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witchwyfe · 8 months

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love me like you - tik

I pairing: college! Tom 'Iceman' Kazansky x female reader

I précis: You get drunk at a party and your lovely bf takes care of you!

I content/warnings: mentions of drinking/alcohol, mentions of being drunk, cigarette/smoking mention, college soccer player tom, college au

I word count: 1,093

I a/n: part of my college soccer ice series

Much to Ice’s chagrin, the team throws or attends a party after almost every game. If it’s a win, it’s to celebrate. If it’s a loss, it’s to commiserate. He doesn’t like drinking during soccer season, so he usually plays babysitter until everyone gets home. When you first asked Ice to go out with you, it was at a party, and you were endeared with the way he watched over the other boys and made sure they all stayed safe.

Now, you’re another person that Ice watches over at the party, especially if you’re drinking.

The other boys love when you tag along to parties, because it means they get to see the softer side of Ice that he doesn’t usually show to them. It’s even better when you’re drunk, because he’s extra lovey to you, and the guys eat it up.

You’re sprawled out on Ice’s lap while he lounges on the couch. Much to his dismay, there was a frat party so that is where he’s spending his Friday night, rather than relaxing with you.

His hand moves up and down your bare leg soothingly, distracting himself until you’re ready to leave. Your skin is warm under his palm, and he revels in the way you’ve gone limp in his lap, fully comfortable with—on—him. You’ve had about one seltzer too many, and Ice makes a mental note to grab you a bottle of water when you let him up.

Your finger traces his jawline up-and-down until you get bored with that and shift in his lap. “Icey,” You whisper, leaning forward like you’re going to share a secret.

He doesn’t even get a chance to answer before you’re placing your palms on either side of his face, squishing his cheeks, and forcing his lips to pucker. You press a sloppy kiss to his mouth, before releasing his face.

“What did you need, baby?” He hums, a fond expression taking over his features.

“Nothin’.” You mumble, suddenly shy. “Just wanted to kiss you.”

He laughs, warm and deep, running his hand over your back again. “Yeah?” He wonders. “You wanna do it again?”

You nod eagerly, falling even more into him when he presents his lips. They’re warm and gentle against your own, and you giggle into his mouth, hands curling into the hair at the nape of his neck.

“You’re so pretty,” You whisper when you pull away.

“I have to tell you something.” He says, mirroring your tone. “You’re even prettier.”

A delighted shriek leaves your lips and you squish him in a hug again.

One seltzer too many, turned into too many drinks entirely, in just a couple of short hours. You’d gone to the bathroom with one of your friends and came back drunker than you had been before, with a wasted Goose in tow, giggling at something you were whispering in his ear.

“Alright, I think you’ve both had enough.” Ice states, standing up briskly, and deftly slipping an arm around your side.

“You mean we’re leaving?” Goose whines, resting his head on Ice’s shoulder.

“Afraid so, bud.” Ice nods. He pulls his phone out to text his team—double checking that no one else needs a ride home—before corralling you and Goose to his car.

In anticipation of this happening, he’d parked as close to the run-down fraternity house as possible.

Ice man-handles Goose into the backseat so that he can focus fully on you. He’s bent at the waist, leaning over you to slide the seatbelt across your body. Once it’s clicked into place, he presses his lips to your temple, lingering for longer, before making his way to the driver’s seat.

He listens to you ramble on about a plethora of things, a fond smile on his face as he holds one of your hands in his.

When he pulls up to the house he shares with the other members of his soccer team, Mav is standing, propped up against the side of the house, smoking a drunk cigarette. Ice has no idea how Mav beat him home, considering he was in the middle of a keg stand when Ice left with you and Goose.

“Mav!” Goose is suddenly yelling, half of his body hanging outside the window that Ice didn’t even hear him open.

“Jesus, Goose, get back in the car!” Ice calls, using the driver door access to close the back window when Goose heaves his body back inside the car.

It’s a long journey from the car to the front door, especially with you leaning more than half of your body weight on your boyfriend, while Goose is tugging him by the hand, eager to get inside and eat a snack.

Slider is inside—and sober—and Ice breathes a sigh of relief. He would’ve liked to have been the one to stay home, but right now he’s just happy Slider can help take care of Goose and Mav, and he can worry about getting you up to bed.

“Long night?” Slider jokes, wrapping his hand around Goose’s bicep so he can lead him into the kitchen.

“C’mon Goosey, I’ve got pizza rolls for you and Mav.”

“Thanks Sli.” Ice smiles, nodding at his friend before focusing fully on you. Usually Ice loves his bedroom—the only one on the third floor of the old house—but right now he’s wishing it wasn’t so that it wouldn’t be as far for you to walk. You’ve got your arms wrapped around his torso now, head pressed into his chest.

“M’tired, Icey.” You whine. “Can we take an elevator?”

He chuckles into the top of your head. “We don’t have one, honey.” He shoves his phone into his back pocket, slings your purse into the bend of his arm, before crouching in front of you.

“Hop on, baby.”

“Really!?” You coo, with much more energy than you currently possess.

“Really.” He’s smiling but you can’t see it, and you clamber onto his back with a huff.

“Got it!” You cheer, nestling your cheek against his shoulder. He’s steady through two flights of stairs, not even quivering when he gently deposits you on his bed.

“You’re so strong,” You coo happily. “Thank you for carrying me, Icey.”

“You don’t have to thank me honey,” He smiles, full and sincere. “Always gonna take care of you.”

You giggle, reaching up to lock your arms around his neck. You grin grows impossibly big when he plasters kisses to the top of your head.

“C’mon sweet girl, let’s get you ready for bed.”

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topgun-imagines · 1 year

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Relief

Requested: yes

Summary: Your husband figures out how to give you some relief during the late stages of your pregnancy.

Word count: 0.6k

Warnings: pregnancy.

Pairings: Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky x wife!reader

Waves gently splashed on the sand as you walked down the shore. Tom was a few feet in front of you, laying a picnic blanket out carefully. You smiled at the sight, hand resting on your large bump. Your baby was due in just over three weeks, meaning that in less than a month you and your husband would have an addition to the family. The two of you had been trying for a baby for the past year and a half. You were just about to give up when you finally got pregnant with your baby boy.

Your husband lifted his head as you got closer. With a smile, he stretched out his hand and pulled you toward him. “How’re you doing, baby?” He questioned as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. His hands settled on the side of your bump.

His tanned skin was warm from the sunlight as you gripped his forearm. There was a soft, loving smile on your face as you stared into his eyes. “I’m good. Happy we’re here.” Lately, it seemed as if you and your husband had spent no time together. This was going to be one of the last times that the two of you would be able to go out alone for a while. In a few weeks, you would have a permanent addition to your family.

Ice grinned down at you, thumb gently stroking over your belly. One last kiss was pressed to the crown of your head before he turned around. The pilot kneeled down, fixing a few things up. He sat down on the multicolored blanket. Patting the spot next to him with a smile, he held a hand out to you.

It took a second, but eventually, you were ready to sit down. On your way down, however, you froze, setting a hand on your bump and standing back up. Ice was by your side in a matter of seconds. There was a worried look on his face as he held you up. His eyes moved up and down your frame quickly, looking for anything that might be wrong.

“I’m okay,” You assured him. “My back’s just sore.” He still didn’t look convinced.

Tom moved behind you, causing a confused look to rise on your face. His arms wound around you, hands settling just below your bump. When realization struck you, you moved to shake your head. You really didn’t need him to do that. You’d be fine in a few seconds.

“C’mon,” He murmured, breath fanning across the back of your neck. You relaxed back into him, hands settling on his forearms. Your husband pressed a chaste kiss to the skin behind your ear. “Just let me help you.”

The next thing you knew, Tom was gently lifting up your bump. Unbeknownst to you, a pleasured and relieved sigh fell from your lips. Instantly, the weight on your shoulders and lower back disappeared. What could only be described as a moan fell from your lips. Tom smiled, glad that you were finally feeling some relief.

You stood there like that for the next few minutes, leaning back onto Ice as he held up the weight of your bump. Your eyes fluttered shut and you basked in the warmth of the sun as you let the tension roll off you in waves.

After about five minutes, Ice slowly began to release your baby bump. You sighed as the pressure of the weight returned to your lower back. Your eyes opened slowly, squinting at the bright light of the sun. “Feeling better?” He whispered against the shell of your ear. You nodded, squeezing his arm gently as you leaned back against him. Ice smiled warmly and tightened his arms around your waist.

a/n: Hope you all enjoyed this cute little fic! Feel free to send in any requests.

Tagging: @topguncultleader @soulmates8 @t0kyoreveng3rs @there-goes-thefighter @supercatgirl006 @blueoorchid @dreamgirl3300 @alexxavicry

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topguncortez · 8 months

Note

Ice comforting gooses sister after his death. Maybe with a touch of people blaming him for the accident

- @topgun-imagines

When We Were Young | | T. Kazansky

Masterlist | Iceman Masterlist

synopsis: Tom Kazansky isn't a man who lives with many regrets. . . but this has to be one of them, and sadly, you get wrapped up right in it.

word count: 2.1k

warnings: character death, tears, depression, angst, probably grammar and spelling errors.

note: maybe possible blurb night?? I don't have to work tonight and I actually feel inspiration:) i also did just hit 5.3k:)))

Ice felt like the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

He knew what he did. He knew that he should’ve gotten out of there when Maverick told him. He knew that he didn’t have that shot lined up, but there was just something about Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell that got into his head and made him act reckless. And because of that, Iceman had to hold you up from crashing to the ground as you got the phone call from Carole that your brother was dead.

Ice knew that the two of you had an unbreakable bond. Your mother had passed when she gave birth to you, and your dad was in no shape to take care of you. So, it all fell onto Goose, who was just eight years old at the time. I’ve had always wished to have the type of brother-sister bond that you and Goose had. I’ve hated his siblings and wanted nothing to do with them.

Ice knew the moment that he watched Goose’s early ejection that he gone, but he didn’t have the heart to tell you. He wasn’t even sure if it would’ve been easier to hear it from him or not. Your knees had gone weak and sobs racked your body as you begged Carole to tell you that it wasn’t true. That somehow, someway the Navy had gotten it wrong. That they called and told the wrong Carole Bradshaw that the wrong Nicholas ‘Goose’ Bradshaw was dead.

When Ice decided he had enough of you sobbing uncontrollably on the kitchen he floor, he walked over to you, and gently put a hand on your shoulder.

“Baby, you need to breathe,” Ice said, as he gently pulled the receiver from your hand. Carole had long since hung up and the dial tone “C’mon, let’s get you to bed.”

He picked you up like you were nothing, carrying you with ease to your shared bed room for the time being. He changed you out of the clothes you were wearing, and slid on one of his Navy PT shirts, that was more of a dress than a shirt on you. He held you tightly against his chest, feeling the wetness from your eyes hit his skin. Ice ran circles up your back until the sobs faded to quiet whimpers.

--- --- ---

“They said it was quick.” Carole’s voice was barely above a whisper as you sat next to her in the day room of the barracks.

It hadn't even been twenty-four hours yet, and she had invited you to come with her to gather Goose's things. Carole wasn't sure that she could keep up a brave face in front of Bradley by herself, but you weren't sure if you were going to be much help either. It had only been about three hours since you had your last cry sesh, and you were feeling that all too familiar burning sensation in your chest again.

"I guess that's good," You muttered, looking over at Bradley who was flipping through the pages of some magazine which you weren't all too sure wasn't a Playboy.

"He was gone before he hit the water," Carole scoffed, "You know he always had a fear of the ocean ever since that trip to-"

"I know."

You didn't mean to cut Carole off, but you couldn't sit here and tell happy stories while your brother's best friend was collecting all of his things to give to his widow.

Hell, it didn't even feel right to call Carole a widow. The woman had barely turned 30.

