-imagine

You and Iceman meet at a bar and hit it off. Once you suddenly leave, Iceman is afraid he will never see you again, but, you know something he doesn't.

Don't fall in love - @topguncortez

He wasn't supposed to fall in love with the one person he can't have.

Need for sleep - @youlightmeupfinn

After a hard day, you find yourself unable to fall asleep, but Iceman always knows the trick.

Promise? - @topgun-imagines

You hear something that you're not supposed to. Ice tries to explain himself. But is he too late?

Hangman

Take me to bed - @siempre-bucky

You swore off sleeping with Navy men, not wanting to be the subject of their locker room talk. Harvard opens his mouth about you and Jake's ready to take him to an early grave.

Tomorrow never comes - @purplevortexx

Jake wasn't expecting anyone to show up for him, but you owe him for all the times he's been there for you throughout your life.

Touch and go - @seresinhangmanjake

You and Jake had been sleeping together for months, and as sure as you were of your feelings for him, you were unsure of his for you. He, however, certainly knew how he felt about you, and after you decide to go on a long trip without telling him, he lets you know just exactly what’s on his mind.

And the truth of the matter is - @fidogo

Jake Seresin hates you. Or is given no choice but to hate you after you decide to hate him first. Which sucks, because he dreams of dating you, marrying you, fucking you, the whole nine yards.

Don't touch my wife - @sebastianstangirl01

While helping Penny at the bar a customer doesn’t know how to take No as a answer, but Hangman teaches him his lesson.

It's not me, it's you - @phoenixsbby

Your ex is back in town and that might be the kick in the ass Hangman needs to change the parameters of your situationship.

This isn't what it looks like - @phoenixsbby

Hangman is totally, 100% over his ex … he just needs a fake girlfriend to prove it.

I would walk 10,00 miles to you - @rolycolysficrecs

The first thing you notice about Jake "Hangman" Seresin when he rings your doorbell at 1:30 in the morning is that no matter the time of day, he is devastatingly handsome. The second thing you notice is that he is absolutely smashed drunk. You know your hands will be full dealing with your brother's friend tonight. Well, you suppose he might be your friend too.

I'm so in love with you - @youlightmeupfinn

Rooster tried to tell Hangman that he was undeniably in love with you. After a game of football on the beach, Jake realizes that Rooster is in fact correct. He is so in love with you, that he can barely see straight.

Try losing one - @topgun-imagines

After a big fight, Hangman takes a drive to clear his mind. A song that comes on the radio fits perfectly. 

Home to me - @make-me-imagine

'People keep assuming you are a couple, this causes one of you to finally confess their feelings.' + "All I've ever wanted was a place to belong. Somewhere I could call home. And you gave me that. Because you are my home."

Dime store cowboy - @seasonsbloom

Jake teaches you about the cowboy hat rule.

Maverick

Be my angel - @mitchellpete

Maverick is drunk and in love with you. You’re the only person Goose trusts to care for him. Mav just wants to finally be close to you.

Pictures - @mitchellpete

You reflect on the way you and Maverick care for each other as he tends to your injury.

She's taken, lieutenant - @youlightmeupfinn

When you arrive in San Diego with Maverick, Jake immediately begins to fancy you. Little does he know though, you're engaged to Captain Mitchell, and Rooster knows it.

Don't hit me - @minmimi2

You and mav are out on a casual night at the bar, and while you consider acting on your feelings, the presence of a creepy random man interferes and throws you off, so maverick comes with a plan to scare him away you couldn't resist.

There are rules- @tongue-like-a-razor

Your risky flying seriously pisses off your instructor at Top Gun and you're about to find out why.

He's gained that lovin' feeling - @youlightmeupfinn

A night at The Hard Deck proves to be too much for you. When Maverick finds you fast asleep on one of the couches in the back, he's struck with a feeling that he hadn't felt in a long time. Love.

There's gotta be a way - @mitchellpete

Maverick is tired of Iceman’s assumptions. He assures you your brother is wrong about him.

Perspective - @make-me-imagine

Prompt: 'Person A is in love with Person B. B is also in love with A. But somehow, they are both convinced that the other is in love with Person C, who is completely oblivious to all of it.' (specifically requested for the first movie Maverick)

Darling - @youlightmeupfinn

Desperately wanting to find the perfect pet name to call Maverick since the pilot's already claimed three names for you, you finally discover that "Darling" is his name.

You're beautiful - @topgun-imagines

Maverick is there to pick you up when you become insecure about how you look.

One final night - @minmimi2

On what you think might be your final night alive before the mission, you can't help but to say all there is in your heart, especially if it meant confessing your feelings for maverick.

I loved them, Goose - @ohthatstragic

It is the reader instead of goose dying

Goose

Heat waves, inflatable pools, you - @duchesstypewriter

When the San Diego summer becomes too unbearable, Goose has the perfect idea to cool off his wife.

Gold rush - @duchesstypewriter

All the years of silent pining and anticipation between you and Goose are put to test when he realizes that if he doesn't make his move, he's going to lose you— and maybe Maverick and Bradley help a little.

[redhead-writes]

Top Gun Class ‘86 Ice Hockey AU headcanons

Thought about joining my love for ice hockey with Top Gun Class ‘86. Let’s see how it goes.

They are new team in California Fightertowns “Tornadoes”  but they already has made some fame around the league in which they are playing. They are playing gritty but mostly clean game. Except when the pressure on ice got raised too high and it needs to be let down by fight.

The team and coaching stuff thought it is the end of theirs when their main star center Bill ‘Cougar’ Cortell left for team that could pay better. It happened just few days before the season had to start. It really came as lightning in clear day. Now when team plays Cougars team, he gets pushed in boards hard.

Metcalf is teams coach and runs them to the ground in each training with help of his assistant coach Jester. They both know this guys are meant for greatness. Maybe they could get picked up by NHL without draft. Only one player is still elligable for the draft. Merlin is the teams physio. He can play left or right back when he has to but injury and betrayal of his partner made him lose love for the game but not enough to leave the sport fully.

Most of the players have day time jobs because playing in this league does not pay well or at all. Mostly money goes into bus and other travel expanses they have.

Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky is goddamn amazing goalie. Sometimes Viper and Jester doesn’t know how he stops those pucks that seem unstoppable. He has his weird quirks. Chewing gum at all the times. Team teases him that it will make his jaw as muscled as rest of him. He likes to be left alone before the game so he can do his flexibility stretches to be warm for the game. Everyone is so used to it that they don’t question it. Tom also always bangs the net bars before each period, saying that we are in this together. Also he has specific meal he will eat after his team wins a game and different one if they lose. Team may tease him for all his quirks, but good God you touch Iceman and whole team will run you to the ground. Also team always gives pass to Tom if there is empty net. They want him to have goalie goal.

Next up we have two defender pairs. Nick ‘Goose’ Bradshaw and Ron ‘Slider’ Kerner who with only their height already looks intimidating. But Ron takes that extra step to be more. He is not afraid to smash opposing players in boards or do some little shitty moves to stop attack. He takes protecting Tom as some kind of oath for life. Yes, he is first one to go after player who tries to hurt Iceman. He got his nickname because for his height and physical look he glides on ice so light and fast. His defense partner Bradshaw is more friendly but he also knows how to do his job well, better than well. He is really protective about his teammates always checking on them. Tom called him Mother Goose and then the rest of team picked it up. He wears that nickname with pride. His wife Carole got him a patch with honking goose that has nickname under it. He sew it to his gear bag. Nick has taken oath to protect their tiniest player in the team. Rick has to help with that a lot because tiny kid seems to have death wish.

The second defender pair is Charles ‘Chipper’ Piper and Marcus ‘Sundown’ Williams. You would think that they would be less violent than first pair because they look somehow calmer and are not towering over you. But there is reason why Marcus nickname is Sundown. You talk bullshit that is over the line to his teammates or him, then hope you will be on ice for next game. Everyone from previous his previous had called Marcus violent and no good for the team, calling him liability for the team with his fighting tendencies. Viper took one look at Marcus and knew this man has nothing but his team above all else. So he paired him with Charles who needed someone to keep up with him and his running mouth. Like nickname Chipper comes from him chirping opponent players each time they come close. Also he always has an answer to even vilest chirps. That keeps Marcus out of the trouble usually. Also since Marcus attention has been taken off fighting and put in right frame, he is one of the best scoring defenders. He can rival some other team forwards.

