#kazanksy writes

[scarebats]

“The second I saw you from across that bar, two years ago now, there hasn’t been an agonizing moment of where I long for you. Even if we spoke through post cards, it’s been painful to hold back the flood of emotion. Every letter and phone call, I’ve been dying to tell you. When we were in the locker room, just after Goose passed, I just wanted to hold you and never let go. I don’t care if Charlie was your rock to keep you at Top Gun. The only thing I love more than flying in this entire universe, is you. The way the military won’t even let me pour my heart into a paragraph has left me suffering alone on a carrier for months. Please, I don’t want to make a fool of myself. Tell me if you’re holding back as much as I have.”

Tom stares at the letter. He could send it, risk this entire relationship that he’s been building for years, and maybe he’ll get something good out of it.

“The worst he could say is ‘no’, Ice,” Is what Ron’s very helpful advice to calm his nerves was. Of course that’s the worst he could say, but what’s the worst he could do?

Pete could read the words that represent Tom’s love for Pete, the best he could that’s one page, from across whichever ocean he’s on. He could laugh at it, show everyone, get Tom dishonourably discharged, and completely ruin everything he’s ever worked for.

With this letter, just some dumb piece of paper, it could make his future vanish. Maybe Tom will regret even meeting Pete. He can’t imagine himself resenting Pete, though. Pete could mess up his career, his life, and Tom would never hate him for it. Any opinion that Pete has, Tom will respect it even if he disagrees.

There’s so much of Tom’s heart seeping into the pen that he used to write, his love bleeds into the paper. Tom could shred it, he could get rid of any evidence of how much he feels for another man. Ron would never expose him, he hopes.

Tom takes a deep breath through his nose, and he seals the letter in an ordinary envelope. Like some teenager leaving a note in their crush’s locker, Tom feels giddy as he writes Pete’s name on the back.

He licks his lips, and grabs his keys to go to the post office. At least he won’t have to see the look of rejection and disgust. Not even pity.

—

love ice confessing💕

[valmare]

Congrats on 100 followers !!! So excited for you!

Could I get “I think I might be in some kind of love with you.” with Tom? We all know I’m an Ice gal

💜💜💜

Who doesn't love Ice? Here's your fluffy Kazanksy, he's just too much fun to write. Enjoy and thanks so much for your follow and your ask, babe!

Wingman

“Bradley! Bradley, come on—you like peanut butter and jelly, remember?” 

The edge of the divided alphabet plate is mere inches from nose diving off the table, threatening a mess of sticky Peter Pan and strawberry jelly on what appears to be bright-and-shiny, freshly waxed linoleum.

Locked in a staring contest with the curlicue of a five-year-old your best friend Nick Bradshaw has entrusted you with, your heart is hammering harder than you ever remember in your short lifespan. 

Feet frozen in place, your hand is extended as if somehow you’ve managed to become some kind of Jedi. Attempting to force-control Bradley Bradshaw into cooperation failed, the burp of skin on plastic is nearly deafening as his fat little finger skips across the table, flicking at the separated plate you’d set in front of him moments ago. 

“B!” The high pitch of your voice matches the heart jumping behind your ribs–never in your adult life would you have dreamed to ever be so worried about a sandwich, “please—eat your lunch, ok? Your daddy says you like PB and J,” 

Time seems to stand still. Exhausted, blood pumping hard through your ears, you feel like you’ve wrestled a bull the entire afternoon. Or maybe a Tasmanian devil. Bradley has been nothing but a high-strung ball of energy since you sent Nick and Carole off for their afternoon, insisting that things would be fine. 

In hindsight, maybe you should’ve heeded Carole’s warning of letting Bradley play outside a few hours before lunch. “He gets so cooped up and off the rails if you take him out and let him burn through some of that after-nap energy,” the gall of the woman to actually laugh, “He’s super into Indiana Jones, and you’ll be a great sub in my absence as the damsel in distress.”

But Bradley hadn’t wanted to play outside today. He’d wanted to play dinosaurs in his room with his little green army men, and together you’d both had a blast decimating Sarge and his unit with Tom the T-Rex. Blithely unaware of the gorgeous day outside and its 90 degree sunshine, A/C had been an appreciated alternative. At the time. 

 But now? You were going to either kill Nick’s kid, or die of exhaustion—whichever came first. 

Bradley had started acting up about an hour ago, when he refused to clean up the toys in his room. An all-out hissy fit had transpired as Tom the T-Rex had been violently thrown out the bedroom door, hitting the wall with a thunk. 

Feeling sorry for Tom, and staring with popped brows of surprise as Bradley screamed in his bedroom, very quickly your ovaries had shrank into near non-existence at the idea of someday willing choosing this for yourself. 

“Pizza!” He shrieks, arms flapping in tantrum like some kind of pterodactyl, which ironically matches the dinosaur on the t-shirt underneath his overalls, “I want pizza!” His little high-pitched boy voice is ringing off the walls of the military housing unit as his bottom lip begins to quiver. 

Crocodile tears well up in his soft brown eyes, angry color flaring on his chubby cheeks as he gives the plate one final shove, glaring at it like it has committed a grave offense. 

Flinching as the plastic rattles to the linoleum, you puff out a dramatic sigh and scrub your face with your be-jeweled fingers, the cool rings doing little to tame the heat fanning across the bridge of your nose. Your heart has stopped throbbing in worry over the thoroughly dead sandwich, pulse returning to some kind of normal between your ears. 

Gnawing at your bottom lip in defeat, you eyeball the splattered peanut butter and jelly and brea. It’s flattened and thoroughly stuck to the floor as Bradley leans over the side of his booster to look at his handiwork. Blinking at it, he looks back to you without even missing a beat, before grabbing the Flintstone cup of milk and taking a long swig. 

“Pizza,” you mutter with a roll of your eyes, crossing to the head of the table. “You win, kiddo. Pizza it is.” You’ve never felt more defeat in your life, which is really saying something, because the taste of second place is something you’re all too familiar with being friends with Nick Bradshaw and his motley crew of stick jockey aviators. 

Grabbing your purse, you retrieve your wallet and march to the phone mounted on the wall. Spinning the numbers, you order a pizza for yourself and the Bradshaw demon now absolutely adorably singing a song he must’ve picked up from his father, and hung up after the deadbeat clerk monotoned a goodbye. 

Plunking down in a chair, your elbows hit the table and cradle your head as you sigh out a breath from the base of your gut. A headache is starting to bloom behind your eyes, and sweat is beading down the length of your spine, drawing your t-shirt and jeans to your skin in the most unpleasant way possible.

Toes curling against the linoleum in an effort to release tension, Bradley begins singing his ABCs in the cutest way possible. 

You jump when the phone releases a shrill shriek across the kitchen. For a minute your mind jogs, trying to remember if Carole had asked you to take any calls.