It was silent for a moment, before Carole spoke up, "How was Ice last night?"

The sound of your boyfriend's callsign from her lips caught your attention, as you looked up from Bradley.

"Why do you ask?"

"He was in the air with Mav and Goose when. . . when it happened."

Now this was news to you.

But then you realized, you hadn't even bothered to see how this was affecting your boyfriend. Goose was the one who introduced the two of you back when he was at the academy. He tried doing the whole "older brother, stay away from my little sister" bit, but it was no use against Tom Kazansky's killer smile and your soft baby cow like brown eyes. Tom "Iceman" Kazansky was smitten from the moment he laid eyes on you and it had been history ever since.

"Did he say something to you?" You quietly asked Carole.

"I. . ." Carole started, and then sighed, "Maverick said something when he came and saw us. He said it was a mistake, that it was a stupid error. That he should've known-"

It was as if he knew they were discussing him, Iceman pulled the door to the day room open, standing in the doorway. He was dressed in his service khakis, ribbon rack and gold plating all perfectly shined. But you weren't looking at his perfectly done dress uniform, no, you were looking at the sad look in his baby blue eyes.

"Tom," Carole greeted, standing up from her chair. If there was one thing about Carole Bradshaw, it was that she was a hugger. It didn't matter if she was literally going through hell, she was going to hug you either way.

"Hi Carole," Ice greeted the woman, giving her a quick squeeze, before releasing her, "You guys been here long?" He was looking right at you, but you weren't sure what to even say to him. It had been a game of Tom Talks and you just look at him for the past couple days.

Carole looked between the two of you, before clearing her throat, "No, not long. Maverick is just gathering Goose's things," She turned to look at Ice again, "You should wait with us," She said softly to him.

Iceman nodded and walked over to where you were sitting with Bradley. The little boy smiled and reached for the man he considered another uncle. Usually, the sight of Iceman and Bradley made your heart do jumping jacks, but right now, it was as if a boa constrictor had found its way around it.

The four of you waited in painful silence, you staring at the silent movie playing on TV, until the door opened again, and Maverick stepped inside. Carole had managed to keep her tears at bay until she saw her husband's best friend.

Maverick, for lack of better words, looked like utter hell. His green eyes were full of sadness and guilt. He looked as though he hadn't slept a wink in days, and was about to collapse on the spot. In his hand, he held a simple copy paper box that had been filled with the rest of Goose's stuff. A Naval Officer had come by the day before and took all the things that rightfully belonged to the Department of the Navy.

"God, he loved flying with you, Maverick," Carole said, her voice cracking. You and Ice stood up, as Carole got out of her chair to greet him. She wrapped her arms around him, giving him a tight hug. You couldn't help the pang in your chest as he handed Carole the box.

"But he would've done it anyway... without you," Carole sighed, "He'd have hated it, but he would've done it." Maverick nodded. Carole gave him one more hug and a kiss on the cheek, before turning around and holding her hand out to Bradley, who ran to his mother in an instant. Her blues eyes looked up at you, and she gave you a sad smile, "We'll wait for you."

All you could do was nod. Leave it to Carole Bradshaw to know that you needed the truth more than anyone in this room. Once the door was shut and Carole was out of earshot, you looked at the two men standing in the room.

"What happened?" You asked.

"Baby, I already told-"

"No," You cut Tom off, and looked over at Maverick, "What happened?"

The brunette man gulped, looking quickly at Ice, before looking at you, "Ice was trying to take a shot on a boogey, but he was taking too long to get missile lock on it. I had the perfect shot lined up, but Ice needed to move out. I kept telling him to take the shot or move, but he wouldn't. And when he finally did, it was too late. We were in his jet wash. I lost control, went into a flat spin. . ." Maverick shook his head and looked at his shoes, "The ejection failed. Goose hit his head on the canopy. Killed him instantly."

Your brown eyes were filled with tears as you turned to look at Tom, whose jaw was clenched tightly, his eyes filled with regret and guilt.

"It was an accident-"

"If that's what you choose to believe," Maverick spat, "I think you were trying to teach me something and you got my best friend killed."

"I had the shot!"

"No you didn't!"

"Maybe, if you hadn't been flying so god damn close and not trying to swoop in and-"

"Oh piss off, Kazansky, you've been waiting for your moment to-

"Enough!" You yelled. Both men looked at you shocked that you had raised your voice. Compared to Goose, you were always the quiet one, sticking to stay in the corner while Goose liked to bet he center of attention.

"Baby, let's go-" Tom reached out to you, but you pushed away from him, "Y/N. . ."

You couldn't say it out loud, you were afraid of your heart would break in your chest. Instead, you shook your head and turned to Maverick.

"Take me home?"

The brown haired pilot nodded, putting his arm around your shoulders and ushered you out of the room.

Ice couldn't help the burning sensation of tears that welled up in his throat. He had heard the whispers of his fellow classmates for the past couple days. He knew what they were thinking, but to hear it said out loud, in front of the one person he didn't want knowing about what had happened that fateful day in the air, broke him. Tom knew he was already branded as ice cold, and now he was sure that he would never escape it.

Ice stood in the silent room for a moment, before turning on his heel and going back to work.

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thewulf · 1 year

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My Girl || Tom "Iceman" Kazansky

Summary: Request! Hello!! I saw that your requests are open, and was wondering if you could do a beau "cyclone" Simpson or a tom "iceman" Kazansky one shot, where cyclone/iceman are in an established relationship w a doctor and dagger squad/1986 top gun squad find out about the reader?

A/N: This one was so fun to write, although a bit shorter than my normal one shots. It just came so easily. I went with Tom in the Original 1986 version! There’s lots of flipping back and forth between names and callsigns, just a warning!

Pairing: Tom "Iceman" Kazansky x Y/N

Word Count: 3,200+

Once you parked your car in the driveway you took a moment to collect your thoughts. The residency was tough, kicking your ass even. You had opted to go into pediatric surgery which wasn’t for the faint of heart. More often than not things did go your way but today was one of those days where you lost a baby right at the end of the surgery, shattering you. These cases always felt worse than the best cases made you feel happy.

Tom was home you noted. His truck sitting in the driveway next to your much smaller car. He had moved into your condo after three years of dating. Things between the two of you were great. More than great. The both of you understood how demanding each other’s careers were so when you did get time together you loved to just relax with each other. You were rather looking forward to falling asleep on Tom’s shoulder or lap in a few hours.

Walking through the front door you found him sitting on the couch reading through what looked like a manual. Tom had just gotten into Top Gun with his RIO Slider, or as you knew him, Ron. Luckily, Top Gun wasn’t far from where you he was already stationed in San Diego so selfishly you got to have him home for a little while longer. That was the hardest of it all when Tom was deployed on a mission. You knew just how good he was in the air but there was that fear that always sat in the back of your mind when he left. You always just prayed he’d make it home safe. He hadn’t let you down yet.

“Hi baby,” Leaning down you kissed his cheek. Breaking him right of the trance he was in, “Everything okay?”

“Y/N.” He smiled pulling your neck down for an actual kiss, “I’m great sweetheart. Just making sure I’ve got everything before our practical tomorrow. Viper wasn’t happy we shot him down today, so I think he wants to prove a point.”

“Pete giving you any trouble today?” You asked while plopping yourself down next to him. Cuddling into him you took a deep breath finding immense comfort in his scent.

He grinned pulling you right on top of him, throwing the manual off to the side, “Mav’s always giving me trouble. But I don’t want to talk about him. I want to talk about you. How was your day?”

You sighed placing your head onto his chest, “Not good T. Lost an infant. Another five-year-old isn’t doing great either.” You didn’t feel like elaborating. Tom already knew how you felt. Completely and utterly defeated.

Rubbing your head he squeezed you with his other hand, “I’m sorry baby.”

“It’s okay,” You whispered, “Occupational hazard I suppose.”

“Doesn’t make it any easier.” He placed his chin on top of your head, “It’s okay to be sad.”

“I know, you make it easier though.” Mumbling you closed your eyes, listening to the steady rhythm of your boyfriend’s heart. Always finding comfort in him.

“You can’t fall asleep yet sweetheart.” His vibrations of the laughing coming from his chest only soothing you further.

“And why not?” You pouted while still keeping your eyes closed.

He paused, not sure if he wanted to bring up his plan anymore. See, the guys at Top Gun didn’t believe Ice the last time they were all at the Hard Deck. They didn’t believe he had a doctor girlfriend. Ice refused to even look at another woman knowing you were working late that night. Really the only reason he ever went out was if you were stuck at the hospital. He’d much rather spend his nights in with you on the couch watching some dumb show neither of you paid attention to.

Mav and Goose teased that he had no game. Not accepting that he had a girlfriend. Nonetheless one that was literally smarter than all of them combined. Claiming that Ice was far too cold of a person to ever get a girlfriend like that. Let alone keep one for four years. But your Tom was a whole lot different than the Iceman that all the aviators knew.

They really didn’t believe him when he described you. Even a few other aviators had to agree with the pair. Not believing Iceman was emotionally capable of obtaining somebody like you for that amount of time. You sounded way too grounded, smart, and beautiful to be wrapped up in the life of an aviator’s girlfriend. But the two of you made it work. You always made it a point to communicate as much as you could, even when things were tough.

The whole group all about lost it when Ice showed off the engagement ring he carried around with him. He didn’t know when he was going to propose to you, but he wanted to have the ring ready to go for when it felt right. He’d bought it a few months ago, the longer he lived with you the more it reinforced that he knew you were it for him. He saw himself starting a family with you. Being forever happy with you.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to babe.” He kissed the top of your head, “I was thinking we go to the Hard Deck tonight?”

You looked up at him turning your head in confusion. He never invited you to the Hard Deck. Not that you minded, at all. That was his place with the guys. You trusted Tom with your life. Of course, you’d let him have his place, “The Hard Deck?”

“Mhmm,” He rubbed circles on your back, “Maybe you could grab a few drinks, not think about the day?”

“Did you say the Hard Deck?” You asked again, making sure you heard him right.

“Yes.” He smiled, “There something wrong with it?”

You shook your head quickly, “No! I just haven’t been with you before.”

He frowned almost instantly, “Really?”

“Yeah, but it never bothered me. I promise. I know it’s your place.” You gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

“No wonder they don’t believe me.” Tom sighed leaning back into the couch, pulling you right along with him.

Over time you found that Tom’s love language was physical touch and quality time. He always pulled you into him or onto him. He found solace in your touch, loving every single second of it.

“What are you talking about?” You laughed, “You’re confusing me tonight, T.”

He smiled at his favorite nickname, “The guys don’t believe that you exist. That I’m making you up.”

“Ahh, now you’re making some more sense my love.” You giggled, “You want to show them that I exist then?”

He smirked pinching your side, “I want to show you off baby.”

“I’ve got a lot of work to do if you want to show me off.” You sighed feeling the ugliness of the day consuming the way you felt as well.

“Hardly. You’re so beautiful.”

Blushing lightly, you never got tired of the shower of compliments he always gave you, “Shush you cheese.”

“Only for you.” He bopped your nose.

“Let me shower really quick and then we can go.”

“Yeah?” He smiled knowing you would do anything for him, “We don’t have to go if you’re tired and just want to relax.”

You shook your head, “And miss my chance to meet Maverick? The only human whose ever made you angry. Never.” You giggled hopping right off him and running upstairs before he could protest.

You opted for a nice floral sundress. One because it was over a hundred damn degrees in San Diego during the summer and two you had to dress to impress. Tom wanted to show you off and you wanted to try your best. Hopefully you weren’t as awkward as you normally felt you were.

“Baby, you look amazing. As always.” Tom winked pulled you into his side, “I’m so lucky.”

“Always such a mush.” You cooed wrapping an arm around his side.

“What? I can’t fawn over my beautiful girl.”