Next up we have right back Leonard ‘Wolfman’ Wolfe who is real pest on ice but he knows when to let go of pissing opposing player off. He uses it all to distract the opponent team defenders and allow their center to score some goals. He got his nickname because of two things: 1. Leonard sometimes can act as lone wolf when he has a puck and sees opportunity in front of him. He simply skates trough the other team players like knife trough butter, making his own team players try and keep up. 2. Sometimes he will need whole team to join his crazy tactics because he seem to be able to calculate some moves that even Viper and Jester can’t. Usually crazy tactics work out so Viper trusts those.

Left back and tiniest rat of the Tornadoes Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell. If Leonard knows when to stop than Pete does not have any regard for his own safety at all. He sometimes will take on players two even three times his size. Pete sometimes is pain in his own teams arse because they have to take unnecessary penalties just to save him from being trampled over. Still somehow with being rattiest rat to rat, he does what he needs to do. Always open for his teammates pass or ready to pass puck, and his passes always reach who ever they are meant for. He is only one elligable for the NHL draft. Pete doesn’t believe he will be chosen for it but Viper and Jester, to be honest, rest of Tornadoes have other ideas. Maverick may be rough around the edges because of his past but this team gives him what he had missed before in the life.

Now their main center is Rick ‘Hollywood’ Neven. He is annoying in his own way. His annoying way is doing everything flawlessly with Hollywood level smile on his face. Rick wasn’t able to shine because Cougar took whole spotlight. Finally given full chance with two of grittiest team players on his wings, he really can’t stop scoring. Many opposing players have tried to punch Rick in the face to wipe that smile of his face. Mostly everyone failed but one dude succeeded, but all Hollywood said was: “I still look prettier than you even with blood on my face.”

Their team is getting traction so Carole and her friends start making merchandise for the team. It also has cool designs that Tom had drawn while doodling. Carole saw those doodles and pressed him to make full on drawings. It is another thing that calms Iceman down after adrenaline filled game. By selling merch, the teams financial level also had raised up, making it easier for them to travel and buy new equipment when needed.

[compacflt]

okay so something I love in what you've written is the running thematic element of how the "lack" of a character is treated as its own entity/character, not only with Goose--how he’s the “center of the universe” as you say--but also with Sarah. Idk if I just focused hard on Ice’s childhood/adolescence the entire time reading because I’m obsessed with how you wrote him, but the way there were bits and pieces thrown in about her as the story unfolded (Tom's pot-smoking era, the way they grew up so different but had a similar childhood, the unreturned letters and phone calls--also, Ice seeing Chorus Line on Broadway alone was so silly I loved it. Iceman Kazansky: pilot by day, musical theater fan by night. why was he so interested in fucking Chorus Line of all musicals.) but she never actually made an in-the-flesh appearance makes the entire fic, and Ice’s characterization, so dynamic and moving. Like Ice didn’t grow up as a sad little kid with no siblings and some evil overbearing Admiral father that turned him into a Navy-regulated cog in the machine; he had a sister (and grandmother?? A hipster Woodstock grandma?) who loved or at least cared for him a long long time ago, and her presence left a very visible mark (both emotionally and career-wise) on him no matter how “ice cold” he made himself. And in the very very beginning of WWGATTAI, he and Mav were bro-talking about their families and Ice was all like “grr I might as well not have a sister” because he’s secretly Popeye he was grouchy and young and Sarah had stopped talking to him, but then 9/11 happened and he kept trying to get in touch with her just to make sure she’s okay, and then they finally get to talk at the end of Debriefing and it's like...he's reached the top and he's become the person he's always wanted to become, but he's still the exact same. He wants his sister. He's “The Iceman" and can probably run the Navy on his own, but he’s also just someone’s little brother that used to smoke pot with all the other California hippies. He misses her but he can't talk about it.

Also, you didn't just shoehorn her into the story as a character that would be the Tom Kazansky Version of Carole-and-Goose (or as Ice's wife LMAO) and I loved how you gave her personal depth and a purpose/life outside the story while still adding to Ice's characterization through giving him another person to (a) care too much about and (b) shove into his closet of skeletons because the relationship he has with them is breaking some sort of federal regulation. I hope this all makes sense hahaha, but anyway I loved Sarah and how you treated her. It was so entertaining/heartbreaking to watch Ice wrestle with how the main three people he loves are his communist sister, a male romantic partner who is also a subordinate he bails out of sticky situations constantly, and the son of the man he was involved in the death of. crazy stuff.

ok this is so funny & I love this so much because… it wasn't really how I was thinking about it at the time & I'm so glad it comes across as much warmer than how I originally wrote it... okay like i could explain everything but muh “death of the author”…… eh fuck it okay. I’ll put it under a cut so you can choose not to watch me auto-fellate. another long post, sorry. 

so, on Sarah. 

I should start this post by saying straight off the bat that she’s literally just a self-insert for me, the author, as a leftist who lives in New York and would not give someone like Tom the time of day, so I could feel better morally/ethically about writing Top Gun fanfiction. So, there’s that. But she (just like everyone else in this fic) is just a tool to get across information about Ice and the story as a whole, and there’s a reason she was introduced in chapter one (two if you’re reading on AO3 i guess. no prologue, wtf is up with that AO3 you guys need to fix that). I wanted to convey a shitload of information at the start, especially because I was posting semi-weekly and wanted people to know what they were getting into because it’s a slow burn.

To summarize what happens in chapter one:

Goose is dead. 

Ice and Maverick kill some MiGskyites in addition to killing Goose and it cements some weird fucked-up hyperinterdependent relationship between them. 

No, this does not make them instantly friends. They are still fundamentally different people who dislike each other’s outlook on life.

Ice kills some more Soviets and becomes Maverick’s equal, though still not in rank/honor. 

Ice writes to his sister Sarah, who doesn’t answer. 

Ice hooks up with a girl, but finds that he can’t relate to her as much as he did before the experience of TOPGUN. Also, he can’t relate to women at all.

Ice tries to visit Sarah, and is rejected.

Ice sees A Chorus Line on Broadway by himself.

Ice and Maverick talk to each other as semi-equals, and Ice explains that his sister is a Commie who will never talk to him again. He also explains that he wants to get to the top because he thinks it will make him a good man, or that he can make the Navy better because he himself is a good man. Maverick says, yeah right bozo.

So we’re 5,000 words into a 90,000-word fic and already you know the following:

This entire story and everyone in it revolves around Goose’s death and who gets the blame for Goose’s death. 

Ice and Mav are brought together not because they like each other, but because the experience of killing both their friend and their enemies has made it impossible for anyone else on Earth to understand them to that same extent. From the first word, they're already both so fucked-up it really is each other or nobody.

This is gonna be a sloooow burn.

Ice and Mav might end up as superior and subordinate, but they are fundamentally equal ("you can be my wingman anytime/bullshit you can be mine"), and start out as equals. They are now directly responsible for the same amount of death.

Sarah is Ice’s sister, so Ice is definitely not getting married to a woman in this fic. Good news for everyone scared by the slow burn.

Ice had previously had fun with women, and still wants to marry a woman because it "follows all the rules," but after meeting Maverick/the whole TOPGUN experience he finds them annoying/unrelatable. He can’t relate to women at all and doesn't believe this woman when she tells him she loves him because he himself has never been in love with a woman. He is gay.

Ice sees A Chorus Line on Broadway by himself. He is gay. 

Sarah will not be in this fic, and Ice is a categorically lonely man who is isolated from anyone who could possibly help him talk about how he feels. 

Sarah is a Communist who rejected her military brother, not the other way around, so this is a leftist fic from a leftist perspective, but about conservative men whose conservative personal and political opinions will be repeatedly challenged by the end. This is not a pro-Navy story. 

As a corollary to that, the ship for Ice to “be a good man” has already sailed. He’s gonna try his best to be a good man—emphasis on man—throughout the story, but he’s already failed from the very first line. 

And Ice steadfastly and stubbornly refuses to be honest with us or himself about how he feels about any of the above.