Nick had told you to go ahead and use the phone for anything you may need—slipping out of the chair, you slide across the floor in your socks and pluck it off the receiver, cradling it between your clavicle and ear. 

“Bradshaw house,” you sing into the line. Bradley is pushing himself out from the table, scrambling out of the booster to race up the stairs, shrieking for his stuffed animal dog that you have since learned is named Bongo. Covering the receiver, you call for Bradley to please come back downstairs before returning to the call, “How can I help?” 

“Sounds like you’re having fun, sweetheart.” 

Heart slamming to an all-stop in your chest, you inhale a sharp breath. A surprised squeaks managed past your strangled vocal chords, and heat jumping into your blood is immediate.

Replaying his words through your mind, you imagine him leaning through the doorway of the barracks, phone in hand, dragging the cord along as he talks to you. 

Tom Kazanksy has always been a pacer when it comes to talking on the phone. It’s something you learned from Nick himself, who has told you numerous times that Iceman can’t keep it together when he’s on a call. Especially with you.

Goose was practically ass-over-tea kettle about this, Ice glaring at him behind his aviators as you’d given him a goofy grin, picturing the idea as nothing short of hilarious. 

The man as cold as ice, tethered by a phone cord every time he picked up the receiver. It was laughable. Actually hilarious. Ice was many things—poised, cool, calculative in ways that were nearly frightening. He seemed far too collected to be the kind that walks when he’s on the phone—that’s your thing.

Fidgeting is a quirk of yours that simultaneously amuses and drives Ice up the wall, which seems counterproductive. 

But like many things about Iceman Kazansky, there’s a lot that doesn’t make sense. 

Keeping you on your toes is just one of the many things that makes your relationship with Kazansky interesting. He’s the ying to your yang, the cool to your hot. You’re wound tighter than a frickin’ Rolex, and Tom is as smooth as butter in every way that counts.

He’s excelling in his career, making the right decisions, drawing the right attention—and you’re stalled out working at the local garage, tinkering on whatever junk manages to hit the pavement. 

Quiet and reserved, Ice is the epitome of charm and elegance. You’re basically the wild card in life’s chaotic game of Uno, forever handing your boyfriend a draw 25 of every crazy thing your life may hand him.

Honestly, how the two of you make it work is unbelievable—you’ve been dating for eight months. You were sure any day Ice would wake up from the hellish nightmare that is your crazy life and leave you, but he'd only seemed locked in for good. 

Fairly certain that meeting your parents in NOLA would be the straw that broke the camel’s back, you were dead surprised when Ice had told you he actually loved your family. Your father had done nothing but interrogate the man like a dog with a bone about his career, his plans—all the kills his fancy rank boasted.

And mama? Oh, boy. She’d fussed over him to no end, insisting his skinny ass needed plumped up before your return at Christmas. 

“What are they feeding him in California, sweetie? Look at that waist! I could snap him in two. Make sure you feed ‘im good—the way to a man’s heart is through his gut, after all.” 

Your mother didn’t understand that you didn’t live together, weren’t cooking for Ice, and could take no responsibility for his eating habits. She’d just pooh-pooh’d your entire protest away, promising to send you both home with grocery money and a few recipes for your box.

You’d stuck them to the fridge with a magnet, Ice just chuckling at your mumble that your parents were the most embarrassing life-givers on the entire planet. 

Arms snaked around your wrist, chin on your shoulder, he’d rocked you back and forth on his feet while smiling at the recipes now stuck on the front of your Frigidaire.

“I like your parents, my love. They’re….sweet?” The word was so foreign from him, it had made you snort. 

“Overbearing and nosy, but thanks for playing,” you’d shook your head and lazily hung your hands from his thick forearms crossing over your chest, “I can’t wait to meet your folks, Ice. Your mom seems so amazing.” 

“You’re talking to my mom?” 

Laughing, “Of course I am! You gave me their number, silly.” 

“I gave you my parents’ number for when I’m there, princess. I didn’t expect you to cultivate a relationship with Admiral Kazanksy’s wife.” Pressing a heavy kiss to your jaw, the blonde stubble on his cheek was divine as it brushed against the apple of yours. 

Giggling in his embrace, your nose scrunches up as you let your head fall back against his shoulder. “Careful there, Tommy. Mrs. Admiral Kazansky kinda has a nice ring to it.” 

His eyes had never sparkled so richly as they had that day in your kitchen, catching the insinuation you’d thrown in your little universe. Ice is everything you are not in the way that he is as unreadable as a blank page, whereas you’re easy reading, like phonebook. It goes with his graceful stoicism, his quiet demeanor. 

Which is maybe why the two of you work. He balances you out, reigns you in when necessary but loves your unbridled fire. You add color to the otherwise black-and-white pages of Tom Kazanksy’s mission dossier of life, and while you haven’t exactly figured out if that’s a plus or not—Goose, Mav, Slider and everyone else that knows him assures you that you’re the best thing that’s ever stumbled, literally, into Kazanksy’s universe. 

You smile at the muffle of voices hanging at the back of the call. Tom is obviously not alone, which amuses you to no end.

“Oh yeah, y’know how it goes, Kazansky—couldn’t be better. Goose’s kid is just the best child a babysitter could ever ask for.” The drama is not lost in your voice. 

Tom barks out a laugh, and you imagine he’s shaking his head at you. “I can imagine. Bradley is a little shit when he wants to be.” He says something to someone beyond the call before returning to the phone, “So, about tomorrow. I wanted to ask you—”

Curling the phone cord around your index finger, you check over your shoulder as a shriek erupts from the hallway. Whipping about, Bradley shoots down the stairs, suddenly naked from the waist down and missing the overalls his mother had dressed him in that morning.

Eyes popping wide, he is screaming with a Superman action figure and his father’s dog tags hanging from his neck, face twisted in a horror that you’ve only ever seen portrayed on television. 

Somehow, Bradley’s hair and shirt is wet. Which can only mean—

“Oh my gosh! Bradley! Bradley, come back—” dropping the phone and lunging for the toddler, you half remember your boyfriend is on the other end of the call, and right as Bradley races into the kitchen you grab the receiver. Scrambling to right the phone back to your ear, “Ice, I really have–” but he’s laughing. At you.

“This isn’t funny, Tom!” 

“It’s fucking hilarious, baby,” his voice is that smooth rasp that makes you shiver as he clucks a chuckle into the phone, “but hold tight. I’ll be over there in fifteen minutes,” he’s calling for someone to tell him the time before he returns. “Think you can keep the gosling alive long enough for me to get there?” 

Your eyes are shooting daggers at the wall as you sneer at nothing. “I hate you sometimes,” 

Hissing out a noise that sounds like it would be paired with a wince, his mocking, “Ouch, princess,” doesn’t match the lilt in the back of his words. “Don’t burn down the house, I’ll be right there. Hang tight, grease monkey.” He’s been calling you grease monkey since knowing you, and it’s become more of a pet name than anything. 