Blushing you rolled your eyes, “Shush, you know what you’re doing.”

He shrugged, “I love seeing you blush.” Chucking he gave you a squeeze before going to open the door for you. The ride to the Hard Deck was short, you lived close to the base. You didn’t work at the Naval hospital but the civilian one down the road.

Before he let you hop out, he stopped you, “I might act a little different than normal.”

“Like what?” You smiled seeing him so nervous.

“A bit of an asshole.”

Your turn to laugh, “I expected that, Tom. I do pay attention to your stories you know.”

He returned your smile with one of his own, “God, I love you. You know that?”

Nodding your head, you leaned in for a kiss, “I do. I love you to pieces too.”

Breaking the kiss, he quickly got out to open the door for you. Four years later and you never grew tired of his gestures. He always thought of you in everything that he did. How could you not be madly in love with a man like that?

He wrapped his arm around your shoulders pulling you close into him as you both entered the bar. Whether he was staking his claim on you or what you didn’t care, you loved being close to him. You loved it even more when he wasn’t afraid to show it. Who knew a bunch of Naval aviators would push him to do something so wildly out of his comfort zone. Tom at home was lovey and mushy always. Tom in public was sweet but never got too affectionate. Nothing like what he was doing right now.

Tom quickly spotted Slider pulling you along with him. He let you take the seat next to him white he stood behind you.

“I’ll be damned. Is this Y/N really out at the Hard Deck.” Ron put his aviators on top of his head eyeing the pair curiously. You adored Tom’s RIO. You guys often had him over for dinner once you moved in. He was good company and saw the rare soft side that Tom really only reserved for you on occasion.

“Your eyes don’t deceive you, Ronny.” You grinned using your favorite nickname for him. It still felt odd calling him Slider even though that’s exclusively how Tom referred to him as.

Ron looked up towards Ice waiting for his response, “What?” Ice questioned his RIO.

“Mav and Goose get under your skin that bad?”

Tom scoffed, “Hardly. I just wanted to go out with my girl. Is that such a crime?”

Ron smirked up at his friend knowing he was bullshitting him hard. Ever since Ice heard what happened to Cougar with the MIG’s and dropping out of the Navy as a whole pissed him off. Mav took Cougar’s spot. His rightful spot that he worked years for. Of course, he held resentment. Then he met the guy. He had to admit that you were right. There weren’t many people who could agitate Tom, Mav ended up being one.

Tom spotted him just as he was thinking of him sitting across the bar. Smirking Tom decided to lean down and give you a long kiss on the cheek hoping Mav would see before whispering, “Mav, 2 o’clock.” To you.

You looked over in that general direction and had to have spotted the man that seemed to torture your Tom. He looked a little shocked before replacing it was a cocky façade you were sure most aviators wore.

It wasn’t a moment later the man made his way over to where the three of you were.

“Your girl actually exists Ice?” Pete asked Tom but looked at you. He couldn’t seem to take his eyes off you.

Taking a long sip of your cocktail you eyed him up and down, “That’s it?” You looked back up at Tom curiously.

“What hon?” He asked you quizzically. Not having a clue what you were getting at.

“I was just expecting more that’s all.” You smiled sweetly at the man. Ron up and started laughing. Tom’s mouth almost completely dropped, and Pete looked a little pissed.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Pete questioned you with a confused expression garnering his face.

You shrugged, “For such a dominant callsign of Maverick I was just expecting more. That’s all.”

“What are you doing?” Tom whispered in your ear albeit with a small smile forming on his face.

“Pissing him off baby.” You kissed his cheek slowly.

“Why?”

“Because he pisses you off. Fair is fair.” You giggled before grabbing for your cocktail again. You weren’t sure what was coming over you. You weren’t overly attention seeking but when somebody wound up your boyfriend like that you just had to do the same back. Tom protected you fiercely it was your turn to do the same. Even if it was all just in good fun.

Pete stood there confused. You decided to rub salt on the wound, “Would you like a drink or?”

“Are you paying?” He smirked getting his confidence back.

“Ha!” You let out an obnoxious laugh earning the attention of a few more aviators unbeknownst to you, “You wish hot shot. Your boyfriend down there is paying.” You pointed straight to the blonde who was avidly watching what was going down between the group.

You looked up at Tom who looked pleasantly surprised. His girlfriend more than holding her own against the arrogant asshole that drove him mad.

“Goose.” Mav sighed rolling his eyes before darting off to go find him.

You smiled up to your boyfriend feeling the buzz start to take over as you downed your first drink a little too quickly.

“Ice! That’s your girl?” A group of aviators in uniform came over. Turning towards the group you smiled kindly to the trio that made their way over.

“No shit, you actually exist. How do you stand him?”

“Hollywood shut it.” Tom nearly growled stepping closer to your barstool.

“Easily.” You continued after Tom interjected.

“Really?” The one standing next to Hollywood spoke up.

Tom looked like he was going to explode on them if they didn’t back off soon, “Really Wolfman?”

“Just surprising.” He muttered looking away from the gaze that could kill.

“It’s nice to meet you all.” You attempted to break the tension between all the men that happened out of nowhere, “Tom says great things about you all.”

“You too!” Hollywood clapped walking over to you, “Now I need to pick your brain on Iceman over here.”

“No way Hollywood.” Tom laughed blocking him from taking a seat next to you. He had his mask for work for a reason. He had to build up his reputation to be called Iceman, he didn’t want that to be ruined. He was cool calm collected Iceman who never broke in the air. Flew cold as ice. There is no way in hell he’d ever let one of them learn about the other side of himself. The soft side of him. The truer side where he felt his best when he was with you. He knew he was weak for you, but he always knew you were just as weak for him.

Tom never really believed in soul mates before he met you. But when he accidentally ran into you, literally, at the hospital you worked at his heart nearly stopped right then and there. He knocked you flat on your ass, but you were nothing but gracious. You started laughing, likely in embarrassment but it was a better reaction than anger. Tom insisted he buy you a coffee for the trouble and you accepted. You were on hour fourteen of a hell shift and a coffee sounded more than wonderful. From that moment on Tom believed. He was so thankful he literally ran you over.

Little did the two of you know that would kick off the world wind romance you found yourself in, but you couldn’t be more grateful. Tom was everything to you. You quickly fell in love with him, and it terrified you. You were so useed to shitty men and shitty relationships this relationship made you constantly on edge. Waiting on the other shoe to drop. But it never did. Tom just kept treating you better and better the longer you two dated. It was month four that you knew you loved him deeply. Luckily, he told you first which negated any fear you had in the relationship.

“Come on Ice!” Hollywood attempted to pout earning a laugh from Slider and Wolfman.

“Like I said. No fucking way.”

Smiling you loved watching the interaction between all of the aviators. He was different but he was still your Tom. He just threw that mask up to protect himself. You understood. You had to do the same thing at work. Feeling like you had to be a stone-cold bitch many times to prove yourself to your attending because you were a woman. There weren’t many woman surgeons let alone ones that specialized in pediatrics in the 80’s. You were sure that Tom would hardly recognize you at work, an almost heartless version of yourself.

A few more aviators came over seeing a crowd forming around you. Tom viscerally groaned knowing this was likely going to happen. He brought it upon himself but now the guys were picking on him by giving you so much attention. Tom wanted nothing more than to throw you over his shoulder and take you home away from all of them.

“Ice! She’s pretty. How in the hell did you manage that?”

Tom rolled his eyes knowing you heard the comment, “Shut up Merlin.”

Slider started cracking up seeing the irritation grow on his pilot’s face, “Hey Merlin, ever thought it was because he’s amazing in the sack?”

Your face grew bright red at the comment. He surely wasn’t wrong, but you certainly weren’t going to admit it to the now group of pilots that surrounded you and Ron at the bar.

Ice slapped the back of his head, “The hell is wrong with you?”

“Her face is bright red! It must be true!”

You shrugged grabbing your refreshed cocktail instead of answering.

“Oh, shut the hell up Goose!” Tom groaned flipping him off earning a roar of laughter from the Top Gun group.

“I always knew you were a legend man.” Slider commented while winking over at him making sure to dig his hole deeper.

“You’re on my shit list.” Tom tried to keep a straight face before joining in the group laughing at the situation.

For the next few hours, you chatted with random pilots finding the best conversation with Nick Bradshaw. He reminded you of your brother finding an easy casual conversation with him. You still made sure to give Pete a hard time, for the sake of Tom.

Tom pulled you aside when he had enough, “Ready to go home? I want some time with you sweetheart.”

You nodded finding it so attractive he wanted you to himself, “Let’s go.”

He helped you up from your stool waving the crowd of aviators off. The two of you blaming your work for your early departure. One perk of being a doctor is being able to use that as an excuse to leave anything you didn’t want to be at.

“For the record, I’m not only with you because you’re good in bed. But it’s a perk.”

He smirked, “Let’s utilize that perk when we get home, yeah?”

You looped your arm in his, “Hell yeah.”

“That’s my girl.”

@wildellaa I hope you enjoy!

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ddejavvu · 11 months

Note

hi! can i request iceman x fem!reader where they’re on their first date and reader can’t get enough of how fine he looks and how good he smells, pls?

Dancing is the last thing you thought you'd be doing on your first date with Tom. Drinking, sure. Kissing, you could dare to dream. Sitting down at a fancy restaurant, maybe. And to his credit, you did enjoy a nice dining experience, but he'd led you into a little club afterwards. It isn't a bar, there's no reeling drunkards passed out on the dance floor. No, it's more sophisticated than that, a live band playing in the corner while couples dance together.

The music that's playing now is reminiscent of swing, and Tom is surprisingly good at the style of dance to go with it. You're taking his lead, letting him step and push and pull and twirl, all with that dazzling smile on his face.

"You're wonderful at dancing!" You marvel as he hooks a hand around your waist, pulling it flush to his own. It means you get a nose-full of his cologne, sharp and musky and something you want on your bedsheets.

"It's hard not to be when you're so wonderful to dance with," He croons, practically purring inches away from your face. His smile is almost more intoxicating than his scent, and you're lucky your knees don't give out. What your face does isn't much help, though, as it blooms into a grin so bashful that you have to duck your head to hide it from him.

"Hey," He chuckles, using his grip on your waist to maneuver you towards the side of the room, dancing coming to a halt, "That's not fair, I want to see your face."

He hooks a finger under your chin and lifts it so that his nose nearly brushes yours. You're even more sheepish now as he hums, "What is it, angel?"

"I don't know," You shrug, biting your bottom lip, "it's just- Well," You gush, "I'm having a really great time. And you're- you must be the most handsome man I've ever gone out with."

He laughs at the admission, a deep, sweet sound from his chest. You should probably feel embarrassed admitting it, but not enough to deny him the compliment, and you press on in case his grin will get any wider.

"And you smell amazing," You laugh, "letting him pull your waist closer to his, "I'm just impressed, that's all."

"Yeah? Well that's good," He muses, "'Cause you know I used this cologne to impress you. I was hoping," He bows his own head now, laughing towards his chest, "That maybe you'd put your head on my shoulder."

Your cheeks get hotter, if possible, as he continues, "Like this."

He smooths his hand up from your chin to your cheek, guiding your head to lay against his chest. It puts your nose in his collarbones and he feels your breath over his shirt. The music works with you, transitioning into a slower paced song that the dancers mirror. All of a sudden you're back on the floor, swaying in time with your head on his chest and his arms around your waist.

"So it worked?" He murmurs, carefully avoiding standing on your toes even though you're only inches apart.

"It worked," You press a quick kiss to the collar of his shirt and he feels it beneath the fabric, "I think I want to stay here forever, Tom."

