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topgun-imagines · 7 months

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Day 10: Blood In The Water

Pairings: Nick ‘Goose’ Bradshaw x sister!reader, Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky x fem!reader

Synopsis: What would have happened if it was you, Ice’s RIO, in that flat spin instead of Goose?

Warnings: mentions of death, panic attacks, crying, fainting, engine failure & plane crashes.

Note: wouldn’t mind expanding on this one after whumptober if people are interested

Word count: 1.3k

“Come on, Mav!” You called from behind Ice. The two of you were currently flying right behind Maverick, the arrogant pilot having cut you off to get a shot on the bogey. After many attempts, he was unsuccessful and now refusing to move to let you and Iceman get the shot. He was too close to get a proper shot lined up. The pissing contest between the two was really starting to get out of hand. “Get the hell out of there!”

With a roll of your eyes, you gave up on yelling at your brother's best friend and spoke to Ice instead. After little encouragement from you, it was his turn to yell at Maverick. “Mav! Come off high right,” You grinned, ready for Ice to make the shot. However, Mav insisted that he only needed five more seconds. “Come off high right, Mav. I’m in.” Everything seemed to be going fine. You and Ice were about to make the shot, putting you on top of the scoreboard.

But in the blink of an eye, everything went to hell.

“I’m off. Shit!” Maverick hissed, quickly pulling up and to the right. For a second, you were elated. This was the point that would put you over the edge. You were seconds away from winning the Top Gun trophy. That was before your stomach dropped and you realized what exactly was happening.

You froze, eyes screwed shut as you screamed at Ice. “We’re in his jet wash!” Distantly, you heard Ice curse in front of you. Your head was pounding against your skull, horror surging through your veins. The only thing you could do was hope that Ice could pull you out of it. This was not good. You peeled your eyes open when you heard a sensor going off. “Shit! We’ve got a flame out, Ice!” More sensors went off as your jet continued to spiral. “Engine one is out! Engine two is out!”

It was then that you heard the words you never wanted to hear from your pilot. He called your name in a rush. “I’m losing control, I’m losing control!” The panic in his voice was unlike anything you had ever heard before. “I ca- I can’t control it! It won’t recover!” He cussed again as the jet spun uncontrollably through the air.

You looked up with tears in your eyes, watching the view from the canopy switch from the dark ocean below to the bright blue sky. “We’re out of control! This is not good!” Before you could stop it, a sob bubbled out of your chest. It wasn’t often that you cried, and you knew that Ice needed you to be level-headed, but you couldn’t help yourself. You were about to die.

When Ice heard you crying behind him, it was as if something clicked in his mind. Suddenly, you stopped spinning. Now your jet was headed straight for the ocean. As a kid, you loved the water; splashing around in it with your brother. Now? Not so much. Through heavy breaths, you blinked sluggishly. Everything felt funny. Your head became fuzzy, it was harder to breathe and you felt sick to your stomach.

And then everything went dark.

In front of you, Ice was focused on pulling the two of you out of the flat spin. The two of you were going to make it through this. He was sure of it.

Only one hundred meters away, Goose watched, helpless as his baby sister and her pilot spun out of control. He would never tell Maverick this, but if there was one person that he was confident could recover from a flat spin, it was Iceman. When you had followed Goose to the academy only a few years after him, needless to say, he was worried. He was even more worried when you were paired with the infamous Iceman. After all, you were his baby sister. Nick Bradshaw would lay his life down to protect you. And everyone knew that.

One night, only a few days after you and Iceman had been paired up, Goose approached the cocky pilot that he considered his friend. Regardless of the fact that some would have assumed that Goose was really questioning Ice’s skill, Ice knew that your brother was simply looking out for you. And that was something that he could understand. That night, your pilot had promised to protect you with his life. If he could help it, no harm would ever come to you.

A few months later, Goose met Maverick. Even though Mav wasn’t at the academy, the two grew inseparable almost instantly. You had met Mav many times before being reunited with the pilot at Top Gun, however, he had never met your pilot. When you walked into the first class only a few weeks ago, Maverick’s jaw dropped at the sight of you strutting in with Iceman’s arm thrown over your shoulders. Needless to say, he was a bit jealous.