Unraveling, grateful help is imminent, you’re too stubborn to tell him that. Ice is good at everything, and something about watching Goose’s offspring niggles the thought that you want to be better at this than him in the back of your head. Biting the inside of your cheek, you hum suspiciously over the phone. 

 “Just get over here, Kazansky.” Dropping the phone to the receiver, you turn to rush into the living space in search of Bradley. 

You swear to God you can hear him laughing behind the door fifteen minutes later when he knocks, letting himself into the kitchen from the screen door.

Sunglasses on, dressed informally in a t-shirt and tight Wranglers, he’s got a baseball glove under his arm that he drops to the table when Bradley races to the front door, arms splayed wide upon sight. 

“Iceman!” Bradley launches himself at Ice’s legs, wrapping chunky little arms around the man’s thighs, “I didn’t know you were coming!”

He’s bouncing as Ice bends to lift him under his arms to his hip, messing the kid’s hair with his fingers.

“You gonna play ball with me, Ice?” 

Ice’s smile is genuine as the kid pops off his callsign, no sweat. “You know it, kiddo. Gotta get my favorite shortstop ready for the Phillies, right?”

Bradley’s face couldn’t be any brighter as you lean against the threshold of the living room, arms crossed over your chest as you watch Ice interact with Goose’s son.

“How have you been, Bradley?” 

“Gooooood,” the boy giggles and draws out the double-o of the word like children do, breaking off into another giggle as Ice wiggles his fingers into his soft stomach, “can we go play?” 

“Yeah, bud. Go grab your mit and we’ll toss a few,” setting Bradley to his feet, he sends the boy off with a light swat to his rear, Bradley beelining past you to whip up the stairs. He's chanting Ice’s name with childlike joy nearly bubbling out of him. 

Ice considers the state of the sandwich you still haven’t cleaned up off the floor before looking to you with a raised brow. The corner of his mouth ticks up into a light smirk as he slips the aviators off, hanging them from the collar of his t-shirt as his eyes move about the living space, easily.

You can see he’s calculating, and something shoots down your spine to ricochet off your uterus. 

Good god he’s handsome. Sexy as all get out with close-cropped blonde hair, eyes bright enough to melt steel. He can level you with nothing but a smile, make you forget your name the way he kisses you. You might as well be dead when he says your name.

Thinking through all the times he's called you his, wondering if you’ll ever get tired of it, heat in your blood blossoms to your face. You suddenly warmer than you thought possible in the A/C of Goose’s house. 

Crossing the kitchen in a few long strides, he reaches for you. Hand sliding home at your hip as you smile at him, he bridges the daylight hanging between you and shuffles your hips flush with his. Smiling at you crookedly, his eyes track yours. Reaching for a curl that’s fallen from your clip, he tucks it behind your ear. 

“Help has arrived, princess,” he teases you, low. “Holding up okay?” His voice is quiet, smoky. Dangerous.

Every one of his words hits you right in that little spot between your legs, which has not stopped aching since you laid eyes on this man eight months ago. 

“Thanks for coming over,” you coo, lips parting into a little smile. “I’m alright, just tired. Should’ve known I’d need my wingman–you should’ve been here for lunch,” nodding past his shoulder to the mess still living beside Bradley’s booster, your bottom lip rolls inward sheepishly. “Peter Pan and Smuckers crashed and burned.” Your nose scrunches up, teasingly. “I needed reinforcements.” 

He snorts a little, brow lifted knowingly. “So I gathered.” 

“You’re such a jerk,” you try not to chuckle, but that look he’s giving you makes it impossible. 

He shrugs, flippantly. “Yeah, but you like that kind of thing,“ fingers skipping down the full curve of your cheek, they anchor at your chin and tip you head back just so. “I’m here now, love.” 

Somehow your eyes just know to drop to half mast as your heart kicks up a few beats against your ribs. His head angles in that kissable way, and before you can even remember to breathe, his mouth brushes against yours tentatively, seeking out a kiss. Grabbing the front of his shirt, fingers fisting into the material, you edge him a little closer until he seals the deal, kissing you long and hard and slow. 

His other thick hand is moving to rest at the curve of your neck and shoulder, thumb delicately brushing against the column of your throat as he moans a little into your mouth. Gasping a little, you suck at his bottom lip, tongue carefully slipping between his teeth to lathe a little against his own. Suddenly the room is spinning as he’s bracing an arm against the threshold of the kitchen, backing you against the sheetrock as his hand moves to cup the curve of your cheek. 

“Ice,” you whine between his mouth moving against yours. Every nerve is on fire, and you can suddenly taste and feel nothing but his heat as it crashes against your chest. “I—” 

“Mmm,” his fingers curl into the flesh of your hip, harder if possible, and he presses his weight forward with his hips, against yours, pinning you against the sheetrock even farther. “It’s okay,” he enunciates with rough exhale, “Bradley is fine—” 

Knees basically gelatin and as if on cue,  you hear Bradley’s little feet upstairs. He’s talking to Tom the T-rex, looking for his glove before he cries for you to come upstairs. It’s painful, brushing Tom’s hand away from where it’s tracing the soft skin beneath your navel under your shirt, but you have to. 

Groaning in irritation before breaking your kiss with Tom, your gaze moves to the ceiling. Tom’s eyes do as well, and he sighs a little in defeat before putting his hands up, stepping back to allow you to slide away, towards the stairs. 

“I’m coming, Bradley,” you call up the stairs, your voice not nearly as strong as you’d like it to be. “I’m sorry, baby, I—” His smile is slow as he nods in understanding, and he smooths his hand over his mouth, you not missing the flush on his face. 

You rake your hair back as you’re about to take the stairs two at a time, but you stop when Ice’s big hand wraps around your wrist, stopping you. Looking to his hand briefly, your eyes track up to find him, your face painted with the silent question of “What’s wrong?” that you don’t even need to ask.

“You know I love you, right?” 

Heart skyrocketing into the back of your throat before it melts back between your ribs, the corner of your mouth lifts in a soft smile as you shrug a shoulder. Winking at him, you step forward onto the stairs, hand falling from his grasp as Ice moves to track you up the stairs. Over your shoulder, you smile at him and nod—you absolutely know you’re in love with Tom Kazanksy, it isn’t even a question. 

“And I think I might be in some kind of love with you too, Kazansky. Maybe just a little.” Your fingers pinch to indicate a little amount,  nose scrunched up in that way you always do that makes him roll his eyes and shake his head. You round the corner of the open staircase, but backtrack a few steps to peek around the corner. 

“But in case you forget, Iceman—I love you too.” 