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multifandomfanfic · 2 years

Note

Hi!! I was wondering if I could request a fluffy one shot with iceman from top gun?? I was thinking a morning after and reader is kinda unsure of what is going to happen but Tom is super sweet and cuddly. Love your writings!!!💕💕

Morning After

Summary: Worries flood your mind after your first time with Iceman. You had been told to stay away from Navy pilots after all. Luckily, Ice makes how he feels about your relationship clear.

Warnings: mentions of sex, kissing, doubts about relationship (I guess)

Word Count: 2.1k

Plenty of people had warned you about the Navy pilots before moving so close to Top Gun. You were well aware of how they swept women off their feet one day only to leave them the next. Rinse and repeat. Yet, you moved anyways, into a small, one-bedroom apartment. It was cute, had a balcony that overlooked the beach, and was extremely close to the Hard Deck. That was where it all started.

Your friend introduced you to the beach-side bar one Friday night. You weren’t looking for a Navy stud to take home. You just wanted to have fun.

After a round of billiards, you retired to the bar as your friend “went to the bathroom.” As she walked away, the man in uniform she had talked to while playing pool joined her, and they exited the building instead of turning left into the bathrooms.

A beer hardly took the pain of being ditched away. What a nice introduction to the city: your friend, and ride, leaving you stranded at a bar. At least it was a short walk home.

It was then he caught your eye. Across the bar, a blonde man wearing sunglasses and intensely chewing gum inside was looking in your direction. He lifted the glasses from his eyes when he spotted you and winked once they were finally off his head. You rolled your eyes. Another pilot. How could your friend have fallen for the other man's tricks?

The man’s eyes stayed glued to you as you quickly drank your beer. The sooner the golden liquid was gone, the sooner you could walk home. You glimpsed across the bar again. The blond had disappeared. Your eyebrows scrunched in confusion as you checked around for the mystery man.

“Oh my God,” you breathed, flinching in surprise. He was right next to you, leaning against the clean bar-top. A cheeky grin spread across his face.

“Did I scare you?” he teased, his facial expression unchanging, “Or are you just that surprised at my good looks?”

“No, you surprised me, that’s all,” your cheeks began burning. There was no doubt they were now a deep pink color. You grabbed your bag and began standing, but the blond blocked your way to the door. Every time you stepped in a different direction, he followed. Eventually, you groaned and looked him straight in the eye as he stood in front of the exit door.

“Can I at least get a name?” he asked.

You sighed and brushed a strand of hair out of your face. The man was handsome with his beautiful green eyes and stunning face, you had to admit but his ego was clearly enormous. Maybe if he could keep it under control. But that would never happen. He was one of the infamous Navy pilots, after all.

“Y/N.”

“A little louder, please?” he said, bending down slightly and tilting his ear towards you.

“Y/N!” you practically shouted. The rest of the bar was too full and rowdy to hear your little scuffle. The man chuckled and resumed chewing on his piece of gum.

“I’m Iceman.”

“Ha, ha,” you said sarcastically, deciding to humor Iceman’s attempts, “What’s your real name?”

“Why? You’re not into pilots?”

You sighed for what seemed like the thousandth time in the evening, “No, I’m not. Now, tell me your real name or I’m walking out the door.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Iceman taunted. He crossed his arms but, when you didn’t move, he continued, “The name’s Tom Kazansky.”

“Great,” you stated bluntly, “Now, Tom, I would like to go home. Let me through, please.”

He begrudgingly returned his arms to his side, allowing you to walk through the exit. His voice called after you once you walked out of the building. You ignored him the first time, and the second, but the third time you turned around.

“Yes?”

“At least let me walk you home,” he appealed to you. His ego was starting to fade.

“I think I’m fine, thanks,” you replied, but you didn’t turn back around yet. You wanted to hear his response.

“C’mon. You can’t walk home alone, especially this late.” he checked his watch and then made eye contact with you again, “it’s almost eleven.”

Your eyes darted around the night. It was incredibly dark and the street lights weren’t helping. There were plenty of spaces someone could be hiding in, plenty of spaces you could be taken to...

“Fine,” you said. It was your turn to cross your arms when he paused in disbelief, “You coming?”

Iceman hurried to your side and, after casually throwing his arm around your shoulders, you began making your way back to your apartment.

To your utter surprise, the walk was nicer than you expected. The conversation flowed smoothly, although it only lasted for about ten minutes. You couldn’t help but ask about his flying escapades and he happily obliged, detailing the most daring missions he’d been on and the training he did. It didn’t occur to you that his stories may have been a tad exaggerated.

Once you were at your front door, your opinion of Iceman had practically done a complete 180. Despite his ego, he had treated you kindly even though he knew he wouldn’t be reaching third base that night.

“Thank you for walking me home,” you said, turning around in your doorway. He was standing across from you with his hands behind his back. He looked innocent outside of your door. Nothing like the man who had tempted you across the bar just twenty minutes ago.

“It was no problem,” he replied, “I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah, definitely,” you nodded, a light blush returning to your cheeks, “Good night.”

“Good night.”

You returned to the Hard Deck without your friend the next night and the next. Suddenly, it had been a week of going to the unruly bar. The reason was to see Iceman, of course, but you couldn’t admit that. At least, not yet. Each time, you played the same game of eyeing each other across the bar. Then, as soon as one of you was about to leave, the other would catch up to them and “walk them home.” It was truthfully just a stroll to your house after a couple of beers.

Several times during your walks, you found your eyes wandering up to your escort home. Man, was he hot. Thoughts drifted into your head. At first, they were innocent: what it would feel like to run your fingers through his hair, to hold his hand, to feel his lips on yours. But, whenever your dreaming would take a more explicit turn, Iceman would notice your staring and you would be interrupted.

“We can’t keep going about this,” Iceman finally said the fourteenth time (fifteenth? You weren’t sure at this point) he escorted you home. There had been plenty of unofficial bar dates where a friend insisted they drove you home instead. Those were your least favorite days, for obvious reasons.

“Going about what?” you asked innocently. This time, your hands were positioned behind your back, “What do you want to change?”

“You know what,” Iceman took a step closer to you. You could feel his breath on your skin, sending goosebumps down your spine.

“I’m not sure I do,” you teased, a surge of confidence rushing through you. You had gotten to know Tom. He wasn’t one of those Navy pilots that people gossiped about. Maybe he was in the beginning, but now.. now you were in the clear, “Why don’t you show me?”

Iceman chuckled and took another step closer. His face was hardly inches from you. He bit his lower lip sensually, his eyes darting between your mouth and eyes. Eagerness was building in your abdomen as you leaned in as well. To your past self’s dismay, you had been waiting for this.

In a moment, Iceman’s lips were crashing against yours in a desperate fever. They were just like you imagined them. Rough, but passionate, like he had been harboring the same thoughts about you that you held for him. Both of you were stumbling back into your apartment. After slamming the door behind you, Iceman wrapped his arm around your hips, picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom as your hands began tugging at his shirt.

You disconnected your lips for a second, taking a breath of air, “Are you sure about this?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he answered before placing his lips on your once again.

xXx

You awoke early the next morning. Faint sunshine was streaming through your window, illuminating the room in a gentle glow. Your covers were a mess. The clothes you had worn the night before were thrown haphazardly on the floor, along with some pillows. Everything seemed perfect. Too perfect.

Thoughts began flowing through your head. They were unlike the pleasant ones that filled your mind before. They were doubtful, worrying. What was going to happen now? You glanced at the man sleeping to your right. He was so peaceful and calm. What would happen when he woke up?

The words “Why wouldn’t I be?” kept returning to your mind. Was he actually unsure? What if he didn’t actually care? Were you just another one-night stand to him? You had only known him for a month or so, too. You didn’t doubt that Iceman would play the long con for a pretty face. The thought that he had done that to you made you sick.

Suddenly, you felt something tugging at your waist. Iceman’s large arms wrapped around you, pulling your body close to his. He laid his head over your shoulder and began placing small kisses along your neck.

“Good morning,” he mumbled in between lazy kisses.

You hardly heard him. You were too lost in thought to process any noise outside of your brain. Was he buttering you up to drop you like a rock not minutes later? He had probably put his clothes on already and was only still here to tell you he would never see you again.

“Good morning,” Iceman said a little louder. He stopped peppering kisses down your neck, “How’d you sleep?”

“Fine.”

“You look beautiful.”

“Thanks.”

Iceman frowned and unattached one of his hands from your waist. He propped himself up on his elbow, his other hand still laid across your stomach. You turned to lay on your back and stared at the popcorn ceiling, refusing to meet Iceman’s gaze. While your worries weren’t confirmed, you were almost certain they would be soon. You had fallen for a Navy pilot. You did what everything had instructed you not to do.

“What’s wrong?” Iceman asked, his fingers drawing circles around your stomach.

“Nothing,” you said quietly.

“You’re lying,” he stated. Iceman took his hand off your stomach and held your cheek gently, guiding your face to look at him. His eyes scanned your face for any sign of what was troubling you.

He sighed, “You know that I love you, right?”

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” you said, quietly laughing to yourself at the end.

“I definitely don’t,” he scoffed, getting off his elbow and wrapping his arms around you again. He dragged you across the bed so he was spooning you from behind, “In fact, you’re the first person I’ve said that to in a long time. What made you think that?”

“I don’t know. Everybody warned me about Navy men when I moved here and I figured you wouldn’t really care about me.”

“What? I would never treat you like... however people told you Navy pilots treated women. I don’t know what would happen to me if something bad happened to you. I- I care for you a lot, Y/N, no matter how big my ego is,” he said. You could sense the cheeky grin growing on his face.

“Oh, so you’re self-aware now?” you joked.

“Mhm,” Iceman murmured, holding you tighter than he was before. For the first time since you awoke, you realized how comfortable his arms felt around you. It was like they were perfectly built to fit your waist, “I mean it when I say I love you Y/N. I hope you love me back.”

You twisted around in his arms to face him and looked him in the eyes. They were soft, unlike the night before when they were eating you alive. You couldn’t help but smile. He loved you. He really did.

“How long can you stay until?” you asked.

“As long as you need me to.”

“Good,” you said. Before joining your lips in a slow, much-needed kiss, you added, “I love you, too, Tom.”

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callsign-phoenix · 4 months

Text

I wrote this as a part of my 12 days of ficmas, I hope you like it!

It is a young!Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky x gn!reader imagine.

Thank you @famfan-1034 for helping with the plot!

The prompt is Matching Christmas sweaters.

Warnings: this is only proofread by me, also you can just knit in this one

You and Tom were in an incredibly young relationship.

You had just gotten together two weeks before Christmas.

Tom was fun, kind and charismatic, and you loved spending time together.

While he decided to spend Christmas Day with his family he asked if you wanted to spend the 26th with him.

You were so excited and really liked Tom, which was why you maybe went a little overboard with his present.

You really enjoyed knitting so you had made your dream Christmas sweater, spending days on the design and then just about two weeks of vehement knitting to finish it.

When Tom had seen it he had commented on it, telling you how much he liked it.

It made you ecstatic, and when he asked you to spend a Christmas holiday with him you knew just what to get him.

You spent hours each day working away on your present, which you hoped he’d love as much as you did.

Work was busy and you did your very best, sometimes even knitting at night to make progress.

In the end you had a beautiful gift, one that was identical to the sweater he had admired.

When the 26th came around you drove to his place, a beautifully packaged box in the shotgun seat of your car.

When Tom opened the door he was beaming brightly, enveloping you into a hug and pressing a welcoming kiss to your lips.

“Merry Christmas, baby,” he said, and you replied similarly.

You settled down on his couch and moved to face each other, broad grins on your faces.

You received your present first and were so excited to hand yours over.

Tom handled his present carefully, putting it on his lap to gently pull the tape off.

The moment the paper fell to reveal your work your nerves grew, and you found a curious expression on his face.

Your heart was pounding below your self made sweater, as you watched his face nervously.

He turned his head to look at you, a wide smile growing on his lips.

He was silent for a few seconds, which was why you started speaking.