Maverick was never a religious man. But now, even he was praying that Ice could pull this off. Right now, his ego didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except for saving you and Iceman. Did he like the pilot? No. Did that mean that he wanted to watch him crash into the ocean? Hell no. Especially not if it meant you were going with him. You and Goose were the only family he had left. He wasn’t about to lose you.

“Mayday! Mayday! Ice is in trouble!” Simultaneously, Maverick and Goose’s jaws dropped. They both watched Ice pull off a miracle. Your jet was no longer spinning out of control. Instead, it was rising steadily. Even over the coms, they could hear Ice breathe a sigh of relief. But they weren't quite done yet. The next step was getting all four of you back to land without another incident.

Back on land, you were lying on the tarmac, out cold with Ice, Mav, and your brother hovering protectively over you. Ever so slowly, you blinked your eyes open, gasping quietly at the sight of the three aviators hovering over you. You only had a second to process what was happening before Goose collapsed onto you, clinging to you for dear life. There was a small smile on your face as you hugged him back.

Ice and Maverick sat back on their heels and made eye contact. Where there normally would have been anger or disdain, there was now thankfulness and understanding. A nod was shared between the two. And then your brother was launching himself at Iceman. Chuckling at the sight of your pilot's shocked face, you sat up slowly with the help of Mav. Ice shot a dazzling smile at you from over your brother’s shoulder and patted his back in reassurance.

“Thank you,” Goose pulled back, his expression as serious as you had ever seen it. “Thank you so much for keeping her safe.” Everyone’s expressions became sombre at the reality of what could have happened. Ice only nodded at your brother.

You were the next to hug him, falling into his arms and sniffling into his chest. His strong arms wrapped securely around you, keeping you anchored to the ground, to him. You could have sworn you heard him sniffle, but no one else ever had to know. When you sniffled again, holding him tighter, he rocked the two of you back and forth. And neither your brother, nor Maverick, needed to know that he pressed a delicate kiss to your temple seconds later.

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

Tagging: @ohtobeleah @xoxabs88xox @bradleybeachbabe @oldermenaremyreligion @els-marvelvsp @kmc1989 @nyx2021 @mploopssek @callsignharper @seitmai @kellyls04 @scarletmeii @inkandarsenic

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multifandomworldsposts · 7 months

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Day 8 of Kinktober: Taking Polaroids with Iceman

pairing: tom ‘iceman’ kazansky x fem!reader

warning: doing pornography, unprotected sex

Y/N’s POV

Tom got a polaroid camera a couple days ago and he’s been wanting to take pictures of us. One night he wanted to take pictures of me.

“Why can’t we do this tomorrow?” I sigh.

“Because I want the pictures in advance.” He says setting the camera on his nightstand.

“When are you going to the Navel Base?” I ask.

“In 2 weeks Y/N/N. You remember right?” He said.

I forgot all about that. Tom really didn’t remind me about the Navel Base since he told me at first.

“I forgot Tom, I’m sorry.” I said crest his right cheek.

“You’re alright, so about those pictures.” He says getting out of the bed to get the camera.

I watch him get the camera, I don’t know what to do.

“What do you want me to do?” I sit up to face him.

“Anything you want to do.” Tom says.

Tom checks the camera to make sure it’s okay to use the camera.

“You ready?” He says getting on the bed.

“I hope Tom.” I say nervously.

“Don’t get nervous, it’s just me honey.” He says to me.

I take a deep breath, I don’t know why I’m getting nervous.

I take my clothes off including my bra and panties. Tom makes me lay down and tells me to put one of my arms on my head. He sits almost next to me and takes the picture. When it got developed he shows me the picture, I look surprisingly good.

He makes me get on my side and lay down so he can see my whole body. I got more comfortable with him taking the pictures and I made some poses up like, showing off my breasts and showing off my cunt to him. One picture he took of me spreading my legs to show off my perfect body he says, even though I always thought I look terrible.

I get up from a pose and try to get the camera out of his hands but I hear the noise that the picture was taken.

“What’re doing?” Tom asked.

“Can I take pictures of you now? I would like some of you naked.” I say to him.

“Y/N/N-“

“Please?” I pout.

“Fine, you know how to check that there’s more film in it?” He asked.

“Not really Tom.” I said.