[daughterofthereaper02]

Purity

Pairings: Hangman x Rooster x Bob x reader

Requested: Hi love! ( Idk I'm allowed to call people that but it's a habit😅)I just wanted to say I absolutely love your work! And I had an amazing idea (or at least I think it is) if it's not to much trouble.Poly Bob x Rooster X Hangman X reader where Rooster suddenly introduced Iceman and Maverick as his parents and the rest of class 86 ( sundown, chipper, slider, wolfman and Hollywood) as his uncles.Suddenly Maverick isn't the chaotic/fun/chill captain anymore but he's all 'so you three think you're good enough to date my son huh'.Then IceMav let the 86 class do some very intimidating and threatening shovel talk and first reader is like 'oh shit' but then she remembers the stories Rooster told them about how sweet and chaotic they are (probably causing chaos with Maverick) and reader starts to respond dryly and sarcastically (totally matching class 86' vibe) and they're like 'yeah she's part of the family now, even if it doesn't work out with Rooster, we're adopting you now' and Bob and Hangman are complete horrified because they are higher ranking officers and Rooster is just laughing his ass off.

A/N: I am going to keep Sundown and Chipper out because I don’t know much about them. Also please like and reblog! I hate to say it but many of us writers don’t want to write anymore because we have no interaction. It feeds the authors.

Warning: Mentions of pregnancy, humor regarding males that were also males at birth not being able to be pregnant.

Don't like it, don't read please

You stood at the door of the Kazanksy-Mitchell household. “Guys, I promise you it will be fine,” Bradley chuckled, “Its only supposed to be Iceman and Maverick today,” He continued. You looked at him suspiciously, “Then why are there multiple vehicles here Bradley?” You asked, face deadpanned. “I said supposed to, doesn’t mean it is,” he said with a nervous chuckle. He truthfully did not know that his 'uncles' we're supposed to be there as well. Despite being in his thirties, they always have and always will be protective over 'baby goose'.

Just as Bob and Jake went to comment, the door open and there stood Iceman, Maverick, Slider, Hollywood, and Wolfman. “Bradley!” Maverick exclaimed with a big grin, pulling him into a hug before a more serious look took over his face when looking at Jake, Robert, and you, “Lts. Seresin, Floyd, L/n,” He acknowledged with a nod. Gone was the fun loving captain you all saw every day at training, in his place was a protective father figure. “Captain Mitchell,” You said politely, “Admiral Kazansky,” You continued before acknowledging the rest by their proper ranks. They were truthfully impressed that you had taken the time to memorize that without them being in uniform, you had never personally met them before. It also show you actually listened to Bradley when he told you things because they gave him no time to prepare you all for the meeting with them.

“Please, come in,” Iceman said, his whole body stiff as you four entered the house. You all entered the house, backs straight, and heads raised, showing no fear. You all were falling into a military mindset as you began to go to the dinner table after being instructed. It was going to be like you were in the academy again, you had to show no weakness while also being respectful.

You all sat down, tension filling the air that was so thick you could cut it with a knife. At first it was silent, all of you complimenting the food but you three knew better then to speak. When the group wanted to start the conversation, they would.

Maverick suddenly straightened up, “So, you three think you’re good enough to date Rooster, huh?” he asked, looking directly at you three. “Sir-” Robert started but Maverick held up his hand, “We all have a few questions for you and your intentions with him,” Slider said, jaw tight.

Right then and there, you knew exactly what they were doing. It was like a bad romcom, ‘Are you planning to take her purity?’, and in this case, it was Bradley.

"Please, ask away Admiral Kerner," You said easily, a smile falling onto your face. They wanted to play games? You would play back. These men needed to know you could hold your own and for Rooster as well. You also recalled they had a sense of humor and would appreciate that. While you would be extremely respectful towards them, you also had to crack jokes and be yourself, if you couldn't with his most trusted family then you weren't really in it for the long run.

"Let's begin then," Wolfman said, leaning forward arms just resting on the table but not his elbows to show manners still. "Your plans for the future with baby Goose?" He asked. "Well sir, we plan a very long future with him," Jake said, clearing his throat. Anyone you see the twitch in his jaw from his nerves, you also could see Bob shifting as they tried to watch their words.

"Marriage? Kids?" Hollywood pushed, wanting more of an answer from you three. "Well sir, we will all probably get hitched in Vegas," you said dryly, "Elvis officiating the wedding of course," you continued straight faced. Robert stomped on your foot, "Y/n!" He hissed before glancing at the Admirals to apologize for your behavior but stopped short as he saw the reactions. Iceman let out a snort, the others lips were twitching as they tried to not laugh, recalling Goose saying about some of them getting married in Vegas.

"And the children?" Mav asked, trying to not laugh. "Well there is the natural way but I don't think they have the parts to carry," you joked with a shrug, waving your hand to your boyfriends who were very much born male. "But if we were maybe one or two but I don't pressure," you said, tone light and a grin on your face.

They were starting to relax with you, leaning back in their seats. "And your overall intentions?" Iceman asked. "Well sir," you said, folding your hands respectfully, "I have no intention of stealing your son's purity if that is what you're worried about," you grinned, leaving it in the air with the silent 'Though he doesn't have any', "But my intention is to keep him for a very long time. Although I won't be making him into a pretty little housewife," you smirked.

That set them off rolling as Rooster flushed in embarrassment. "Okay okay, we can't break gentlemen!" Hollywood chuckled. "So," he started turning the attention to your other boyfriends.

The rest of the night you continued with joking responses while also showing that you deeply loved Bradley and intended to give him the world. The entire time, Bradley was laughing hysterically as you responded with quick comebacks and humor, you were a little spitfire apparently.

The whole time, Jake and Robert resembled fish and ghosts at the same time. These were Admirals of all high ranking! Not only could they convince Bradley to break up with you three, but they could also make their lives extremely miserable within the military. It honestly freaked them out even more when they all responded positively to your humor.

It was later that night, you were sitting and joking with Hollywood and Wolfman about a ‘hard on’ comment they made back in Top Gun. Slider and Iceman approached Bradley, placing their hands on his shoulders. “We like her definitely,” Iceman grinned, “She is part of this family now even if you break up with her,” Slider chuckled. You turned your head towards them as they called your name, “Y/n, you have officially been adopted by the class of 86!” He continued with a laugh. “Robert, Jake, lighten up. We aren’t that scary... we just needed to test you,” Iceman smiled.

They spent the time getting Jake and Robert to relax, watching as you four interacted the whole night. They knew baby goose found his people.

[make-me-imagine]

Top Gun Christmas Scenario Game

(Link to Scenario Games Masterlist)

Rules/What you do: Just match the month/day/letter to yourself and you got yourself a cute little scenario to imagine lol. Let me know in the comments or reblogs what you get~

A/N: I also take these scenarios as writing requests as well (only when requests are open obviously- and it depends on the character). Also, there are only like 4 female characters in these movies, so I just put them in randomly lol.