“Is it boring? Your grandma could have made it, I know. I just… you said you loved it and I really wanted you to love what I got you. So I made this for you? It’s tacky, I know, and it’s very straightforward. But I felt like maybe you’d like it?” You started rambling, until Tom set a hand on your own.

“Baby, I love it,” he said softly, his voice much gentler than usual.

You were confused by his very touched reaction as he lay his hand on the material gently, his thumb caressing it slightly.

“I… no one’s ever made anything for me before,” he added, and a small hopeful smile started to tug on your lips.

“I’d wear that sweater every day of my life if I could,” he said, and you laughed, expecting it to be a joke.

Tom looked at you as if it was the most serious thing he had ever said, and you felt heat rise in your chest and cheeks.

“Thank you, baby. It’s the best present I ever got,” he added, and the heat rose in your cheeks when he leaned in to kiss you.

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roosterbruiser · 1 year

Note

Now hold on!! What about an iceman blurb! Anything would work honestly

prompt I chose: I love the way your brain works.

"how's it going?" Ice asks from his spot on the sofa, glancing over at you on the loveseat. you're hunched over, eyes narrowed in concentration, lips tucked between your teeth. "don't hurt yourself."

"I'll bite you," you warn absently, not glancing up at him.

he smirks, just about to quip something witty back, when you drop your voice a few octaves and mock him, "I should be so lucky."

"trying to say I'm getting predictable or something, slugger?"

"love it when you talk baseball to me," you mutter, still not looking away from your deformed chain. "gets me real hot and bothered."

he can't wipe that grin off his face--that broad one that only you can stick on his lips for more than a few fleeting minutes.

your fingers are tangled in yarn, as are your forearms somehow, and you can't quite figure out how yarning over works or what the fuck chaining one even means. your concoction doesn't look great--hardly looks good, even--but it's much better than when you first started.

Ice knows that you're dedicated like this. you'll spend your day off picking up a new hobby and obsessively restart it until it begins to resemble something remotely successful. he admires it, really, how stubborn you are about it.

since this is a rare day off for him, too, he spent it doing the things he enjoys but hardly gets to do. he went for a run, grabbed decent coffee from the local roasterie, grilled steak for dinner. and now he's watching an old baseball game--except he's moreso been watching you diligently work on whatever it is you're making.

"whatcha making anyway?" Ice hums, raising his brows and craning his neck to look at the twists of yarn in his lap.

very seriously, you hold up a very uneven and pathetic rope that took you more time than you care to admit to complete, and look him dead in the eyes.

"a scarf," you tell him, "for you."

and dammit if he doesn't have a hard time keeping up that cool exterior. so much so that when he's at home with you, there's really no such thing as Iceman--he's just Tom. still, he tries to keep some semblance of composure.

"oh?" he asks, his heart pulsing with affection. with the baseball game still droning on in the background and totally forgotten, he pushes himself up on his elbows before nodding sharply for you to come to him. "c'mere. I wanna try it on."

you debate it for a moment, looking down at your creation. it isn't necessarily what you envisioned when you started out. it's certainly not thick enough to be a scarf--nor is it long enough to wrap around his throat twice.

"c'mon," he encourages, a grin tugging at his lips. "I won't bite."

and this time, Ice mocks you, raising his voice a few octaves and waggling his eyebrows: "I wish you would."

narrowing your eyes at him, but biting a smile all the same, you slink off the sofa and then settle yourself on his lap, a fair amount of blue yarn trailing behind you.

Ice, smirking, holds onto your thighs and watches as you detangle yourself from your creation, eyebrows knit.

"got it, slugger?"

"you're in the danger zone," you warn, all bark and no bite. "here."

he sits up and lets you wrap the scarf around his throat, never minding that it's the middle of summer in California or the fact that he only has on a tee-shirt and boxers right now.

and then you press your palms against his hard belly, lips pursed as you admire the color against his tanned skin. he's grinning up at you, massaging the meat of your thighs until you're squirming a bit.

"how do I look?" he asks.

sucking your teeth, you fidget with a particularly strange looking stitch.

"whipped," you answer honestly.

he barks out a big laugh and you keen.

"that's the ugliest thing I've ever seen," you chuckle. he's still laughing and now you're laughing harder, too. "I mean, really, don't wear that out of the house! it's bad!"

"no, it's not!" he insists.

groaning, you collapse on his chest, cheek pressed against his neck.

"I just wasted my day off," you complain, but he can still feel that smile on your lips, that chuckle in your throat.

he smooths his hands over your hair, humming.

"nuh-uh," he insists. "I love it. really, I do! I'm gonna wear it to work tomorrow."

"fat chance," you snort.

he teasingly pinches your sides until you're squeaking and burrowing deeper against the warm skin of his throat.

"how 'bout this," he starts, tucking your hair behind your ears and craning his neck to catch your gaze. "Mav's birthday's coming up. we could always...regift."

grinning, you hold his cheeks.

"I love the way your mind works."

367 notes · View notes

crazyk-imagine · 1 year

Text

Checking Trick ✔️ or Treat ✔️

Pairing: Tom “Iceman” Kazansky x Pilot!reader

Characters: Pilot!reader, Leonard “Wolfman” Wolfe (Henry “Wolfman” Ruth), Nick “Goose” Bradshaw, Pete “Maverick” Mitchell, Ron “Slider” Kerner, Tom “Iceman” Kazansky

Briefly mentioned: Carole Bradshaw, Bradley Bradshaw

Warnings: Reader and Wolfman being besties, Maverick playing pranks while being a little shit, Goose being the best psychologist, Classic Mave quote for his Goose pal, the terrible trio (Slider, Goose, and Maverick) trying to get Combat and Iceman together, Wolfman being a dramatic bitch, Iceman being a sweetheart and a horny little shit, implied smut but no details

Word Count: 2,046

A/N: Reader’s call sign is Combat

Happy (almost) Halloween!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“He’s gonna be there,” your annoying (one and only) friend, Leonard tells you.

“Thanks, Peaches.”

He groans, “how many times have I told you not to call me that?”

“I don’t know. How many times have you not gotten a girl’s number because of that hat?”

“Woah. Woah. Too far, Combat. Too far.”

“Whatever.” You start working on your makeup, hoping you can get it right (unlike the past week when you’ve failed every other time).

“When are you gonna be done and ready?” He whines, his hat resting over his face. “We’re gonna be late.”

You scoff through your nose, “we’re not gonna be late. Get your shoes off my bed, Dogboy.”

“Don’t be mean.”

“Don’t get dirt on my bedspread.”

“I’m raiding your kitchen.” He stomps out of your room.

“Have fun! You won’t find anything you want.”

The stairs creak under you as you walk down.

He puts away the jar or peanut butter and tosses the spoon into the sink (as if you won’t know what he did). “Finally, I was beginning to think-” he cuts himself off at the sight of your costume. “Wow! Please tell me you ain’t looking nice for one of my classmates because, I got to be honest, you look good, too good and I don’t want to be bearing up people all night long. I’ve got people to impress too,” he tugs on the collar of his buttoned-up flannel.

“I’m sure you’re getting ladies left and right. Oh, that is until they realize that hat never comes off. Talk about a real deal breaker.”

“Bite me.”

“Not on this lifetime, Dogboy.”

“You know what my call sign is. Use it.”

“How about… no.”

He groans, shutting the door behind him.

“You better lock it!” You shout as you get into his car.

“Give me your keys!”

You toss him the keys; he almost drops them but is able to make a recovery and clutches onto them before the keys could fall into the bushes. “How are you in Top Gun?”

“Okay. One, rude and second, Top Gun doesn’t require you to play catch. You know that.”

“I also know that you’re gonna want to bang everyone at the bar tonight.”

“This is why we’re such good friends.”

“We’re friends because your dumbass got burned too many times at that weird club and you looked like you needed someone who needed a friend.”

“Is that compassion that I hear from the scary, big, bad, Combat.”

“I’m this close to opening the car door and tumbling onto the road.”

He pulls to a stop at the red light and looks over at you. “Your fingers are touching!”

“Exactly!”

You lean your head closer to him, “if you leave me so help me God, Leonard.”

“I’m not. I’m-”

You look at him and back to the girl he’s been working up the nerve to talk to for the past few weeks. “No,” you shake your head.

“I’m leaving you.”

“You little sh-”

“It’s not you, it’s me and me needs to talk to a pretty lady to make me feel better.” He practically runs away after that.

You purse your lips, slightly pissed off at Wolfman but overall impressed with his dramatic skills. You make your way over to the bar, ordering your usual.

“Well, don’t you clean up nice.”

You sigh, hoping to whoever is listening that this isn’t some douche, talking to everyone else from Top Gun is enough. You turn, a wide smile dancing across your lips at the sight of your favorite non-official photographer. “What’s up, Nick?”

He smiles back knowing he did good with his douche voice. “Not much, just came by, drop Mave off, say hi and run home so we can take Brad trick or treating.”

“You’re such a good work husband to Maverick.”

He snorts, shaking his head, “why are we using call signs? We all know you don’t use ‘em unless you’re upset, or they’ve done something to piss you off.”

You don’t answer him and take a sip of your drink.

“Come on,” he continues. “It couldn’t have been that bad.”

“It’s bad, alright.”

He pats your shoulder, “tell psychologist Goose, what happened so I know how bad I need to kick Mave’s ass.”

You lightly slap your hand against your chest, “aw. Nick, I didn’t realize you cared so much.”

What you hadn’t realized was that a certain follow the rules Naval Aviator watching the two of you talk, a bitter feeling flooding through his veins as you pick at the skirt of your costume.

He knows he doesn’t have a right to be feeling this way, but he can’t help himself. Ron nudges his shoulder.

“What?” Tom grumbles.

“If you’re gonna be pissed off all night I’m ditching you for that one,” he points to a woman dressed like red riding hood. “I know I’ll have a better time with her than I would with you.”

“If you want to talk to little red then go. I don’t care,” he mumbles before throwing his head back to drink the rest of his drink.

Ron walks away from his friend, walking over towards the annoying blond one.

You pinch the costume skirt between your fingers, lifting it for him to understand. “This is not what I wanted when I said I wanted something scary.”

Nick furrows his brows, “you wanted something scary, okay.”

“You want to know how this princess costume is scary, right?”

He nods.

“Maverick told me that me dressing up so nice, like a princess was scary.”

He bursts out laughing and quickly covers his mouth. He turns resting his forehead on his arms, making a terrible attempt to hide his laughter.

You shove his shoulder, “don’t laugh you jerk.”

His head snaps up. “I’m not laughing,” he answers you with the widest smile on his face.

“You’re an ass.”

There’s a tap on your left shoulder, you look to see who it is only to find no one.

You turn back to ask Nick who it was but, he’s disappeared. You scoff, “what an ass.”

Ron continues to haul Nick further away from you and Tom.

“Okay, okay.” Nick shoves his hand off the back of his neck, “ease up on the grip.”

“That’s not what I heard.” The RIO furrows his brows, glancing his opposing RIO up and down. “We’re not doing this tonight. Your friend already did is part. It’s time you did yours.”

The mustached man scoffs, “I’ve been doing more than you have all night.”

Ron raises a brow, “are we gonna keep doing this or are we gonna get those two to fess up and get together?”

“Who knew you were such a romantic?”

“I’ve got Ice, you keep Combat there.”

He walks away, aiming back towards his friend.

“You keep Combat there,” Nick mimics with a sarcastic tone. “Who does he think I am? I can keep her there. Oh shit. No, no, no.” He pushes and shoves his way through the crowd.

He slaps his hand down on his buddy’s shoulder. “Mave,” he says through a faux chuckle, leaning his head closer to whisper, “the hell are you doing here?”

“He came to piss me off,” you snap, ordering another drink.

“You should go.”

“I think I’m good.”