So you basically have everything you need to understand the rest of the story. Now you (reader) and I (author) can meet each other in the middle on equal terms, and the real story can actually finally get started in the next chapter. It’s a lot of information. Which is why it’s not written very well and the pacing is fucked. 

But yeah I just used “Sarah” as an expository tool to help first-time readers understand the political lens of this fic from the get-go, so we don’t have to have a lot of hand-wringing when Ice becomes a war hero of the Persian Gulf War or anything like that (though in my a/n for chapter 5 i did admittedly do some hand-wringing. i gotta delete those a/ns). So, Sarah becomes kind of a weak stand-in for Ice’s political guilt. She’s only mentioned four times besides chapter one, i think—once when Ice is with “Laura” (he is still incredibly guilty about all the people he killed & feels like he let “Sarah” down); once with 9/11 (he still thinks about “Sarah” often enough that she’s the first thing he thinks of when the country has been attacked [still haven't decided if this is the real Sarah though]); once when he’s getting high with Maverick (he is constantly reminded by the brass of the ways in which he is not a good man); and once at the end of “Debriefing,” where they actually get to talk to each other—because he has finally “snapped out of it” and left the Navy.

This fic wasn’t meant to be my sorta-kinda-but-not-really-anti-military soapbox preaching, though, which is why Sarah’s hardly in it at all. It’s a D-plot. Maybe even an E-plot. All in service of the Icemav A-plot. That end scene has a couple different purposes, actually. The second is that Sarah, who at this point is pretty much just a stranger, becomes a receptacle for Ice to prove that he can finally be honest with himself and others about his relationship with Maverick. And…that’s pretty much it. I did do more with her in my Slider one-shot but i honestly dk if that’s getting posted at this point (ITS ROUGH) so im not gonna talk about it now. 

But—that was all Sarah as a symbol, which is very un-fun. Sarah as a character is kind of a blank slate, but how Ice thinks about her/misses her is not, as you said :) I’m wary of posting headcanons that are dependent on my fic, though I do have many, because I feel like that’s not really the point of headcanons… “compacflt!Ice-specific headcanons…” idk that seems a little self-aggrandizing even for me. But, yeah, I guess I would characterize my Ice’s childhood as not greeeaaat, because his dad apparently died in Vietnam when he was like eight and his mom apparently died in a car crash when he was twelve (which is why he’s such a good driver [ch 8 notwithstanding DO NOT DRIVE 120 ON I-5]), but also not, like, abusive or anything. Raised by his grandmother (in the Slider one-shot, which I might as well spoil for you since I’m feeling quite hopeless about it, Slider kinda helps Ice deal with her death in the second year they’re at the Academy together, and it’s how their friendship really starts) who might have been hippy-ish and encouraged him breaking the rules, but also he & his sister were very very impacted by the death of their father at war. This is getting kind of deep into it, and I’m just kinda making it up, but I think there was probably a lot of strife between him and Sarah when he was gearing up to go to the Academy/getting his recommendations etc., like actual arguments and screaming matches—yes, she’s disappointed in him, but more than anything she wants to keep him safe so he doesn’t die like their dad (relevant for ice/rooster later)—and he ended up losing her, so it made a deep, deep impression on how he handles (avoids) confrontation about serious stuff like this when he knows he's gonna lose… my ice has a confrontation issue, obviously. but so does canon. see him "apologizing" to maverick for goose's death in the movie for another example of this. bro is struggling.

But thats just me makin shit up so whatever.

But that’s me just makin shit up so whatever.

[callmemana]

To Have & To Hold

I saw this post and I immediately had a thought of a lil story! I know that in the tags it originally said ‘icemav’ but whenever I see ‘Slider’ or ‘Iceman’ I think of these amazing women! I hope you enjoy!

Ron ‘Slider’ Kerner x Jade ‘Whiskey’ Rogers (OC) @mrsjaderogers

Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky x Rachael ‘Dragon’ Kazansky (OC) @dragon-kazansky

It was a beautiful wedding, Dragon really out did herself for this celebration. The colors complemented each other and showed so much of both the couple’s personality. As the best friends of the bride and groom, Whiskey & Slider were in the wedding party.

Whiskey wore a purple bridesmaid dress, tight to the skin in all the right places and a slit starting at her right hip, hair up on her head and cascades down her back like a waterfall, curls delicately touching her shoulders.

Slider wore a black tux with a white undershirt, a boutonnière with a purple rose accompanied with small white flowers attached to his jacket on his left breast, black dress shoes shining in the sun on this wonderful San Diego day. He wouldn’t be Slider nor would Ice be himself without their aviator sunglasses.

As Whiskey helped Dragon get ready for her big day, the two women took shots and danced around to loud music. Laughter could be heard from the back room and the guests wondered what was the cause of it.

“You know, today might be a lucky day for Slider and you too,” giggled Dragon as she downed another shot. “Not possible! We wouldn’t do anything to take the spot light from you and Ice today! You guys deserve it for once, it can’t always be you and me gaining the attention from everyone all the time!”

Dragon rolled her eyes, “It’s always gonna be us babe, you and me against the world!” “True. They can try to break up the Chaos Crew, but it won’t work.” Whiskey said as she hugs Dragon. “Very, very true. Nothing can stop us.”

As they finished Dragon’s hair and makeup, they had one more hug before exiting the room and making their way to the doors to the alter. “This will be the last moments of you being Rachael Hunter.” Dragon wore a beautiful off the shoulder lace dress, tight in the bust, but flowed beautifully to the floor.

Her hair was curled and half up half down, with purple and white flowers braided loosely in between the three parts. Her makeup was just enough to highlight her natural beauty and show off her eyes.

“I know, I’m excited and nervous at the same time! But I’m mostly buzzed!” Whiskey huffed a laugh out at that. “You have no reason to be, you and Ice were meant to be together! I could tell the first day you met, you were each other’s forevers.”

“Jade, don’t make me cry! I’ll ruin all of our hard work!” “Oh please, you barely needed any makeup! You’re beautiful Rach! Now, dry those eyes, and get ready to face your husband!”

As soon as the doors opened and Tom saw Rachael, tears trailed down his face at her. She took the breath away from his lungs, she was perfect, inside and out. He couldn’t wait to finally call her his wife, Mrs. Rachael ‘Dragon’ Kazansky.

He knew by the smirks his friends were throwing his way, they would give him shit for crying later, but he didn’t care. Not with her in his eye-line. He felt someone knock his shoulders softly and looked over to see Slider, smiling at him, almost giddily.

The ceremony was filled with laughter as Hollywood and Wolfman threw the flowers as the ‘flower girls,’ and made it a show, and tears at the beautiful and deep words that the couple used to describe their love for each other. No one had any doubt that these two individuals would be together til death do them part.

At the reception, the wedding party made a grand entrance, as they do. It wouldn’t be a party without them causing trouble. Speeches were said, stories told, and cake smashed into each other’s faces, Rachael and Tom couldn’t have asked for a better day. As the sun began to set and the guests wind down with food and alcohol in their bellies, it was time for the Bride to throw the bouquet. Ladies from all around the room ran to the dance floor and hugged each other and jumped as they screamed excitedly.

Whiskey got up and jokingly nudged Ron too, as the couple made their way to the grouping, Whiskey and Slider stopped in the middle. Ron lightly pushes Jade as Dragon counted to three before granny tossing the bundle of flowers over her head with a smile.

The flowers went over the first row of ladies, before making it to the place were the couple were standing at. Whiskey made to jump, before realizing her currently footwear and decided not to. Ron had his arms out and hands opened to humor Whiskey as she watched him and giggled at his antics. When he felt a small amount of weight land in his hands, he looked at Jade with his eyes wide and mouth in the shape of an ‘O’.

Whiskey let out a full belly laugh at his face and as he lifts his arms up to celebrate his win, he accidentally hits another guest in the face with the flowers. She had to put a hand over her mouth to stop the laughter from coming out and catching the attention of the others in the room.

Dragon came into the group and with a smirk, “Oh my god Ron! You caught the bouquet, you know what that means! Ron and Jade are next!” “Haha, Rachael. I know you did that on purpose.” “You can’t prove that, it was chance. I didn’t even look!” Dragon replied, hand over her heart as if offended.

“But I know you, and I know that you have a devious little plan in that head of yours.” Ron wiggled his pointer finger at her accusingly,“you’re half of the Chaos Crew, your always up to something.”