*words in (parentheses) are alternate options/additions.

-

Your Birth Month:

You And...

January: Tom ' Iceman' Kazansky -or- Penny Benjamin

February: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw

March: Beau 'Cyclone' Simpson

April: Nick 'Goose' Bradshaw -or- Natasha 'Phoenix' Trace

May: Robert 'Bob' Floyd

June: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin

July: Ron ‘Slider’ Kerner -or- Callie 'Halo' Basset

August: Reuben 'Payback’ Fitch

September: Javy 'Coyote' Machado -or- Charlie Blackwood

October: Mickey 'Fanboy' Garcia

November: Your Choice

December: Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell

----

Your Date of Birth:

1: Go sledding. 2: Have a snowball fight. 3: Go to a Christmas festival. 4: End up as each others secret Santa. 5: Decorate the Christmas tree. 6: Build a snowman together. 7: Make each other Christmas sweaters. 8: Build Gingerbread houses together. 9: Go skiing. 10: Make snow angels. 11: Bake Christmas cookies. 12: Go to a Christmas tree farm. 13: Are reunited for Christmas. 14: Decorate the house together. 15: Go on a Christmas date. 16: Visit a Christmas market. 17: Go ice-skating. 18: Have a Christmas movie marathon. 19: Kiss under the mistletoe. 20: Go to a Christmas party. 21: Exchange gifts. 22: Travel to a new city/country Christmas. 23: Go view Christmas lights 24: Take cheesy Christmas photos together. 25: Walk through a snowy park together. 26: Cook Christmas dinner together. 27: Surprise each other with handmade gifts. 28: Go to a Christmas parade. 29: Make your own stockings. 30: Host a Christmas party. 31: Go on a Christmas themed treasure hunt.

---

First Letter of Your Name/Username (Bonus)

And...

A-G: They propose to you (or ask you to be their s/o)

H-N: It is your first Christmas together.

O-T: It is your first date.

U-Z: You have your first kiss.

xx

*words in (parentheses) are alternate options/additions.

A/N: I apologize if your combo/match up does not make sense, it is hard to make sure that every single combination does.  *Please consider reblogging or tagging your friends/mutuals to share this around!

General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @imaginesfire, @onuen, @witchygagirl, @alexxavicry

Top Gun Taglist: @malindacath, @hotch-meeeeeuppppp, @sarcastic-sourwolf, @stargirl-05, @persephonesportal, @springflwer07, @pockyandme, @iceman-kazanksy, @soultrysworld, @averyhotchner, @linkxneptune, @creativitybeware, @callsignmaverick5, @phoenix1389,

[blackcat2907]

The Adventures of Y/N Mitchell: A Guide

In which I, a diabetic, write about @daughterofthereaper02 's stories of the Diabetic Y/N Mitchell series.

Fair Warning: All of the events mentioned here personally happened to me. All names mentioned aren't the people's real names. They are just names I chose.

This is my first ever attempt at writing a X reader, so I hope this is good.

1.) Takes place after Maverick (Ice is alive because I said so) (fun fact: this happened to me not even three hours ago, yeah, what an experience)

You plopped down on the couch, sweating up a storm. Over the past week, the heat had been brutal, and you hated it. Your AC has broken and you were stuck with all the house fans you could get your hands on. Nothing seemed to cool you down. Thankfully, Penny and Amelia had taken you and your father, Pete Mitchell or Maverick, out on their sailboat. You enjoyed swimming in the cold ocean, finally being able to cool off.

Finally getting comfortable, you picked up your phone and scrolled through your missed messages. Bradley wanted to know how you were doing, and so did pretty much everyone else. You sent a 'I'm good and alive' to the Dagger Squad group chat and left it alone. You picked up your CGM monitor and checked your blood, wincing at the 97 that popped up on screen.

"Crap," you mumbled, getting up and quickly going to the fridge. You had planned to go shopping the next day, so you were low on a few things. More specifically, you were low on juice and sugary sweets. You grabbed and downed the rest of the sparkling apple cider you had, which you absolutely hated. Next, you grabbed a cheese stick, and some chicken leftovers.

Settling back on your couch, you waited the recommended fifteen minutes and checked again. This time, you started to panic. Your minister read 62 and you knew you were going down fast. Scrambling for your phone, you called Bob who you had a speed dial. He didn't answer. You called Coyote next.

"Hey, Y/N, what's up?" Coyote asked, answering the phone.

"I am so sorry to be a bother, but are you still at your place?" You asked hurriedly.

"Yeah, I was just about to leave, but yeah, why?" Coyote started to sound concerned.

"Do you have any juice or sugar I could have?" You asked, putting on your sneakers, not bothering to put on any socks.

"Yeah, I do. Do you need some?" Coyote had gotten out of his car and back inside his house.

"I do," you replied. "I'll be right there." You hung up and full on sprinted to Coyote's house. Everything in your mind screamed at you to stop running and that running was a bad idea, but you ignored it.

"Y/N! I have stuff here for you," Coyote said, shoving a trash bag with orang juice, pineapple juice, and multiple soda cans. He handed you a can of cola. "Are you okay?

"Thank you," you panted. "I'm 62, but with this, I'll be good. I am so sorry for bothering you." You gulped down the can.

"It's never a bother," Coyote promised. "I can walk you back if you need me to." He looked at you with concern.

You shook your head. "No, go. I'll be fine." Narrowing your eyes, you pushed him toward the door. "I'll be fine. It's close by. Go do what you were going to do."

Reluctantly, he let you go back home. This time, you walked, sipping your cola. You hated times like these where you were low but the usual shakiness didn't happen. Once back at your house, you set the bag on the chair and jumped when you saw your father with Admiral Kazanksy.

"Y/N, what's that?" Your father asked you, making you mentally curse.

"Just some juice from Coyote," you admitted. "I was 62, so I ran to his place to get some juice. I ran out last night." You didn't realize you were over explaining until you saw Ice nod. You finished your cola and took deep, shaky breaths.

"You whAT?" Maverick yelled, rushing up to you. "You ran to Coyote's? Do you realize how dangerous that was?" He looked you over, checking to make sure you were okay.

"I'm fine, Dad. Give me a few minutes." She, with help from your father, got to the couch and sat on it, awkwardly looking from Ice to Mav. Not knowing what to say, you kept quiet as your father berated you for running to Coyote's. You knew it was a bad idea, but you panicked.

"You're lucky you didn't pass out!" He finished, staring at you.

"I know. I panicked. I'm sorry. It won't happen again," you replied.

"I just wanr you to be safe," Maverick sighed, hugging you. "How about we watch a movie?"

"Toothless?" You asked, grinning and feeling better.

"Toothless."