Nick purses his lips, “hey, is that- is that the woman from the coffee shop?”

Pete’s head snaps up, “What? Where?”

Ron gestures his head to the side.

Nick turns to find Leonard waving him over and gives him an okay hand signal. “Over there. Come on, Mave. Let’s go find her.”

The two disappear from your view.

“What the actual-”

“Language, sweetheart.”

It takes you a few seconds to realize who it is that’s beside you.

Nick and Pete stand in front of Leonard and Ron.

The duke’s son pouts, “where is she?”

The other three glances at one another, ignoring his gaze. “Weren’t you here with, Freezie?”

Ron looks off to the side, pretending to find the lights on the wall more fascinating than this conversation.

“Wolfman?”

The man in question turns to his fellow Top Gun classmate.

“You got any idea what’s going on here?”

He gives Pete a confused look and sprints away, going back to his lady’s choice of the evening.

“Talk to me, Goose.”

“I gotta go. I’m late for trick or treating.”

“Goose! Hey, Goose!”

The two exit the bar in a chaotic fashion.

You slowly turn towards him. “Kazanksy.”

The corner of his lips tugs upwards, he raises his glass in greeting. “Good to see you too… Princess.”

You thin your lips, “really? Did you have to go there?”

“I figured it’d be my only opportunity.”

“You think you’re cute, don’t you?”

He shrugs.

“If you must know, Maverick-”

He chuckles to himself at the call sign, like Nick said, when you’re pissed, you use their call sign, everyone knows it. Everyone.

“Bought me this damn thing when I specifically asked for something scary.” You let out a quiet huff.

“If you asked for that, why’d he get you this?”

You stare at him for a couple of minutes. “He told me dressing up so nice, like a princess, was scary.”

Tom scoffs, “he says a lot of things, but I wouldn’t listen to him.”

“You’re just saying that, so I stop pouting.”

“If anything, it’s to stop talking about Mitchell.”

Before you can even try to fight it, a smile stretches across your lips.

“And you think I’m mean when I bash on him.”

It might be the contents of the drink flooding through your system, but you giggle.

He takes the opportunity to scoot closer to you; a mere few inches separating the two of you. “There’s that gorgeous smile fit for a princess.”

“Does that make you, my prince?”

“I could be, if you let me take you out.”

“Oh wow.”

The humor falls from his face. “Is that- should I not have asked?”

“No,” you shake your head. “I… think I could check my schedule and maybe make some time for you.”

“Is that how it is?” There’s that charm.

“Yeah, do you not like it?”

“Oh, I never said that.” He leans in, whispering in your ear, “how about we ditch this place and you let me take you out tonight?”

You interlock your arm with is, “a poorly costumed zombie and a princess. Who would have thought?”

You owlishly blink, trying to turn the brightness of your phone down. You quietly groan to yourself.

Peaches with the Hat

“How was the date? ;)” 4:51am Sent Read

Combat Wins

“Why are you up?” 4:53am Sent Read

Peaches with the Hat

“Good Halloween… ” 4:53am Sent Read

Combat Wins

“Gross” 4:54am Sent Read

Combat Wins

“How do you know about the date?” 4:56am Sent Read

Peaches with the Hat is typing…

Peaches with the Hat

“I’m superrr tired.” 4:59am Sent Read

An arm pulls you closer to their arm body. He hums against your shoulder. “Who’s that?”

You pat Tom’s sheet covered thigh, “no one we need to worry about right now.” You glance over at the wall, “not until I see him later today.”

His breath hits your skin causing you to shiver. “Cold? Need something to warm you up?”

A smirk tugs at the corner of your lips. “I mean, I am in bed with Ice.”

A loud, annoyed groan escapes him.

“Don’t be like that, you know you like it.”

“I’d like it if we were in a similar situation that we were earlier.”

You hum, turning around so you can be face-to-face with him. “I bet you would.”

He lifts you hand up, placing a kiss on your knuckles. “Hop on.”

You snort, “please tell me you didn’t just say that?”

“I did and I have no regrets.” He lifts your leg, resting your thigh in your hip.

“As much as I would love to go again. We need sleep.”

He maneuvers you onto his lap. “I’m not tired.”

You place your hands on his chest to balance yourself. “How can you still be so cocky?”

“I got a date with a princess.”

“Shut up.” You and he share a laugh before he sits up, pulls you closer, and kisses you like there’s no tomorrow.

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auroracalisto · 1 year

Text

you've got this

tom "iceman" kazansky x gn!reader, 407 words tw: self-doubt, ice skating, mild fear of injury?? a/n: i started this and didn't really know how to end it?? but i thought it would be good to upload anyway. i love ice skating but i haven't done it since high school. iceman would know how to skate. i can feel it in my bones.

"Be careful," Tom said, hands gripping onto your own as you stepped onto the ice. The blades of your skates grate against the thick ice, mild anxiety creeping up your spine (or maybe it was the cold seeping through your coat).

"I know I talked you into this," you said, looking up at him with wide eyes. "But I'm really regretting this."

Tom began to smile. "You? Regretting this? Y/n, don't tell me you'd like to go home now."

You narrowed your eyes at the man. "I'm not about to do that. I'm just..." you trailed off, legs trembling as you tried to keep your balance.

It had been years since you last even set foot on an icerink. How were you supposed to move? How were you supposed to catch yourself if you fell?

"Scared?" Tom's voice rang out.

He couldn't help his smirk as he laced his fingers with yours. He tugged you along, beginning to skate around the ice rink. He lived up to his call name in more ways than once. Iceman. You wondered if a skating rink helped him earn it.

In an instant, you felt yourself lurching forward, skates uprooting on their own accord. You didn't know what to do.

"Tom!"

He pulled you back upright, skates scraping against the ice as he came to a stop.

"You good?"

"Wha—yeah, I'm fine! I just—I can't do this," you said. "I thought I could, but I don't even remember what to do!"

"You're doing great, Y/n."

"I'm going to fall!" you exclaimed, hands gripping his arms.

He couldn't help but smile. His brave partner, so ready to take on the world, was nervous about ice skating. He pulled his arms out of your grasp and placed his hands over your forearms.

"We'll go slow. Nice and steady. No need to rush, baby," he said.

"Tom," you yelped as he pulled you forward, effectively beginning to skate backward. "Tom, you—how are you even doing that?" You looked up at him, bewildered.

"Doing what?"

"Skating like that?"

He just grinned, leaning forward to kiss your cheek. "Just do as I say, okay? You'll learn in no time. I promise."

You huffed out a breath, squeezing your eyes shut before you nodded.

"Okay," you said.

"Okay?"

"Okay. I'm ready. Teach me how to skate."

"That's my baby," he said, smile growing wide as he watched you. "The first thing you're gonna need to do is..."

#iceman #tom kazansky x you #tom kazansky x gn!reader #tom kazansky x reader #reader insert #gn!reader #iceman x gn!reader #iceman imagine #iceman fanfic #iceman x reader #tom iceman kazansky #tom iceman kazansky x reader #x reader #top gun #top gun x reader #val kilmer #fanfic

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witchwyfe · 2 months

Text

here with me - tik

pairing - college! Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky x female reader

précis - mav makes a bet during the soccer's teams getaway.

content/warnings - language, annoyance towards maverick, fluff

word count - 933

a/n - college soccer player ice series

“Okay, you know this is actually really stupid.” You complain, curled up in the backseat of Carole’s car. “Everyone else wants to sleep together, why can’t we?”

“You know how the guys are,” Ice huffs from the other end of the phone. “They’re turning it into a competition.”

“Yeah, and who’s idea was it?” You scoff. “Maverick’s. He’s single and an asshole, he doesn’t have any stake in the game, of course he would propose something like this.”

Something like this being, for your autumn break trip to a cabin, sleeping arrangements are all girls together, and all boys together. Despite the fact, that the trip is made up of some of the soccer team, and their girlfriends. Mav even thought it would be funny to have whoever caves first, buy everyone dinner on the last night.

You sigh loudly, ignoring Carole’s chuckle from the driver’s seat. Her and Goose finally got their shit together, and they’ve been happily dating since summer.

“And of course you won’t crack, because you love to win.” You whine pitifully, more to yourself than your boyfriend. “I’ll see you when we get there.”

You hang up and shove your phone into your purse, leaning your head against the window, watching a flurry of orange as you pass a multitude of trees.

Not much more time passes before you’re pulling up at the cabin, clearly the last ones there, if the amount of cars shoved into the dirt driveway, is anything to go by.

Ice, Goose, and Slider are quick to come out and help with the bags in the back of Carole’s trunk.

“Hiya honey,” Goose greets, before dipping Carole in a dramatic kiss. You turn to see Ice, and pout, before falling into his arms.

“Hey baby,” He murmurs, pressing a kiss at your hairline.

“Icey,” You whine. “Missed you.”

“Pretty girl.” He coos. “I missed you too.”

Following a week of mid-terms, you’d barely gotten to see your boyfriend. Both of you had stacked schedules with exams and papers, and Ice had a big game right before break began. You were looking forward to a long weekend with him, snuggled into his arms while you sleep, the way you hadn’t been able to.

His arms squeeze easily around your waist, and he lifts you a bit until you can’t help but smile. You fist your hands in the material of his sweatshirt.

“Was lookin’ forward to sleeping with you this weekend.” You tell him quietly. “I didn’t sleep well last week.”

“I know, me too.” He says, lips at your temple. “I’m sorry angel.”

“Not your fault your friends are stupid.”

He chuckles, squeezing you one more time before setting you down. He grabs your duffel bag and purse, waiting for you to shut your car door, before heading inside.

“Carole and I are sharing a room, I think,” You frown. “That’s what Marcy said in the group chat.” Marcy, Slider’s girlfriend, was also very upset about the sleeping arrangements, had coordinated which room everyone is staying in. Your boyfriend nods and continues in, before stopping at a room and gently setting your bags down.

You notice two beds, neither much bigger than a twin, but still an upgrade from the college dorm bed Ice had snuck in, to share with you countless times the previous year.

“Look baby,” You whine. “We could totally fit in here, you always cuddle up anyway.”

“I know, sweet girl,” He soothes with a kiss to your temple.

Carole comes in a second later, Goose rolling her suitcase while she spouts similar complaints that you had.

“Just because Mav isn’t getting any, doesn’t mean he has to ruin it for the rest of us.” She huffs, crossing her arms against her chest. Goose barely bites back his snort, throwing his head back in laughter before Carole sticks a withering glare on him.

You nod in agreement, turning towards her. “That’s what I was just telling him, I mean why did anyone invite him anyway? He’s fucking annoying.”

“Okay,” Ice warns softly. “Not that I don’t currently share the sentiment, but Mav’s room is right down the hall and I’m sure he can hear us.��

You roll your eyes but oblige, leaning into him. “Are we allowed to sit together on the couch at least?”

You packed everything you need for your night time routine and to sleep. Your face is washed, teeth are brushed, and now you’re scrolling on your phone, trying to chill before bed. Carole had long snuck out of your room and into Goose’s—you wish your boyfriend didn’t take everything so seriously. Goose laughed in Mav’s face when he proposed the competition—so it’s too quiet and you don’t have anyone to talk to. Right in the middle of your scroll through Tik Tok, your phone buzzes with a text.

I miss u

You smile, imagining your boyfriend curled up in his bed, missing you enough to send you text.

Come in

You respond.

Carole left. We can push the beds together :)

He sends back:

We don’t need that much room.

Less than a minute later, your door is being pushed open and your boyfriend, clad in boxers and an old crewneck is suddenly sliding in behind you, arms circling your waist.

“Missed you.” He mumbles into your neck, the tip of his nose cold against the skin.

“You’re not allowed to agree to any of Mav’s dumb bets, ever again.” You grumble. “Last time you had to bleach your hair and now this.”

“I know baby,” He coos. “No more, I promise.”