“Whatever, the court of law says that your innocent until proven guilty. Do you have any evidence, Mr. Kerner?” Ron huffs, “No, I don’t defendant.” “Then as the judge of this courtroom, as it is my wedding, I hear by say that Mrs. Rachael Dragon Kazansky is found not guilty and now exempted from all wrong doing.” “Fat chance for all of the wrong doing you and my fiancée get into.”

Ron made his way back to Jade and gave her a sweet kiss before sitting back down and playing with her hand. As the night finally came to an end, the couples said their goodbyes as the newly weds would be gone for a month on their honeymoon.

“You know I love you right?” Jade rolled her eyes jokingly, “Of course I do Babe. You wouldn’t have caught the bouquet if you didn’t wanna get married so soon.” “Rachael threw it at me, I’m telling you!” “Ah, don’t blame the Bride Ron. You were pushing me out of the way.” “As a joke!” “Don’t fool yourself, you wanted it wayyyyyyy more than anyone else.” “I only got up for you!” “You hit a woman in the face with the flowers!”

“On accident! Jade, seriously, I don’t believe in the rules of catching that stupid bouquet of flowers. We’ve set our date, and when we finally do say our “I Do’s” just know that it came at the best of time or us. We don’t need to rush our wedding to show our love for each other because of flowers tossed over the Bride’s head on her day. Focus on ours, because I can guarantee, ours will be so much better.”

“I love you too by the way, but if you ever accuse my best friend of something she 100% did again, I’ll have to hurt you.” She kissed him lovingly, before they got into his car and drove home.

Forever 🏷️ list: @mrsjaderogers @dragon-kazansky @bayisdying @gracespicybradshaw

🏷️ list:

[callsignthirsty]

Stuck in the Middle — Chapter 3 — Both

Co-written with a friend who isn't on tumblr. Pairing: Ron “Slider” Kerner x Reader x Tom “Iceman” Kazansky Summary: The one where Maverick’s sister is on a mission to give her brother a heart attack by sleeping with not one, but two of his colleagues. Word Count: 6400 Warnings: Smut, dirty talk, threesome, creampie(s) Chapter: 3/3 Read Previous Minors DNI

Pete returned home some hours later to find you in a very… festive scarf. Unfortunately for Goose, who had opted to stay with you until Pete arrived, it had done little to hide the hickeys littering your neck. That had been an interesting night.

Little did any of you know that hickeys, unseasonal scarves, and the Iceman would be the least of your worries in the coming days.

A hop gone wrong had you and Carole scrambling to get to the hospital.

They were alive, but it had been a close thing.

Pete was released that same day after a thorough evaluation. Goose was still unconscious. As tears leaked from his eyes, you knew that your brother was blaming himself, but there was little he could’ve done to avoid flying through Ice’s jetwash — Viper had stopped by the hospital to say as much.

You spent one, then two days in the hospital. Classes continued — fly long enough and it happens, they said, but Pete wasn’t ready to go up again. Not without Goose. And on the third day, like a miracle, Goose’s eyes blinked open. “Holy shit.” His voice was scratchy from disuse.

Carole sat upright at his side. “Nick?”

“Mav, where’s my camera?” Goose croaked, ignoring his wife. “There’s an angel by my bed. The guys ‘ll never believe it if I don’t take a picture.” When a nurse entered the room, relieved tears were tracking down a laughing Carole’s face, Bradley smiling in his Uncle Mav’s arms.

On the fourth day, Goose encouraged Pete to return to class because “You can’t let Ice and that big oaf run away with our trophy. They’ll never let us live it down.” Pete had reluctantly agreed when Goose gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry, honey. You’ll do great.”

Pete smiled. “Thanks, dear.”

So the summer continued: hot days spent on the tarmac and by Goose’s side. And then, graduation was just a day away. Goose, unfortunately, wouldn’t be able to attend, but he had enough points to graduate, and Pete planned on going for both of them. You, Pete knew, would be in the audience, and there lay his current predicament:

Iceman.

Well, more accurately: Slider. After he’d returned home from his date with Charlie, Pete got an eyeful of hickeys and Goose’s side of the story. Namely, everything had been fine until Kerner opened his big mouth and burrowed beneath Goose’s skin so that Ice could steal you away.

If Pete had any hopes of keeping you and Ice separated after the commencement ceremony, he needed Slider.

* * *

Classes wrap and Slider is cleaning out his locker when he becomes acutely aware that he's one of two people left in the room. And even though Mitchell's back is to him, years of training and locker room antics mean that Slider knows when he's being watched. But the silence grows long and goes stale to the point that he's almost convinced that Maverick isn't going to say anything — which is a surprise because Maverick always has something to say.

"Kerner."

There it is.

"Mitchell."

"Congrats on the trophy." It must be killing Maverick to say it, and Slider smiles because, yeah, the trophy is his. It feels fucking good. But that's not what Maverick stuck around to say. It isn’t what he’s after.

Slider doesn’t want to drag this out longer than it has to be, so he gets to the point. "What do you want?"

The question hangs while Maverick takes a second to think before speaking — and isn’t that a scary thought? — when he finally spits out: “I have a proposition for you.”

"I don't swing that way."

"What? No." And Maverick spins to shoot Slider a dirty look. "I want your help keeping Ice away from my sister. At graduation."

"Why me?" The million-dollar question, though Maverick doesn't realize it.

"If you're helping me, you aren't helping him," Maverick says like it should be obvious. And, okay, yeah, that’s fair.

"What makes you so sure I'll help you?" Slider can’t tamp down the Cheshire grin at the way Maverick squirms. But besides being his pilot, Ice is his friend, and… well, they aren’t putting labels on whatever this thing is with Mitchell’s sister. "Besides, I think he's earned a little celebration." Hadn't they both? From the look on Maverick’s face, Slider would say his answer is ‘no.’

"I can pay you."

“No, you can’t.” Because even if Mav did have money, which Slider’s sure he doesn’t, his price would be too high. The trophy and a fuck? Pete Mitchell would have to be the richest man alive.

“I heard the guys say you got yourself a girl.” It’s a reach at best, but it shocks Slider into silence. Briefly, he wonders if someone had, in fact, seen the two of you in or on his car. But if that were the case, he doubts Maverick would be talking with him now. “She coming to the ceremony?” Maverick tries as Slider collects himself, trying to come off cool and collected like Ice always manages to.

“She hasn’t decided yet.” A lie. You’ll be there. You wouldn’t miss it for the world. Hadn’t let Maverick and Goose come to Fightertown without you in the first place.

Maverick smiles as if he’s got an idea. An in. “If you help me out,” he says, “you can borrow my bike.”

“Why would I—”

“Ladies love it,” Maverick insists, and Slider ignores him in favor of clearing out his locker. “Even you’d look good on a bike, Kerner,” Maverick tries again. “Everyone does.”

“Hey.”

“Think about it,” Maverick’s voice drops as he sets the scene. “She’s clinging to you as you speed down the road. Wind in your hair. Her arms wrapped around your waist. Tight body pressed all up against your back. And the adrenaline rush—” Mav’s eyebrows raise as if he’s remembering something fondly or really trying to sell the idea “—makes for amazing sex.”

Slider can’t help the smug grin that overtakes him — ice-cold, no mistakes was never his schtick. “Is that right?”

Mav’s smiling too, his head nodding lightly like they’re on the same wavelength. And maybe they are because Slider’s thinking about it. “Mind-blowing.”

Well, if Mav insists. “Alright.”

“So you’ll do it?” Maverick seems almost surprised that it’s worked. Like he hadn’t imagined Slider was, in fact, a man who could be reasoned with.

“Yeah,” Slider confirms, zipping up his bag and knocking his locker shut one last time. “Don’t make me regret this.” He wouldn’t.

* * *

“Gentlemen,” Viper says from the podium with a proud smile. “You came here the best of the best. We made you better.” You sit near the front of the audience, smiling and clapping with everyone else as the speeches finish, and the Top Gun trophy is presented to Lt. Tom “Iceman” Kazansky and Lt. Ron “Slider” Kerner. The new nameplate shines brighter than the others, but maybe you’re biased.