2.) Take place before Maverick and Reader is in sixth grade

You were sitting in the Principal's office, staring at the floor, swinging your legs. Tears brimmed your eyes and you wanted nothing more than to curl up and disappear. It wasn't your fault. You didn't mean it.

"You have been causing a lot of problems, Y/N," the Principal sighed. "You keep showing up late to classes, which we understand you have to, but you can't keep skipping half of your class periods."

"It's not my fault!" you yelled, trying not to choke up. She glared at the Principal. She was a nice lady, but she just didn't understand. "Elijah..." you stopped yourself, knowing you said too much.

"Elijah what?" The principal asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Principal Grant? Y/N's father couldn't make it, so he sent his co-workers," Secretary Caminetti said, poking her head in through the door.

"Send them in." You looked up to see your Uncle Ice and Uncle Slider. You tried to smile, but it ended up being a grimace. Part of you was happy it wasn't your father, but they weren't much better.

"I'm Tom Kazansky and this is Ron Kerner. Pete sent us," Tom introduced himself. "What seems to be the problem?"

"Y/N has been skipping classes," Principal Grant sighed, sending you a condescending look.

"No, I haven't!" you yelled, your voice cracking.

"Okay, okay, what's wrong, Y/N?" Slider spoke up before things got out of hand. "You can tell us. We won't be mad." Slider glared at the principal and Ice.

You stared at Slider and sighed, wiping your eyes. "Elijah keeps hiding my stuff," you whispered, more tears forming. "He takes my diabetes stuff and hides it so I have to look for it. He hid my insulin in his backpack and put my test kit in Caleb's locker." You broke down crying. "So, I look for it because I know I can't lose that stuff. I..."

Slider's fists clenched and Ice's eye twitched. Taking a deep breath, Slider hugged you. "It's okay, Y/N. Do you have your stuff now?" You nodded. "Good. Uncle Ice is going to talk to Ms. Grant, then we are going to get some ice cream, okay?"

"Okay," you nodded, picking up your purple backpack. Slider brought you out to the car and soon after, Ice got in. He looked back at you and smiled. "Elijah won't be bothering you anymore."

"Promise?" You sniffled.

"I promise."

3.) Takes place before Maverick and Reader is in ninth grade

You hated your homeroom teacher with ever bone in your body. You hated them so much. They were too nosy with you. Everytime you checked your blood, they made you tell them with the whole class around. When you were too high, you would get scolded and when too low, it would be worse. You'd get in trouble for being low with the reasoning you should've checked more often. Either way, you hated being around them.

During lunch, another teacher has come in and gave you and your class Twinkies as a reward for helping her with her younger classes. You happily accepted it, but before you could even take a bite your homeroom teacher snatched it and through it away.

"You shouldn't be eating that. It has too much sugar in it," they scolded you, making you extremely angry. You tried to protest, but thought against it. It wasn't worth it.

Later that year, you could choose what your yearly research paper would be. You, wanting to spite some people, chose Type 1 Diabetes as your topic. You had fun researching and writing it up. Mav did the best he could to help and you appreciated every minute.

You were sick the day the paper was due so you automatically had points taken off, but you didn't care. With pride, you brought multiple copies of you paper and handed a copy to the people who scrutinized you the most. Did you get into trouble? Yes, but to you, it was worth it. It was very much worth it.

Nobody got to tell you what you could or couldn't do. You weren't crippled because you were a diabetic. You could do anything you put your mind to. Even if you had to work harder to get where you wanted, you did it. You were in control of your life, and you weren't about to let anyone tell you other wise. Being diabetic is both a gift and a curse, and you were determined to make sure it didn't control you. It didn't control you; you controlled it. And that? That to you was the best feeling in the world.

Tag List:

@daughterofthereaper02

@hiraganasakura

@your-skeletons-extended-warrenty

@d4r32bstup1d

@dxmerons

@peaceful-meme-goblin

All Reblogs, comments, and notes are appreciated! I hope you all enjoyed this. To be honest, writing this was really fun. I may start to write more X readers, but I'm not entirely sure yet.

Have a wonderful day!

[scarebats]

sad jew trans gay ice is real

[scarebats]

WIP Wednesday

Full Cups  - Icemav

i’m sorry this took so long!! i was suppose to edit this yesterday but i was busy (starting to rewatch suits again). also there’s a bit of NSFW at the end, but nothing graphic.

“You’re so hung over.”

“Shut up. I’m well enough to remember some stuff, at least,” Ice says with a smirk replacing his scowl.

“Hm. Like what?” Maverick challenges him with an eyebrow raised.

“A few things about some high school hookups from ‘Wood and Slider. But I already knew about all of Slider’s, anyway. Wolf’s story of his first time getting drunk. Some drunk Slider thoughts…” Ice lists off, looking up in thought.

A pink flush slowly blooms on the tips of Maverick’s ears and spreads to his cheeks.

“You know, I only really remember one of those ‘drunk Slider thoughts,’” Ice concludes, now making eye contact with Maverick’s green unsure ones.

“And… which one would that be?” Maverick asks hesitantly, his eyes dragging down to study his basketball shorts and to save himself at least a little embarrassment.

“I don’t know. Something about lingerie, maybe. Would you mind to, perhaps, jog my memory, Mav?” Ice suggests, a smug face covered by pretend confusion and thought.

“Uhm. I don’t actually… remember,” Maverick pauses. “Any of Slider’s, ‘drunk thoughts.’” He finishes, swallowing anxiously.

“Hm. That’s a shame. I would’ve loved to hear you talk about wearing a bra.” Ice leans in closer, his lips brushing against Maverick’s ear. “The way it would cup your tits together, so pretty. You could be my wife, baby,” Ice whispers, his breath dampening Maverick’s ear ever so slightly.

“Ice,” Maverick’s whines lightly, rubbing his palms over his shorts, no doubt that they’re sweaty.

[scarebats]

WIP Wednesday

Full Cups - icemav

sorry that this is being posted so late!! i was at a track meet for the whole day😭 anyways, no smut yet, but it’s getting there! i promise you all that this fic will be out soon.

Maverick is seemingly clueless to Ice’s struggles, which is a good thing when in public and anyone can see, but it’s also frustrating when they’re in the comfort of their own house. Really, Ice doesn’t conceal himself around Mav, he wants him to know what he’s dying to get a glimpse of. Just one peek, maybe a picture. That’s all Ice is asking for if Maverick doesn’t feel comfortable enough.

They’re both sitting on the couch watching whatever rerun is on the TV. Ice couldn’t care less; he’s about to let sleep take him into its arms.

“You know,” Maverick starts out of the blue, “I wore a bra when I was in college, maybe at a high school that I went to, as well.” He speaks like he’s talking to himself, but only aloud because he knows that Ice can hear him.

Ice swallows, that random comment brought him out of the welcoming slumber. “…What?”