#mine #my work #my writing #witchwyfe writing #witchwyfe #tom iceman kazansky #tom iceman kazansky x reader #tom iceman kazansky x you #tom iceman kazansky imagine #tom iceman kazansky oneshot #tom iceman kazansky fanfiction #tom kazansky x reader #tom kazansky x you #tom kazansky imagine #tom kazansky oneshot #tom kazansky fanfiction #iceman x reader #iceman oneshot

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topgun-imagines · 7 months

Text

Day 6: Part Of Me

Pairing: Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky x fem!reader

Synopsis: When you wake up to horrific pain in the middle of the night, you immediately know what’s wrong.

Warnings: Miscarriage, blood, death, panic attack, mention of hospitals, mental breakdown & descriptions of pain.

Word count: 1.5k

The world around you was calm. For 3:17, that was perfectly normal. A soft breeze flitted through the open window, making you shiver in your sleep and curl into Tom. Even in his sleep, his arm tightened around you. For the first time in what felt like weeks, you were finally at peace. With Tom’s never-ending workload, the two of you could hardly ever find time just for yourselves. So, you relished these moments. Even if you were simply sleeping next to him, the two of you were together and that was all you could have needed.

This was the kind of peace you longed for. Being held like this, in his arms, didn’t get to happen very often due to his busy schedule. Oftentimes, he was on the other side of the world on a ship, making it hard for the two of you to even say goodnight. It was safe to say that being snuggled against his warm skin was a pleasant change of pace.

Tom lay sound asleep next to you, flimsy sheet draped across his waist and soft snores falling from his parted lips. No matter how peaceful the outside world appeared, that was far from the truth. Even your fiancé was blissfully unaware of the moment you woke up in a stomach-churning pain that left you breathless. Regardless of the cool sea breeze blowing through the window, your skin was warm and sticky. Sharp gasps escaped you and tears welled in your eyes at the immense pain.

You didn’t know what to do. Panic began to flood through you. Without making a sound, you hobbled out of the bed, hardly able to walk. You paused and flicked on the lamp. The sight on your side of the bed almost had you collapsing onto the ground.

It had been two months since you found out that you were pregnant and it had been the happiest eight weeks of your life. Now, however, you were watching all of that come crashing down around you. You had read every book on pregnancy you could find and as much as you wanted to deny it, you knew exactly what was happening.

You had heard horror stories of women miscarrying. Stories of nights where everything seemed fine at first, only for them to be in the hospital a few hours later. Tom had assured you that that would never be the case with you. Oh how wrong he was. You should have seen this coming when it was so difficult to get pregnant. You should have known. How could you have been so careless? This was all your fault.

The thought had you shaking, hand clasped over your mouth tightly. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t stifle your sobs. You were crying hysterically now as the reality of the situation sunk in.

You had lost your baby.

You did everything right. You had made sure to follow every rule, no matter how foolish or silly or redundant you thought it was, you followed it. Every. Single. Rule. Even random advice from family members that had absolutely no business being a fact. You still followed and listened. All because you wanted to keep your baby safe. Now, it seemed as if none of that mattered.

Through the thoughts racing around your mind, you couldn’t hear the way you were nearly hyperventilating. But Tom did. Within seconds of sitting up groggily, he was by your side. Your sobs only grew louder at the feeling of his gentle touch. You had failed. You had failed him. Why was he comforting you? Surely you didn’t deserve it. He would pull away when he finally understood. You were positive.

Only, he never did pull back. Not even when you tried to tell him what was wrong. “Ice-” You gasped through your sobs, struggling to breathe properly. All he did was hold you tiger, tears of his own welling in his eyes. They were fixated on your side of the bed. He was staring at the dark spot on the crisp white sheets; the spot that was covered in blood.

Ever so slowly, the tears began leaking down his face. “I know, baby,” It was softer than a whisper but it spoke volumes. Together, the two of you sobbed as his head collapsed into the crook of your neck. “I know.”

When you let out a sound akin to a scream was the moment that Tom finally rose from the ground. His movements were quick as he helped you to your feet, helping you change from your flimsy shorts into a loose pair of his sweats. Soft words of assurance were whispered against your temple as Ice picked you up bridal style and carried you to the car. Deep down, you knew that he was much more terrified than he was letting on, but he was keeping a brave face for you. In your hazy mind, you couldn’t find the words to thank him.

In the air, Ice was a very calm and collected man. One of the most important things to him was his ability to follow rules to the letter. He never let anything mess him up, not even Maverick. But now, he was breaking more than several traffic laws to get you to the hospital quickly. Right now, he didn’t care how recklessly he had to drive, he was going to get you to that hospital.

Within ten minutes, Ice was parking the car in front of the doors. It was hard to focus on anything but the pain surging through your body, setting your nerve endings ablaze. Once again, you were lifted into his arms and rushed into the building. “Help!” Even through your unfocused, fuzzy mind, you could hear his cry for help. At this point you were delirious. Your head lolled against his chest and you seemed seconds away from passing out. “Please! She needs help!” The last thing you saw before everything went dark was the concerned face of your fiancé.

When you woke up, you were no longer in pain. Honestly, you weren’t quite sure if that was good or bad. The second you were coherent enough, you were looking for Tom. After everything that had happened tonight, all you needed was your pilot.

Unsurprisingly, you didn’t have to look far. Ice was sitting in an uncomfortable plastic chair beside your hospital bed. The sight of him sitting with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands instantly formed a pit in your stomach. Of course, Ice was a serious person. But after a night like this, he wouldn’t be sitting like that if it wasn’t bad news. Almost instinctively, your hand reached down to hold your stomach. The joy you once felt from touching the area that held your baby never came.

“I’m so sorry,” Tom’s head snapped up so fast that you were surprised he didn’t get whiplash. The man was by your side in an instant. There was a look in his eyes, one that you had never seen before. It only added fuel to the fire. “It’s all my fault.”

That had him shaking his head adamantly. This was a terrible turn of events but he would never, ever, blame it on you. Unshed tears lined his eyes, clinging to his dark lashes. “No, baby,” Delicately, Ice reached up to cup your cheek. His tears began to fall. Not very long after, yours followed suit. “It’s not your fault. You couldn't have done anything to stop it.” While his words were supposed to be comforting, they had just confirmed your worst fear. Your baby was gone.

“Listen to me,” He tried again to comfort you, both hands cupping your cheeks and using his thumbs to wipe away your tears. “There was nothing we could have done.” Whispered words of assurance did little to calm your racing mind. How did he know that? How did he know for certain that there was nothing that you could have done better to keep your baby safe?

The sad smile on his face was the straw that broke the camel's back. You burst into tears once more. That was how the two of you remained for as long as you could remember. Your head in the crook of his neck, his hand on the back of your head and arms wrapped tight around you as the two of you snuggled on the scratchy hospital sheets. You were sure that your combined cries were loud enough to be heard on the other side of the hospital. Even so, you couldn’t find it in you to care. And as a nurse passed by the closed door, her heart broke for the couple inside. The couple that had just lost their baby girl.

a/n: hope you enjoyed! Join the taglist!

Tagging: @ohtobeleah @xoxabs88xox @els-marvelvsp @kmc1989 @nyx2021

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topguncortez · 1 year

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Ice Cold, No Mistakes - T. Kazansky

pairing: Tom "Iceman" Kazansky x Female!Reader warnings: death, grief, sadness, angst, TOPGUN shit word count: 1.6k Iceman Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“Ice, why are you so cold?”

It was the age old question that everyone dared to ask. What made Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky so cold? People over the years had speculated what caused him to be so closed off and fly with the precision that he did.

Some suggested it was daddy issues. His old man must’ve been a hardass and instilled that Ice could only be the best. That his dad was mentally abusive, calling Ice names when he was anything less than perfect or had too much feeling. Some even suggested that Ice’s dad was living vicariously through him, which made him work even harder because letting him down would be the last thing that Ice would want.

The other rumor was that it was his mom. That his mom was some sort of leech, maybe a drunk or a druggie that constantly needed money. That he grew up poor because his mother was spending every dime on vodka and coke. So Ice worked hard to get himself through the academy, and into flight school and then ultimately into TopGun. And with all the money that Ice was making, he sent some of it back home to pay his mother’s bills and keep a roof over her head, and to help her survive on her addiction problems.

But both the family rumors turned out to be just that. . . rumors. Goose had met Iceman’s parents at their graduation, and it promptly shut down those bad/toxic parenting stories. Ice’s parents were nothing like him, they were warm, caring individuals from a small town on the east coast. His mother was a school teacher and his father a banker. Some of the questions on Ice’s cold personality were answered, but not all of them.

So what made Tom Kazansky so cold?

Well, that could be answered with a simple explanation: it was her.

No one had asked questions about the picture of the girl in his locker. It wasn’t uncommon for the pilots to stick pictures of their families inside their lockers. It was a reminder of their loved ones and who they had waiting on them at home. No asked. . . until one day Maverick did.

“So, who’s the girl, Kazansky?” Maverick asked, shucking off of his flight suit. Slider froze next to his pilot, waiting for Ice to come off his rocker. The last time someone asked about the photo, Ice had ripped them a new one, and everyone in their last squadron knew not to ask about the girl in the picture.

Iceman’s blue eyes looked over at the polaroid that was taped to the door. Her bright smile always made him feel warm, and the little girl next to her eyes were bright and filled with love. Iceman clenched his jaw and shut his locker slowly.

“No one.” Ice mumbled and walked out of the locker room.

“Ice, I’m-”

“Do yourself a favor, Mitchell,” Slider said, “Don’t ask about the girl in the picture.”

Maverick nodded and watched as Slider went after his pilot. Maverick knew that his curiosity should end right then and there. That he shouldn’t pry into the life of his competition, but he couldn’t just let it be. If this was a chance to get a one up on Iceman, then he was going to take it. He knew that there was one person, besides Slider, that new Iceman well enough to possibly know about the girl in the picture.

“No, I’m not telling you,” Goose said, ignoring his pilot.

“You need to, it’s life or death.”

Goose gave Maverick a look.

“Okay, not life or death but still.”

Goose sighed and leaned back in his chair, “No one talks about the girl in the picture. It’s just. . . it’s just never talked about. All you need to know is that he takes that picture everywhere. He had it back at the academy, he had it in flight school, hell I think if his house caught on fire the one thing he’d rush into save, is that picture.”

Maverick nodded, the gears turning in his head. He looked up at his RIO and gave him a smirk, “Thank you, Goose.”

“Hey, I don’t like that look, Mav!” Goose pointed, sitting up straight, “What are you going to do?”

“Nothing,” Maverick said, but Goose knew better than to trust him.

And Goose should’ve stopped him, but he didn’t think that his pilot would go as far as breaking into Ice’s locker and taking the picture until the next day when Ice stormed into the classroom, anger and fury in his eyes.

“Where the fuck is Mitchell?” Ice yelled and Maverick slowly turned around, a smirk on his face which was quickly wiped off by Ice’s fist to his jaw.

“What the fuck!”

“Where’s my fucking picture!?” Ice yelled, grabbing Maverick by the collar and slamming him up against the wall. Other pilots quickly scrambled to try and break up the fight waiting to happen.

“Kazansky!” Jester yelled.

“I know you fucking have it,” Ice seethed, “Give it back.”

“Why Kazansky? What’s got you so fucking tense about a goddamn picture?” Maverick jeered, hoping to get a rise out of him. They both knew that if a fight broke out, they would be kicked out of the program.

“Kazansky,” Jester said again, taking a step closer. Ice’s jaw was clenched so tightly, it was a miracle he wasn’t breaking teeth.

Ice looked down for a moment, weighing his options, before letting go of Maverick’s tan button up, and walking away. Slider glared at Maverick, before chasing after his pilot. And the look in Goose’s eyes was one Maverick had never seen before, the look of pure disappointment.