As soon as you can, you’re up from your seat. You go to Pete first; give him a hug and a heartfelt congratulations. Then, when he’s distracted by another graduate asking after Goose, you slip away. You’ve successfully snuck up on Ice’s six and are seconds from giving him a congratulatory kiss when Slider moves to intercept. Time freezes for a moment, and you’re worried that Slider intends to kiss you in front of this crowd — Top Gun trophy still in the hands of the man most of his class knows you to be with. When the moment passes, however, that worry twists into deep-seated confusion.

Ice frowns. “What gives?” Because he’s never known Slider to be a cock-block.

“I’ve got orders.”

“From?” And you can see Pete smirking into his drink as Ice all but demands an answer.

“Mitchell.” You and Ice look at Slider as if he’s grown a second head. “With Mother Goose still in the hospital, he needed some help keeping the Iceman away from his baby sister.”

“And you accepted?” Ice’s jaw clenches.

“Deal’s a deal.” Ice scowls, the look wholly out of place considering the trophy still in his grasp.

“What did he offer you?” you can’t help but ask.

“Not important.” Somehow you doubt that.

The rest of the graduation party is… well, not what you’d expected or hoped for. For one, you’re still there. Every time you try to get close to Ice, either Slider or Pete gets in your way. And this is worse than Pete and Goose because Slider is intimately aware of all your evasion maneuvers �� he’d helped you come up with a good number of them.

You’re positive you’re going to scream when Viper swoops in with actual orders. Jester hands envelopes to Ice, Slider, Hollywood, and Wolfman. And Pete.

Before anyone can stop you, you wrap Ice in a hug. You throw your arms around Slider next, then Pete, who can’t be mad when you’re squeezing him like this might be the last time you get to. The “be safe” you whisper into his ear means more after Goose’s accident, but you don’t have time to talk about it before they’re all whisked away.

* * *

Maverick doesn’t want to give Slider his bike when they return to Fightertown. Says he’d barely had to work for it since they’d left the graduation party early.

“A deal’s a deal, Mav,” Slider says, but it’s gentler than it would’ve been a week ago. Mav and Ice are wingmen now, so Slider’s trying to be nice. Not too nice. Not I’ll-stop-fucking-your-sister nice — and Slider supposes that’s the one that counts the most — but nice-nice.

It’s a start.

You’d received no fewer than three phone calls, so you’re not surprised to hear the motorcycle roll up to the curb. What does surprise you is Slider at your door with Pete’s keys in his hand.

“Come on,” he says as he gathers you in his arms until you can feel the solid ba-dum of his heart on your cheek. “We’re going for a ride.”

It feels strange climbing onto Pete’s Kawasaki behind Slider, but as the engine roars to life and you wrap your arms around his middle, you’re confident you’ll enjoy it while it lasts.

Slider pulls over at a roadside diner. Ice is already inside, fingers drumming against a table in the corner and Academy ring glinting in the sun when Slider holds the door open for you. He beams when he sees you and makes room beside him at the booth. It seems only fitting to sit beside him since you’d been clinging to Slider moments ago.

The three of you catch up over food and a shared milkshake. Ice and Slider tell you what they can about the mission: the tight bunks, the awful food, the budding friendship with your brother. In exchange, you give them the latest on Goose’s progress in physical therapy. It’ll be a long road to recovery, but if anyone can do it, you know it’s Goose.

When you’re ready to leave, Slider wants to take you out for a spin — after all, he’s been assured that the ladies dig a man on a bike, and he wants to test that theory.

Slider would rather swallow glass or wait in line at the DMV than admit it out loud, but Mav’s right. The warm press of you along his back, small hands clutching at his waist as the engine hums between your thighs, is something else. Ice isn’t thrilled to see him climb onto the bike with you, both sans helmet, and insists on trailing behind the bike in case something goes wrong. It won’t, but whatever makes Ice feel better, Slider supposes.

And although his tailing had started as a protective compulsion, Ice quite likes the way you look wrapped around Slider — your hair a wind-tousled mess and jacket snapping in the wind.

It’s purely coincidence when you spot Charlie’s Porsche at a stoplight; its top down and a familiar head of cropped black-brown hair behind the wheel. At first, Pete offers Slider a cheeky grin, a friendly wave, and then — out of curiosity, you’re sure — his eyes slide to the back of his bike. You can’t bring yourself to hide your face, frozen when Pete’s eyes lock on you and almost bug out of his head, his smile dropping and face ashen with sudden realization. Slider’s laughter reverberates through your chest. The light chooses that moment to turn green, and Slider takes off.

Over your shoulder, Ice honks when Pete refuses to move, a smug smile on his lips as he zips after you.

When you return to Ice and Slider’s place, you rest your cheek in the space between Slider’s shoulder blades, your own shoulders shaking as your mirth bubbles over, and soon you’re shaking from the rush of it all.

Cat’s definitely out of the bag now.

Once the door is open, Slider gets to work. By the time Ice walks in, Slider already has your back against the wall, lips taking yours in a bruising kiss as adrenaline courses through your veins. His big hands slide beneath your shirt to cup you over your bra. Damn Mav, but he’s right. And, as your fingers catch in his shirt-back and pull him closer, Slider has zero intentions of letting you go anytime soon. Not when he’s got you exactly where he wants you. Definitely not when each slide of his tongue over yours teases cute noises from the back of your throat.

Ice must be thinking something similar because he’s quick to join you. His fingers find yours tangled in Slider’s shirt to help you lift it until the RIO has to break your kiss to take the offending garment off. It’s a mistake that Ice takes full advantage of, stealing your lips in a kiss of his own.

Hands resting on your hips, Ice guides you around until he’s the one leaning against the wall. He’d wrap an arm around your waist to tug you closer, but Slider is already plastering himself to your back, so Ice settles for a deep kiss and revels in the wanton noise it earns him.

Without the sweet distraction of a kiss, Slider works your jacket down your arms and into a heap on the floor. He takes your hands in his and leads one into his hair; the other he guides down until it’s slipping under the loose hem of Ice’s shirt. Ice jolts at the skin-to-skin contact and your answering moan gets lost between the slick slide of lips and tongues. Your teeth clack against Ice’s when Slider presses his hips into yours with a sinful grind that drags his cock against the swell of your ass as he finally sucks a mark into your neck — consequences be damned. But instead of pulling him away, the hand in Slider’s hair encourages him. You tilt your head to the side and re-slot your lips against Ice’s while giving Slider more room to work a deep bruise into smooth skin.

One of Ice’s hands cradles the back of your head, his lips working insistently against yours as your hand trails fire over his abs and up to his chest. Perfect teeth catch on your bottom lip and you break apart panting, but then Ice pulls you back for more greedy kisses. His other hand grabs one of your belt loops and uses it to pull your hips away from Slider’s so they’re flush with his own.

While Ice keeps your mouth occupied, Slider’s hands return to the thin material of your bra. He’s growing more impatient with each of your whimpers, the steady roll of Ice’s hips pushing your ass back against his erection which, to Slider’s exasperation, is still trapped uncomfortably beneath the rough denim of his pants. With a barely-there nip that erupts goosebumps across your shoulders, Slider rucks your shirt up until it’s bunched beneath your arm, but Ice refuses to stop kissing you — whether because he’s a greedy bastard or because he’s skeptical that Slider will steal your lips away the way Ice had was anyone’s guess.

The sharp rip of tearing fabric wrenches your lips from Ice faster than anything else Slider could’ve thought up, your nipples pebbling as cold air assaults your heated skin. “Hey!” you scold as the fabric falls limp to the floor.

“I’ll buy you a new one,” Slider promises as he unhooks your bra with deft fingers and grabs your chin to pull you in, licking at your lips before taking them in another harsh kiss. You let yourself be turned from Ice to chase the feeling of Slider’s lips claiming yours. Behind you, Ice flings your bra to the side and hastily removes his own shirt.

Slider may be driving, what with the way he has both you and Ice trapped against the wall, but Ice is far from passive. The two join forces in an all-out assault on you from both sides. Hands bumping as they knead and tease and take you apart piece by delicious piece. Teeth scraping against your collarbone. Your nipples pebbling between calloused fingers. Chests heaving. Lips smacking. The sweet friction of denim dragging over denim as you all move together. Sighs, growls, and groans lost between teeth and tongues. The mixing taste of them on your tongue as they push and pull, give and take.