“I was just thinking. At first I thought that wearing something for a woman was foreign to me, but then I thought about it some more. I went to a party in college, I know that, and the rest comes in bits and pieces. There was my friend, Dallas, and probably some other buddies that I hung around. Yeah. We drank a lot, and there were some dares, I believe. Really, I remember having a girl on me, her bra wasn’t on her, it was on me. Solid red with some lace designs on the back strap and the cups. It fit me well actually, I was around the same size then, since that was, what? Five years ago, I think.”

The whole story, Ice listens to with his mouth agape. Like it’s something that he’s heard while eavesdropping on his parents. But this isn’t a discussion where he is the child that is being sent away, no. Now he’s the one that understands, the one that gets all of the details placed in front of him. And boy, Ice never thought he would love that power more.

(the smut will probably be soon after this part. hopefully)

[scarebats]

WIP Wednesday

Across Your Shoulders and Chest - Icemav (chapter 2)

i have only written the pre-smut since i posted chapter 1, but possessive ice is still here! kinda NSFW at the end

Maverick is dropped down onto the soft blankets with a quiet thud. Still processing the events of earlier, he doesn’t necessarily comprehend Ice crawling between his legs. A shaky breath is let out as Ice makes his way higher and takes his starting place on the lips of the shorter.

He can’t really return the kiss that’s too eager to stay for long. Breaths too unstable and Ice licking his way to the edge of his jaw. Ice takes note of Maverick’s overwhelmed state and lifts his head. “You alright, baby?”

Swallowing, Maverick nods shallowly. Not buying the confirmation, Ice fully lifts himself to hover above Maverick, his arms bracketing Maverick’s head. “You have to be vocal for me, hon. I don’t want to do something you don’t like.”

“I’m— I’m fine, Ice. You can keep going,” Maverick manages out, little sighs in between some words.

“If you say so. But I’m stopping the second you feel uncomfortable with something.” Ice’s tone has no room for argument, so Mav has no option but to agree.

“Okay.”

Now Ice resumes his activities, ones that would’ve either already happened or be happening if it were not for Slider. He stakes his claim on Maverick as he works his way back down to his beautiful ass. Slowly, Ice traces his hands down Maverick’s stomach and comes to a stop at the waist of his shorts, folding his shirt up in the process.

Maverick shivers as Ice leaves wet marks along his neck, stretching the neckline of the shirt to reveal his smooth skin that’s perfect for biting. Maybe he could revisit the biting after he gets his tongue inside of Maverick. It’s been torture for the past twenty minutes, every passing second like agony.

A sudden idea comes to mind. “Baby? Could you flip onto your front for me?”

“Why?” Maverick still obliges despite his confusion.

“‘Wanna be able to see my name on your back while I ravage you.” Maverick lets out a choked groan at the abruptness of the statement.

(i hope y’all are excited for chapter 2!! i am also refraining myself from writing anymore chipmav until i have at least 2 fics posted)

[scarebats]

sad mav time

[scarebats]

WIP Wednesday

In The Car? (I Just Can’t Wait) - icemav

I’M SO SORRY THIS IS TAKING SO LONG😭😭 I’M STILL VERY BUSY BUT I THOUGHT I WASNT GOING TO BE!!!! i’m still working on editing the other two before i post them, i hope y’all enjoy this!!

Ice’s face flushes as he gets backed up against the bar. He hits it with a soft groan, the other man’s eyes searching his and his pretty lips forming into a sly smirk. “You know, I once was a student that tried to get in the teacher’s pants…” Captain Mitchell starts, his green eyes flicking down every so often. Ice swallows and lets out a pleased shudder. “I ended up getting my way. I want to see if you’re able to get yours.”

Now their bodies are touching, Ice can feel Captain Mitchell’s leg slotting between his, slowly. He struggles to keep back a needy whine, he needs this dammit. Ice can’t even begin to remember the last time he got fucked so good that he could barely walk the next day. And sure, Ice hasn’t seen the whole package, but he’s good at guessing.

Captain Mitchell’s hand drags up his arm with feather-light touch. “Sir…” is all Ice manages to get out.

He smiles. “Just plan ahead, Lieutenant.” Then he’s walking away again, with one last glance downwards and a satisfied smirk. Sitting by Rooster, giving him the attention.

Jealousy sears through him, it almost boils over, then there’s a hand on his shoulder. “Dude— you, uh. You might want to go to the washroom or something…” Slider says quietly and uncomfortably.

“What? Why?”

“Look down, man.”

“Oh.”

(there isn’t that much, but spicy!!)

[scarebats]

WIP Wednesday

Full Cups - icemav

this one isn’t that long because my attention has been more on the top gun discord servers recently rather than writing💔 very sorry!

In Ice’s opinion, he very casually asks the question. “So… this is a hypothetical question, but, if Mav were a woman, what size of bra do you think he’d wear?”

Carole really gives him the wrong picture as answer to his question. “Oh, if he was a female, I think his boobs would be huge—”

“No. I mean…” Ice rubs the back of his neck and his cheeks flush in embarrassment. “like if he were to look exactly the same, but needed a bra, you know?” He smiles nervously at her, and he gets a raised eyebrows in return.

“Lookin’ to spice things up in the bedroom, are we, Kazansky?” She says with an amused expression and a smirk. Ice reluctantly nods and looks down at the kitchen floor. “I’ll leave you to find out for yourself.”

“What?”

~~

Now, Ice is in a lingerie store, hoping that it looks like he’s buying something for a girl. All of the pretty sets that surround him make his cheeks bloom pink. Ice strictly stares at the floor, only lifting his gaze to turn corners. Eventually, he finds the bras, and takes in the wide selection with a shock. There’s so many?

(still no smut guys but it’s getting there!!)

[scarebats]

WIP Wednesday

Pierce My Heart - slicemav

this one has no warnings and isn’t as exciting as the last one, sorry about that (but it’s longer!)

Standing before Ron now, is his customer. Someone who he thinks would look amazing with a tongue piercing, might he add.

He lets himself drag his eyes over the form of the stranger. He’s not very tall, shorter than himself and Tom, atleast. Straight cut jeans that are loose around his shins and calfs work their way up his legs and hug his thighs, Ron hopes that he can catch a glimpse of his ass at some point. Just to see how tight the denim really gets, of course.

His observation is cut short when Tom clears his throat and looks at him expectantly with wide eyes.

“Ron, this is Peter,” Tom introduces the man.

“I prefer Pete, if you don’t mind. Or Mav works, too,” Pete informs them while a bright grin appears on his face that reaches his green eyes.

“Mav? That doesn’t sound like Peter,” Ron asks while gesturing for Pete to sit on the chair.

Pete complies and answers. “Mav is short for Maverick. My friend and I are ex-Navy. His call sign is Goose, and I still call him that. So does his wife.” Tom makes his leave after Pete finishes his ramble, exiting with a warning look that Ron will most certainly tease him for later. Alas, he needs to properly meet this beauty first.