“I’m not sure what happened,” Jester said, “But return Kazansky’s belongings as soon as possible or you’ll both be tossed out.”

It was the last thing he wanted to do, but Maverick didn’t want to run the risk and get kicked out of the program he dreamed of going to. So later that night, he swallowed his pride and walked towards Iceman’s room, the picture in his hand. Maverick sighed as he knocked on the door. He jumped back a bit when it was ripped open, a half naked Tom Kazansky standing in front of him in just his boxers. Ice’s hair was a mess, his blue eyes red and so was his nose. This wasn’t like him at all.

“I brought-” Maverick held up the picture, and Iceman quickly ripped it out of his hands.

“Don’t ever touch my stuff again,” Iceman seethed, “Or the next time, I won’t stop because Jester says so.”

Maverick nodded and Ice turned to shut the door, but he held his hand out stopping him. Ice sighed and faced him.

“What, Mitchell,” Ice demanded.

“Why is that picture so important to you that you’d throw everything away?” Maverick asked.

Ice let out a sigh as he looked down at the picture in his hand. Neither one of them would want him acting like this, so eager to throw in the towel just to be with them.

“Y/N, She was my wingman,” Ice said, his voice filled with sadness, “She was my wingman before I was even a pilot. She was going to fly with me, be my backseater. She was determined to be the first woman in the program, and I think she would’ve done it.”

“And the little girl?”

Ice looked up at Maverick, tears rolling down his cheeks, “My daughter.” He looked back down at the picture and sniffed, “We had her in high school. Everyone said it was a mistake, but she wasn’t. . . she was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“What happened?” Maverick’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“Graduation weekend,” Ice answered, “We had been at a small party my family was hosting. It just happened to be Lydia’s second birthday. God, she was so excited to be two,” Ice smiled at the brief memory of how happy he had been that whole weekend. Not only had Y/N and Ice both graduated high school and were taking steps to start the next chapter in their lives, and Ice got to celebrate yet another year of being a father. Sure he was young, but to him that didn’t mean anything. Lydia was perfect, she had been the best baby ever, but she was becoming the best toddler ever, hitting every single milestone and then some. She was so smart, something that she had gotten from her mother, and sassy, something she had gotten from her father.

“It happened so quick,” Ice’s voice cracked, “One minute, we were on top of the world, singing along to that damn Queen song and then. . . the car came out of nowhere.”

Maverick watched as the cold, tough exterior of his enemy came crashing down. The picture fluttered out of Ice’s hand as he covered his face and cried. Sobs racked his body, and Maverick bent down to pick up the picture, gingerly handing it back to Ice.

“He took them both,” Ice whispered, and wiped his face on his arm, “Y/N was killed instantly, he hit on her side. Lydia. . . she fought hard for three days, but her little body couldn’t handle the injuries. I buried them both on the same day.”

“Ice, I am so-”

“I fly the way I do because I can’t afford to make mistakes,” Ice said, and turned to face Maverick, “Because that’s what he did. He made the mistake of getting in his car that night and it cost me everything. I refuse to be the reason why someone has to bury the people that they love. I refuse to make mistakes because it kills people.”

Maverick nodded, now understanding a whole new side of Tom “Iceman” Kazansky.

“Again, I’m sorry for your loss, Tom,” Maverick said, and took a step back.

“Thank you, Pete,” Ice responded, and closed the door. He leaned his back against the door and slowly slid down to the ground, clutching the picture to his chest.

note: I'm back bitches

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callsign-joyride · 1 year

Text

No Doubt About It | T.K.

Summary: You tell Tom that you're pregnant right before Maverick's surprise party.

Pairing: Tom "Iceman" Kazansky x f!reader (no use of Y/N)

Content warnings: Pregnancy, talk of pregnancy, fluff

Word count: 797

“I don’t know, Carol. There’s something different about this detachment. Nick and Mav just got back and I know Tom’s got another two weeks, but I’m more worried about him than usual.”

“You’re pregnant. How long have you guys been trying?”

“We started this time a month ago. But you know that people don’t always get pregnant on the first try, so I don’t even know why that’s part of the question.”

“Take a pregnancy test. It’ll at least answer one of your questions.”

You wanted to wait for Tom to come home before you took the first pregnancy test. That wasn’t how things were going to go when you stayed up for most of the night wondering if you were pregnant or not. Carol had a point. You called her and Charlie over when you decided to take one of the tests.

Waiting was the most stressful part. You couldn’t sit still for the five minutes that it took for the results to come in. You almost jumped off of the couch when the timer went off. As you looked at the test in the bathroom, you realized that you couldn’t really see if there was a second line or not.

“Here, you’ve been pregnant. Tell me if you see two lines or not,” you said as you handed the test to Carol. She chuckled and turned on the main light in the living room to get a better view. She showed the test to Charlie and they both started giggling.

“What is it? Come on, I can’t wait,” you said.

“You’re pregnant,” Carol said.

“Yeah, you keep saying that but I don’t - oh.”

Two weeks went by in a blur. You had to swear Carol to secrecy on the whole thing. Charlie wouldn’t tell anyone, but if Carol told Nick, it wasn’t going to be long before all of Top Gun knew. You were able to pick Tom up in the late morning, which gave the two of you some time together before you had to put the final touches on the surprise party for Maverick. In everything that you did, it felt like there wasn’t a good time to tell him.

Both of you slept until late the next morning. Tom had decided to make a quick trip to the grocery store to get some food for breakfast and lunch. He was slightly confused when he came back to see you on the couch, laughing with Carol and Charlie.

“What’s all this about?” He asked.

“We’re trying to finish planning Mav’s surprise party on Saturday. Goose and Bradley are in the backyard,” you explained.

“I don’t want to go. I just wanted to spend the next few days with you before I gotta go back to work.”

“Yeah, well, you’re going because I’m going. I’m not drinking, either.”

“You’re gonna deal with Mav sober? I can barely handle Mav while I’m sober.”

You looked at Carol and Charlie before smiling.

“Well, someone’s gotta get you home and I’m pregnant.”

Tom’s jaw dropped and you laughed.

“Wait wait wait. Back up,” he said.

“Someone’s gotta get you home?” You asked.

“No, after that.”

“I’m pregnant,” you said. More laughter ensued as he asked you how you could’ve been pregnant. (“I’m pretty sure you were there.”) He walked over and gave you a hug. Words couldn’t describe how happy the two of you were in that moment.

Mav’s surprise party rolled around, and you had been the one in charge of bringing the cases of soda. Tom would barely let you lift a finger as the two of you got out of the car and he went for both cases of soda, leaving you to carry the gift.

“Babe, I’m barely eight weeks pregnant. I can carry the sodas,” you said.

“Yeah, but I don’t want you to.”

With the party in full swing, you stood with Tom and Slider. Tom had his arm around your waist while he was holding a bottle of water.

“Alright, man. We’ve got another surprise for you,” Goose told Mav.

“Uh, okay. What is it?”

“Ice and his girl.”

“Oh my God, did they break up? They look real chummy if they broke up. Why would you tell me that on my birthday?!”

“No, no, they didn’t break up. She’s pregnant.”

“Goose, that’s worse! We’re gonna have an Ice junior running around here in a couple months! Again, why are you delivering this news on my birthday of all days?”

Goose’s laugh distracted you from the conversation that you were having with Slider. You looked in his direction and saw a shocked look on Mav’s face, and you couldn’t help but let out a little chuckle at the situation.

“What is it?” Tom asked.

“I think Goose just told Mav.”

Taglist:

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#top gun #top gun fic #tom kazansky x reader #iceman x reader #tom iceman kazansky #top gun 86 #top gun imagines #x reader #reader insert #tom kazansky x you

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ddejavvu · 1 year

Note

AUATRSHUKDD I <3 YOUR WRITING!!!

could I pls req ice w hurt comfort? like 4 reader?

THANKU

join top gun night!

You're not sure anything hurts worse than a paper cut. You think you'd rather get a bullet to the chest than the slit that currently runs up your knuckle, blood oozing out in copious amounts.

"Shit," You breathe, dropping the envelope you'd just torn open. It lands on the table with an unceremonious smack, a bill yet to be paid laying inside.

At first, Tom thinks you're just upset about the price. You'd run up the A/C more than usual this month, but it's nothing you can't handle, which is why he's especially worried when you scurry off to the bathroom.

"Babe?" He calls after you, newspaper in hand. When you don't answer and he hears the rattling of metal inside the medicine cabinet, he tosses the paper aside, steps quick on the path to the bathroom.

He finds you hunched over the sink, water running red as it flows off of your hand. His eyes widen and he rushes for a band-aid, seeing an open one on the counter.

He peels off the wax strips over the stickers, "What happened?"

"Papercut," You rasp, voice thick with displeasure as the cut burns your nerves, "And I thought the triple digits were gonna be the worst thing about that bill."

He lets out a chuckle, if only to make you feel better about the searing pain in your hand. In reality the situation is far-from-funny, and his fingers shake as he holds the bandage ready for you.

"Dry it off," He instructs, handing you the towel. His face is pinched into a slight frown and he watches you intently as you press the towel to your finger, eyes locked on the line of red that immediately reappears when the towel is gone.

"Hurry," You urge as he wraps your cut, conscious of how tight he curls the bandage around your finger. He makes sure it doesn't turn colors, but the band-aid does as your blood seeps right through the pad and trickles down your finger again.

"Damn," You breathe, but Tom beats you to the towel. He holds pressure to your wound, finally glancing up at your face when he has a secure hold on your finger.

His eyes rove your features, locking onto your own and noticing unshed tears lining them. He clicks his tongue off of the roof of his mouth, reaching up with his free hand to brush his knuckle against your waterline.

"I'm sorry, honey." He murmurs, voice soft and sweet. It's heart-warming to hear such a sappy tone from Tom, though it's not like he's ever directed anything particularly brash at you. He pulls your hand up by the grip he's got on your finger, aiming your knuckles at his face and puckering his lips to press a kiss to the peaks.

It's comforting, and diverts your attention from the pain in your finger. His grip is firm but gentle, and the dull ache left behind by the papercut ebbs away as he replaces it with butterflies in your stomach. His lips are soft, because you've told him that if they ever get too chapped, you won't kiss him. He gets teased for applying chapstick in the locker rooms but you remind him Maverick doesn't even have a girlfriend to kiss, so he shouldn't rely too heavily on the man's opinions.

As fantastic as they feel on your hand, they feel even better on your own lips. He steps closer to you in the cramped bathroom, tile biting into his bare feet with a cold chill that runs through his veins. The soft press of your lips against his restores the warmth, though, and his hand on your waist provides you with the same comfort. It's a soft, sweet, sappy kiss, and your eyes drift shut with serenity.

It's moments like this that remind you you want to marry Tom. And you will, if the little box in his dresser you'd stumbled upon only days prior meant anything. Something giddy pushes at your chest, expanding your heart until it's bursting out of your chest. It prompts you to flutter your eyes open, and a soft puff of air from your nose makes Tom do the same.

He smiles at you, close-lipped and dreamy. You peck his grin once more for good measure, and only then realize that he's still holding your papercut.

You pry the towel off of your hand, peeling the old, soiled bandage off and tossing it into the garbage. You glance down at your now-clotted cut, no longer spouting fresh blood, only caked in dried rust-colored stains.

"You cured me," You laugh softly, an exhale from your dewy lips, "If this pilot thing doesn't work out, you should be a doctor on base."

"I can't go around kissing all of my patients," He reasons with a smile, unwrapping another bandage, "Besides, I think that means I'd have to see Goose about twelve more times a day than I do now."

"You like Goose," You remind him, fondness in your chest for the jovial man, "You wouldn't mind."

"I would if I had to kiss him," Tom sticks the new bandage on with a proud pat to the seam, "Too much mustache for my taste."

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