You shiver, moaning into Ice’s mouth as he plays with your tits. Not to be ignored, Slider shoves a hand down the front of your jeans, two fingers working deep into your dripping cunt. Then Slider’s fingers are gone, and before you can say something in protest, you squeal as he throws you over his shoulder. “Ron!” you giggle, another excited shout leaving you as one of Slider’s hands lands playfully on your ass and he turns to bite at your hip just above the line of your jeans as he moves the party to the bedroom.

Slider throws you onto the bed, and you bounce before settling tousled among the pillows. Your thighs fall open in a wanton display, and you crook a finger to reel Slider in until he’s licking a path from your open zipper and up to nibble at your jaw until he’s stretched over you. You moan at how he fits so snugly between your legs and his chest rubs against your own.

“How do you want to do this?” Ice asks, leaning against the doorframe, his arms flexing none-too-subtly when your eyes find him over Slider’s shoulder. He’s a sight to behold — cheeks a slight, breathless pink, arms crossed beneath his chest, belt buckle weighing down the open flap of his pants to reveal more smooth skin and the tented white of his briefs. You lose sight of him when Slider turns his head.

“You can take her mouth since you’ve been hogging it all night.” Slider kisses your cheek, his dark eyes on your as he crawls back down your body. “I’ve been thinking about this pussy for days.”

Ice crosses the room with unhurried steps, long fingers caressing your jaw. “Is that what you want?” he asks, thumb tracing your full bottom lip while Slider mouths at your hip bones. The RIO’s hands slowly pull your jeans and panties down to savor the moment. You bite your lip, briefly catching Ice’s thumb before he pulls it back. A flush of heat travels through you as Slider’s eyes meet your own and he presses a final kiss to your hip bones before he ventures lower.

When you nod, Ice pulls his cock free, eyes never leaving yours as he pumps himself lazily and kicks the rest of his clothes all the way off. Opposite him, Slider grips your leg behind the knee and raises it, revealing the diamond of your cunt. You keen, fingers threading through Slider’s hair and hips jerking as his tongue drags over your core. Lightly stubbled cheeks rub against your sensitive thighs and set them aflame as Slider’s eyes blow wide, his breath fanning over your clit before he gets to work.

Not to be forgotten, Ice’s fingers return to your jaw, light but with enough pressure to turn you back to him. His cock hangs heavy between his thighs as the bed dips to accommodate him. As he rubs the head across the seam of your lips, Slider pushes his tongue against your slick folds with a groan. You’re buzzing, jaw falling open with a sweet noise, and Ice gives into the temptation to tap his cock to your tongue before pulling back and smearing saliva and precum across your cheek.

Unprompted, you take the tip between your lips, tonguing at the slit to savor Ice’s taste before trying to work more of him into your mouth. Slider watches from between your thighs as Ice lets out a low groan, his hand falling into your hair as you work his cock in and out of your mouth. All the while, Slider’s tongue continues to fuck into you, a finger coming to rub spit and arousal into your clit until you’re trembling, hips seeking out the slick press. Slider slips a finger into you alongside his tongue, reveling in the way that Ice’s cock slips from between your lips as you unabashedly moan, thoroughly distracted from your current task.

Distantly, Slider thinks that the real surprise isn’t that Hollywood and Wolf had heard you; it’s that it took them so long.

Ice brings one of your hands up to fist around his cock, his eyes glued to Slider as he continues to wring more wanton cries from you.

Slider smacks his lips. “She tastes good.”

“Yeah?” Ice’s Adam’s apple bobs.

Slider takes another lick that’s purely for show, his chin covered in your juices. “Sweetest pussy there ever was.” Ice groans as he imagines it, cock twitching as he thrusts into your fist, and Slider ducks down to suck on your clit before he asks: “Want a taste?”

“Fuck yes.”

Slider stands back and practically rips his pants off while Ice takes his place between your thighs. Ice throws your legs over his shoulders before diving in and drinking his fill. He groans as the tang of your sex explodes across his tongue, your heels digging into his back. Slurps at your dripping cunt with a fervor that makes your back arch off the bed.

“Please,” you cry.

“What do you want, sweetheart,” Slider asks, suddenly at your side and taking one of your nipples into his hot mouth.

You whine, arching up into Slider and down against Ice’s face. “Fuck me. Please.”

“Well, when you ask so pretty.”

“Don’t worry, baby,” Ice soothes. He scrambles up, already running the leaking tip of his cock through your spit-slick folds. “I’ll fuck you real good.”

Slider raises a brow. “Why do you get to fuck her first?”

“Because I’m here.”

For a moment, you’re worried they’re going to break into rock, paper, scissors. Slider looks ready to get up and do something about Ice taking advantage of his generosity — he’d said Ice could have your mouth, dammit. But before he does, or you can whine for someone to hurry up and fuck you already, Ice’s hand settles on the curve of your waist, and he pushes in. You groan. Slider drops back against the bed and rolls his eyes. He shouldn’t be surprised; Ice always gets what he wants.

As the jut of Ice’s hips settle against you, Slider takes your lips in another kiss, his hands kneading at your tits. It isn’t his first choice, but Slider can be content with this — swallowing your needy moans, tracing the outline of your lips with his tongue. Making up for the time he’s lost with your mouth to Ice’s greed.

Each rock of Ice’s hips causes your tits to jump the slightest bit within Slider’s large palms and against his tongue as he sucks on a perky bud and applies gentle pressure with his teeth. Before his lips find yours again, his hand trails up your chest and applies gentle pressure to your neck. You shiver, arching into the touch. Slider loves the dazed expression, the slack ‘o’ of your spit-glazed lips when you wear his hand like a necklace, and your eyes brim with rampant desire. He dives in to leave a mark just below your jaw, reveling in the way that you dig your nails into his hair and the way your head is thrown back, and the way you must be clenching around Ice from the strained “fuck” he hears coming from the foot of the bed.

Slider lets out his own punched-out “fuck” when your hand wraps around his cock and strokes. It’s uncoordinated with the way Ice is trying to take you apart and awkward due to the angle, but that’s more than fine. Slider needs something to take the edge off, and your touch is just that. He doesn’t want to finish in your hand. Not tonight.

You bring your lips to Slider’s and let him take the lead while Ice turns his attention to your legs. He lifts one up to his shoulder, and you hum into your kiss at the stretch. Progressively sloppier kisses are pressed from your ankle up your calf. Ice’s new angle has him sinking deeper into you, but he keeps his thrusts slow, the cadence so different from the one you’d had on the beach, but one that — if kept up — he knows will have your legs shaking, back arching, nails scratching. Especially if he keeps hitting that spot.

As it is, your cunt is clenching around him with each forward shove of his hips into yours. Squeezing around him as if to keep him inside of you. Milking him.

With a curse, Ice pulls out, and you break from Slider to whine at the sudden empty feeling. Ice gropes at your hip and offers it a pat before he’s encouraging you to roll over. As you move to accommodate the change in position, Slider grabs you, and you yelp as he manhandles you onto your knees.

“Hey,” Ice says.

Slider just turns you so you’re facing Ice and enters you with a harsh snap of his hips. “My turn.” You want to chastise them, tell them to play nice, but all that comes out is a pathetic mewl. Slider’s smile is haughty. “Still so tight even after Ice fucked you,” he groans as your walls suck him in. Your jaw falls slack, and a pleasured noise tumbles free into the night. When Slider has you screaming, one of his hands fists in your hair. “Come on,” he growls. “Open that pretty little mouth for Ice.” And you do, tongue lolling out over your bottom lip as you look up from beneath thick lashes.

Every time Slider’s hips crash into yours, you’re pushed further down Ice’s cock. Your taste is heavy on his skin, an intoxicating mixture of tang and his musk. Sweet. Salty. You suck more vigorously, hollowing your cheeks as your head swims. When Ice’s hips jerk forward and his cock tickles the back of your throat, you moan long and low. The vibration pulls a shiver from Ice, his fingers whispering across your flushed cheeks and attempting to card through your hair where Slider has it pulled tight.

When Slider nails your sweet spot, you pull off of Ice. “Ah, fuck!”

“That’s right, sweetheart,” Slider preens, releasing your hair to smack your ass. “Want you to let everyone know who’s making you feel this good.” He holds your hips still and grinds torturously into you when you don’t comply.