“Huh. Maverick. That sounds like people didn’t necessarily enjoy working with you.” Ron pauses. “No offense intended,” he finishes.

“Nah, it’s fine,” Pete glances down at his name tag. “Ron. I get it all the time. Mostly from Goose and Carole, actually. But I’m pretty sure that they like me.”

Ron nods along as Pete sends himself into another talking fit.

“I mean, I would hope that they can at least tolerate me, because I've known them for, what, like, eight years? I think? Well, I met Goose back in ‘82, and it’s ‘91… No, I’ve known him for nine years.” Honestly, Ron isn’t really listening, just admiring Pete. He talks so animatedly, gesturing his hands for emphasis, eyes wide and sparkling like a cartoon. Ron could watch him talk for hours, that being, he’s this ecstatic when story-telling.

“Then Carole, a little less than nine, I met her after our first deployment. Right at the end of ‘82, in November. And then little Bradley was born in June of ‘84! Can you believe that he’s already seven?” Ron has absolutely no idea who Bradley is.

“I have a picture of him in my wallet, want to see?” Pete barely takes any time to take a breath between sentences before he has his attention on Ron, a grin adorning his beautiful face that’s somehow even brighter and wider than before.

“Sure.”

Pete immediately reaches for his wallet in his front right pocket at the confirmation. Ron thinks it’s quite cute, how excited he is just to show him a picture of his friends’ kid.

(i should probably finish this soon cuz it’s the second time it’s been voted. i hope y’all liked this longer snippet!)

[scarebats]

WIP Wednesday

In The Car? (I Just Can’t Wait) - icemav

ice is really like 👀 at mav in this one and is full blown simp

Catching this stranger’s eye from the pool table, Ice excuses himself from the group. “Be right back…” he says, walking away and leaving the pool queue leaning against the table.

He hears a confused noise from behind him, then a, “Where are you going?” Ice doesn’t bother answering.

The man’s eyes are already casted elsewhere, Ice had only caught a few milliseconds before they were gone. His attention is on the lady behind the bar. Casually, like always, Ice leans up against the bar and orders a beer from the bartender, but that’s mainly just to send her away. He misses the amused glance he receives, looking at the man beside him instead. Eyes still haven’t been met, Ice watches him smile kindly and the bartender and give her a little wave.

Swallowing, Ice tries to start up a conversation. “What’s your name, handsome?” His head finally turns to look him in the eyes.

Those eyes, which Ice has now learned are a lovely green, take long strokes up and down his figure, then they’re met back in blue. Ice is used to people doing that, men and women, so why is he so self conscious about how he looks?

“Pete.” God, his voice is like honey. “What about you, plum?”

Ice is at a loss of words, for once. The question is simple but his voice, the way he says it, and plum? Ice never thought that he would like a pet name so much. Pete, now that Ice has a name for him, is looking at him expectantly, and also looks like he’s having a good time, just watching his brain fail him only by hearing his voice. He holds back a shiver physically running down his spine and forces out a word or two, it’s the least he could do.

“Ice. Tom.” A grin spreads over his lips, he watches those green eyes flick down briefly.

Pete mirrors his grin. “Well, Ice. You like to fly?”

Jesus, this has never happened before, why is this guy so… so hot? A deep breath is sucked in before he answers. “Naval aviator, I’m a pilot.” The beer is slid in front of him, but Ice deliberately ignores it in favour of talking to Pete.

An impressed expression shifts over Pete’s face. Ice inwardly shudders at the hinted approval he gets.

“What do you know! Me too,” Pete says with a smile and winks at him, Ice isn’t very sure on how the simple and tiny gesture makes him feel. All he knows is that he wants more of it.

“Really? You’re a pilot?”

“Now, I know I’m old, but you don’t need to say it like that,” Pete replies defensively with an eyebrow raised at him.

“No, no— wait, how old?” The question Ice can’t help but ask.

“Late fifties, fifty-eight.”

“Holy shit! You’re in your fifties!? But you’re so fucking hot!” Astonishment hits Ice like a bus. He can hear the bartender stifle a laugh at his very true comment. Pete stares back into his wide eyes, a steady flush covering his cheeks.

(the smut for this is fully planned out but has yet to be written😔 how does ice riding mav in his car sound?)

[scarebats]

WIP Wednesday

Teenage Drama - icemav

…

Tom glares at him then reluctantly moves his eyes to look at Peter, he looks just as beautiful as before, but his hair is messier and somehow fluffier this time around. He’s sitting a few tables away, what Tom presumes is homework is spread out over the table, but Peter’s reading a book off to the side of it. A faint grin slowly makes its way across his lips, watching Peter’s eyes flick over each line, his reactions to what surprises him or confuses him.

He blatantly stares at the boy in fascination. Thoughts that he manages to come across eventually wander away. Tom finds himself being stuck on what Peter could be thinking about. If it’s a certain person, a movie, maybe, but the blonde comes to the conclusion that he’s probably focused on his novel. At least that’s what common sense tells him.

Ron kicks him again after who knows how long of silent heart eyes across a mostly empty library, it’s a wonder how Peter didn’t notice Tom. Tom jerks his leg back harshly as he turns his head to look at Ron again. “Damn, Leonard wasn’t wrong.”

“Shut up.” Tom digs his heel into Ron’s foot and listens to Ron’s almost silent pain in satisfaction as he goes back to studying. They go back to their work, Ron feeling exasperated and done with his best friend, and Tom embarrassed with flushed cheeks. He steals glances at Peter every now and then for the rest of their study session.

i started writing this like in january and am finally getting around to finishing it. (title may change as the plot is still being figured out)

[scarebats]

this is finally finished after being one of my many wips for like a month!! the whole thing is split up into 2 chapters, but this one still includes smut, i promise!

Full Cups

Explicit

M/M

Tom “Iceman” Kazansky/Pete “Maverick” Mitchell

Sexual Content

Chapters: 1/2

Current Word Count: 2 361

A pink flush slowly blooms on the tips of Maverick’s ears and spreads to his cheeks.

“You know, I only really remember one of those ‘drunk Slider thoughts,’” Ice concludes, now making eye contact with Maverick’s green unsure ones.

“And… which one would that be?” Maverick asks hesitantly, his eyes dragging down to study his basketball shorts and to save himself at least a little embarrassment.

“I don’t know. Something about lingerie, maybe. Would you mind to, perhaps, jog my memory, Mav?” Ice suggests, a smug face covered by pretend confusion and thought.

“Uhm. I don’t actually… remember,” Maverick pauses. “Any of Slider’s, ‘drunk thoughts.’” He finishes, swallowing anxiously.

“Hm. That’s a shame. I would’ve loved to hear you talk about wearing a bra.”

or,

Slider gives Ice the thought of Maverick in a bra.