“God, Ron,” you gasp. “Don’t stop!”

“That’s it, baby,” Slider says. You bite your lip self-consciously, wanting to keep your pleasure from the ears of any passersby.

Ice thumbs your lip free of your teeth. Rubs over the indents left behind until you let out another pathetic whine. “Don’t hold back,” he murmurs. “It’s okay. We want to hear you. Everyone already knows.”

Slider’s hips slam forward. “Now let them all know how good you feel.”

Ice catches you as your arms give out and lifts you up until you’re clutching his shoulders. You kiss him desperately as Slider picks up the pace, the clap of skin on skin filling the bedroom. Slider buries himself in your neck to leave another bruise as you cling to Ice. Your kisses are less lips and more teeth and tongues now, but you couldn’t care less. Ice’s palms caress your sides while Slider’s hands anchor themselves on your hips to pull you back against him with each increasingly desperate thrust. The kisses Ice gives you do little to shut you up at this point, to neither man’s disappointment. You’re stuck between them. Nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide. Nowhere you’d rather be when Ice’s hand leaves your side to play with your clit, delicately circles it as Slider continues to hammer into you.

In the end, that’s what does you in, your head thrown back against Slider’s shoulder as both men work together to take you apart.

Distantly, you’re aware of Slider’s grip tightening enough to bruise, the stutter of his hips, and the garbled curses as he presses tight between your quivering thighs and cums.

Gentle fingers turn your head to the side, and Slider captures your lips in a kiss. Simple. Passionate. His tongue rolls over yours as his hands smooth over your hip bones and down your thighs. He shakes as he soaks in the closeness, your highs still crashing through you.

He pulls you with him as he half lays back against the headboard, cum dribbling from your cunt as his spent cock slips free. You melt back against his broad chest and hum as you settle against him. Slider feels warm, and you still tingle everywhere he touches you.

The bed dips as Ice crawls forward until he’s knelt between your knees, his hands planted against the duvet on either side of Slider’s thighs. “You still up for round two?” Your pussy pulses at the thought, more of Slider’s cum trailing down the crack of your ass. Ice gathers the cum on his middle and ring finger and pushes it back into you with a wet squelch. You can’t help but clench around his long fingers, back arching when one of Slider’s hands presses flat against your lower abdomen and encourages more of his pearly essence to leak out around Ice’s fingers, both of them entranced by the sight.

“Words, baby,” Slider whispers breathless and sated against your ear. “You need him to fuck you?” Ice closes his eyes and groans, his cock twitching red and heavy where it leaks against your thigh. “Need Ice to fill up that pretty pussy?”

“She’s already so full.”

“I can take it.” Your legs circle Ice’s trim waist and drag him closer still. You feel hot as you imagine him spilling within you. Being so full of Ice and Slider both that you can’t possibly keep it all inside. “I want it.”

That’s all that Ice needs to hear. He wastes no time sinking into you right up to the hilt with a sinful groan. Trembles when you cry out, soft and exquisite, your eyes already blissed out but your cunt still so wet and needy, gripping him tight as if you were the one who hadn’t cum mere minutes ago.

Each rock drives you into Slider’s chest. Not to be left out, the RIO’s arms lazily snake around to cup your breasts and tweak your nipples, his lips subdued but no less sizzling as they skim over the marks he left on you earlier.

Ice leans close, his glacial eyes dark and blown wide, lids at half-mast. He catches your bottom lip between his teeth and worries at it until you gasp, releasing it with a slick pop. “Tom.” It’s not a scream like earlier, more a frantic, heady pant, your voice rough as it washes over Ice in all the right ways. It tingles low in his spine and raises goosebumps along his arms until his shoulders bunch with the feeling.

You arch up, away from Slider’s chest but into fingers clamped over your nipples as Ice’s rhythm falters. The wet clapping of your sex is loud between your ears compared to the heavy sighs and the continuous squeak of old bed springs.

Ice gulps. “You’re so sensitive.” It’s true. Every touch feels like fire. Like straight electricity. Like pleasedon’tletgodon’tstop! and Ice’s dentist won’t be pleased with how he’s clenching his jaw. Drawing in ragged breaths and grinding his teeth to make this last even the slightest bit longer. But you’re right there with him.

Slider’s calloused fingers tap against your clit, and you’re gone. A silent scream passes your lips as you pull tight like a bow and release, and Ice snaps with you.

The three of you lie together in a pile of sweaty limbs. Cum and arousal leak thickly down your thigh and onto the bed. Despite the mess, none of you are willing to move. This is the most comfortable you’ve been in weeks. Floating somewhere high above the bed. Ice is your blanket, and Slider your pillow. At least for a couple blissful minutes.

“Alright,” Slider says, nudging none too gently at Ice’s shoulder, “get off. You’re heavy.”

Instead of telling Slider to go fuck himself, Ice rolls his shoulders and peels himself off of you. He marvels at the mess they’ve made between your legs, then moves to get off the bed and start the shower.

The shower, it turns out, is a waste.

You don’t get much sleep that night.

* * *

After breakfast, Ice helps you into his car and drives you to the hospital while Slider wheels Pete’s bike to his housing assignment just a couple doors down. Ice pulls the car to a smooth stop right in front of the visitor’s entrance. He gives you a sweet kiss on the lips, then leans up to place one on your forehead. You breathe him in — spearmint, sunscreen, aftershave.

“Will we see you tonight?” You shrug, resting your forehead against Ice’s shoulder as his hand gently massages the back of your neck. “I’m just a call away if you need me to pick you up.”

“I know,” you say, giving Ice a quick peck before opening the car door and stepping out.

As you get closer to your destination, you become increasingly aware that you’re wearing yesterday’s clothes and one of Slider’s definitely-too-big-for-you shirts. But that doesn’t stop you from slipping into Goose’s room with a knock.

“Look who decided to show up.” Pete’s arms are crossed over his chest, brows furrowed in his patent big brother scowl, but Carole is smiling where she sits at her husband’s bedside, Bradley sitting on his lap. When you don’t say anything, Pete continues: “You didn’t come home last night.”

Goose turns to you, wide-eyed and head bobbing, before falling back against his stacked pillows. They must have already given him his post-PT drugs. “Wait, where were you, then?” Pete glares at his best friend; it takes a minute for Goose's drug-addled mind to catch up. “Oh.” Goose covers Bradley’s ears, then loudly whispers to his wife, “She was having sex with The Iceman.”

“Thank you, Goose,” Pete bites in frustrated exasperation while Carole giggles.

“He wouldn’t have found out if she wore the scarf I bought her,” Goose insists before turning back to you. “Did you show Carole the scarf?” Back to his wife. “It’s a great scarf, hun.” Great was a relative term. He’d bought it from a 7-Eleven.

Carole nods, Goose dopily nodding along with her. “I bet it is.”

“Can we talk about literally anything else?” Pete asks, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Eventually, you’ll have to accept that this is a thing, Pete,” you say. It comes out strong, but internally you’re a quivering mess. You love your brother, but you can’t live your life for him; you have to live it for yourself.

Pete sighs. “I know, it’s just… a lot.” And... yeah.

“I know,” you say. Because it is a lot, and that’s okay. It can be a lot. You just need him to be okay with it. Okay with you.

“It’s just…” Pete shakes his head. “Kerner? Really? Ice, I get, but Slider?” Your cheeks heat, but you refuse to look away even if you’re sure the floor looks incredibly interesting right about now.

“Oh my god,” Goose gasps. “Carole?”

“Yes, honey?”

“Did you know she was sleeping with Slider, too?”

Carole grins, shaking her head. “No.”

“Mav.”

Pete sighs. “What, Goose?”

“Did you know—”

“I’m the one who just told you.” You can’t help but smile at your brother’s displeasure.

“So when we were keeping her away from Ice… was she just off with Slider?”

Pete’s head whips from Goose to you, and this time you give into temptation and study the floor. “Well, we Mitchells aren’t exactly known for our good decisions, are we?” you mumble. Pete can’t help but laugh at that.

“No, we’re not.” And with that, some of the tension bleeds out of the room.

Until Goose bolts upright, almost knocking Bradley from his lap. “We’re at a hospital.” Everyone gives Goose a confused look. He’s known he’s been at the hospital since he woke up — had the doctors switched up his meds? But Goose is staring intently at you now. “Do you need to take a pregnancy test? The nurses gave me this button that I can push to bring them in and– Mav, you okay?”

Pete does not look okay. His face is ashen, eyes wide but unseeing as he slowly slides down the hospital wall.

“Goose, dear,” Carole says with a hand on her husband’s arm as she watches Pete with a careful eye, “you can press the button now.”

“Ahh yisss,” Goose slurs, hugging Bradley close and spamming the nurse-call button.

[drowninginliquidsmooth]

a oneshot idea for Iceman: being married to Ice and pregnant with your guys' first child. him being guilty that hes never around bcs being a pilot is demanding. but you assure him you understand and tht you have a great support system around to help out.

Pregnant With Guilt -

Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky x Fem!Wife!Pregant!Reader

Thank you so much for this request, I changed it slightly to have a very cute ending- but I hope you will still enjoy it <3

Warnings: slight angst, lots of mentions of pregnancy (if there are anymore please let me know)

Tom’s POV

Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky, was an excellent Naval Aviator- A TOPGUN graduate- but the mission he was on at that moment in time was proving rather difficult.

It wasn’t because he was a bad pilot- but he was struggling to accept the fact that he was hundreds of miles from his beloved wife, who was pregnant with their first child.

He desperately wanted to be at home with you, spending his days doting on you and your baby. He could hardly concentrate in whilst he hung out with his squadron at the bar, all he could think about you sitting at home alone taking care of yourself and your growing baby.

Most nights, he went to bed early and dreamt about the night you told him the sacred news.

You had known for two weeks already but you had been spending time putting together the perfect surprise for your husband. Whilst he was out playing volleyball with Slider, you had gone to the shops and put to gather your surprise.

At 6:30, Tom came home as you served up his favourite meal.

“Baby,” he sighed kissing your cheek, before sitting down at the table “you didn’t have to make this.”

“You right Tom, I didn’t have to, but I did,” you had told him with an over-exaggerated wink. “Now dig in I have a surprise for ya,”

That night, Tom had eaten his meal in flash, clearly eager to discover what was waiting for him.

You told him to wait in his seat, before moving the pots into the kitchen and returning with a large gold box, tied with a black bow.

“Honey, what’s this for?” He questioned, suddenly worried that he had forgotten an important event.

“Just open it my love, and all will be revealed,” you slid the box closer to him on the table.

You had been hit by a sudden splash of nerves as he delicately undid the lavish bow and removed the box’s lid.

You couldn’t meet his eyes, instead staring at your lap has he gasped.

Tears had began to trickle down Tom’s face as he was met with the sight of two positive pregnancy tests which sat atop a beige baby blanket, and next to them sat a beautifully crafted rattle in the form of a giraffe.

Quickly he stood and grabbed you into a strong hug, you stood up against him and felt him grin into you shoulder.

“I’m gonna be a daddy!!” He screamed at the top of his voice.

“You’re gonna be a daddy Tommy,” you giggled.

He was deployed Three weeks later.

Tom had only been gone eight weeks when you called him, baring the news that your baby had kicked for the first time.

Tom was so happy that the baby was seemingly healthy, but simultaneously devastated that he wasn’t there to feel his son or daughter make their first movements.

That night, Tom had fallen asleep crying. His mind was filled with doubts about his ability to be a father. He felt he was already letting his baby down, as he was not their to watch it develop and he knew that his job would lead to a great absence in his child’s life.

Tom got the news that he would be home the same time you turned 23 weeks pregnant and he couldn’t wait. He had practically rant through the airport towards his five hour flight- his body aching to cradle your own.

Your Pov

The news of your husband’s return caused a sense of relief to wash over you.

Whilst he was away, you had all the help you could get from your mother and older sister, who had gone through six pregnancies between them. Their experience had meant that your pregnancy had been a lot easier than it could have been.

The soon to be grandmother and aunty were constantly at your side, then cleaned for you, helped you through morning sickness and growing pains, and even took you to your scans.

Only your mother knew the gender of your child, as you wanted to wait for Tom to return before finding out, and she had promised to keep the secret until a gender reveal could be arranged.

Due to all the help you had received, you were never alone. Most of the time you greatly appreciated this, but sometimes all you craved was to lay snuggled in bed with a book (and preferably your lover) where you could attempt to relax for the first time in months.

Your sister was the one who had took you to the airport, you both waited outside the exit as you knew inside would be a difficult place to be when you were pregnant.

However, as the ETA of your husband came closer, your sister returned to the car - wishing to allow the two of you to reunite in peace.

You were positively buzzing with excitement when you got the first glimpse of bright blond hair, and then all of a sudden you were in the the strong arms of the love of your life as he covered your face in kisses.

“Oh darling I have missed you so much,” he mumbled into the crook of your neck

“Tommy that tickles! I’ve missed you two though honey,” you giggled.

Quickly Tom dropped to his knees and began to say hello to your child, pressing kisses all over your bump.

Eventually you were dropped of home by your sister, who was only slightly disgusted by the amount of kisses shared on the backseat of her car.

You were surprised however, when Tom once again scooped you into a hug as the door to your home was closed. You were used to his affection, but you were startled by your lover crying in your arms.

“Oh Tommy, baby, what’s wrong?” You gasped, worried that something had happened on the mission.

“I’m so sorry baby, I’m so so sorry, I should’ve been here for you these past months. I should have been the one caring for you, but instead I’ve been on the other side of the country!” He sobbed into you, and you moved so you were both sat on your living room sofa.

“Oh my love, I didn’t know you were so upset about this, but my love I promise I’ve been okay, I have been properly cared for these few months- and now we get to live out the rest of my pregnancy together,” you explained, honestly shocked that he felt this way.

“I know that honey, and I am so grateful for the fact that you’ve been cared for up to this point and that I’m now here to love you, but this is our first child, I should have been here for the entire pregnancy,”

You didn’t speak yet, you just placed one of your husband’s hands on your belly, so he could feel your baby as it began to kick, this made his eyes widen and his sons worsen, however.

“I wasn’t even there for our child’s first kick and this feels magical now, but I wish I could have felt the first time with you. And what if it happens again? What if you become pregnant again and I have to leave?”

At this point you were both laid on the sofa, one of Tom’s hands were rubbing over your belly , and the other held your hand.

You gently shushed him, cooing at him until he was calm, “Sweetheart, I don’t know what the future holds for us but I know your an excellent husband, and I’m certain you’ll be an even better father. Please I beg you, don’t worry, everything will work out for us.”

“I can’t dare to even think about our child growing up with an absent father like I did, this job is risky. Our son or daughter doesn’t deserve to be raised by a widow mother, or to have a childhood where they see their father every few months. This job makes me an inadequate parent- you don’t deserve that my love,” Tom told you, he had began to cry again and it was clear as day that he was struggling with fatherhood.

“Honey, what are you saying? We knew the risks of your job going into this marriage. I know we weren’t trying for a baby yet but I had assumed you wished for a bigger family one day. Did I get that wrong?” You questioned, now worried you didn’t know your love as well as you had once believed.

“My love, I want nothing more than a family with you, but my job means that I can’t have that in the way I wanted,” he told you, wiping his tears on his long sleeves.

“So what do we do,” you questioned, “is this you leaving me?” Tears began to well up in your eyes, he wouldn’t, surely.

“No,no,no, honey I would never,” he gasped, before pressing kisses across your cheeks.

“It means, I’m leaving the Navy,” he announced.

This news shook you to your core, it was only two years ago that Tom had been promoted to Captain. Would he really give it all up?

“Tom are you serious? This job was your dream?” You asked, placing one of your hands on each of his cheeks.

“Well, having a family with you is my new dream, I have a lot of money from the Navy, so we could open that bookshop you’ve always dreamed of. Look, I’m 42 years old, I don’t need to be flying fast planes anymore, I need to be surrounded by my family!” He laid out his plan and you could tell he had been considering this for a while now.

“Oh baby, you know I would you’ve that, but only if you want it too,” you told him, before press a firm kiss to his lips.

“That’s it settled then, Tom Kazansky is retiring from the U.S Navy!” He exclaimed, beaming at you.