Tom gives me some film and shows me on what to do and when I figured it out, I made Tom go on the bed and I straddle him. I told him to do something and he hides his face. I took a picture of him like that and made him do something else. Making him look like he was touching himself. He grabs the camera out of my hand and took a picture of me looking at him with my nipples showing.

After those pictures he wanted me in lingerie so I wore the lingerie that makes him go crazy. He made me go to the mirror and pose in front of it. After that photo, he approaches me and attacks my neck with kisses and hickeys, I lift my right hand to tug on his hair, made my head lay back so it can be on his left shoulder and I moan. He unzips the lingerie, I look at him in the mirror.

“I think we need to do something than taking pictures.” Tom whispers in my ear.

“And what’s that babe?” I look up at him.

“Remember our promise?” He said setting his nose on my cheek.

I try to think, “What’s our promise?” I say.

“Before I leave for the Navel Base, we promised that we can finally make love without protection.” He said.

“But what if something bad happens?” I ask.

“We’re doing it without protection, anything could happen.” He makes us do nose to nose.

I love this man with all my heart, of course I would love to have a baby with him but I’m afraid that he won’t come back to see him or her.

“Make love to me soldier.” I stand in front of him.

He picks me up to set me on our dresser and gets my lingerie off my body and I help him. When he got it off he grabs me to set me on our bed and then he takes us to our pillows to lay me on them. He kisses my neck and I moan. He positions himself to make love to me, he goes slowly first, I moan. I can feel his groans on my skin. I follow his lead and gasp as he goes a little faster. Tom gives me more love bites on the parts of my body he didn’t give me, I wrap my legs around his waist and then he fucks me.

“Oh god. Tom, go faster.” I moan.

He goes faster. I can feel his cum inside me.

“Tom, I need to cum.” I whimper.

“Then do it baby, no one’s going to stop you.” He whispers in my still fucking me.

I came, I scratched his back that made him groan into my chest.

When we stopped, all you can hear is heavy breathing, I’m going to miss him so much and his fucking me all day, I want him to fuck again but we’re both too tired to do it.

“That felt different Tom.” I said looking down at him.

“It felt good didn’t it?” He smirks.

I just giggle.

“I’m going to miss you Tom.” I said.

“I’m going to miss you too princess.” He says.

“Are you still going by Iceman like you did in flight school?” I ask him making him look at me.

“Mm-hmm, I rather heard that while we were having our fuck session.” He whispers in my ear.

I giggle again. No man has ever made me feel so special in my life.

“When you come back from the Navel Base, I can call you that.” I touch his arm.

“What if we have a baby?”

“Depends on when you’re coming back sweetheart.” I whisper softly in his ear.

“We’ll just have to be quiet or just did what we just did Y/N/N.” He makes me get closer to him.

“What’re going to do with those polaroids?” I look at the amount he has on his nightstand.

“Taking them with me so I can maybe play with myself to them.” He says looking at them as well.

“Tom!” I playfully slap his bicep.

“It’s true.” He smirks.

“I’m going to miss you Iceman.” I say.

“I’m going to miss you too honey.” He says.

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mess-with-a-purpose · 2 years

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Hurry Back to Me, Soldier

Pairing: Tom “Iceman” Kazansky x fem!reader

Word Count: 7.5k

Warnings: SMUT/NSFW (18+) minors please go away, slight overstimulation, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv sex (please wrap it up), MULTIPLE orgasms, slight dirty talk, praise kink, strong language, established relationship, fluff throughout, angst if you squint

Your knee bounced impatiently as you searched for your boyfriend in the flock of pilots all in white. Damn, why did all these men have to look the same from behind? You tried looking out for Tom’s signature bleached tips but you were too short to see over every head. A wave of anxiety came over you, your fingers clenched together in an effort to spare your cuticles. You knew he was here but you needed to see him. See his smile, his eyes, his birthmark. Having been deprived of his presence for five weeks, you felt it all come to a head.

Tom had insisted that you not visit, the stubborn ass. Five weeks. Five long weeks since you’ve seen him, touched him, felt him. Back home, you tried to keep yourself busy and distracted through work and everyday life but it was in the quiet moments that the loneliness crept in. That’s when you’d bite the bullet and call him, his voice like a security blanket. You tried to reason with him that your work was flexible and you wanted him to show you around Miramar and the Bay area but he was firm. You knew why. You still didn’t like it, but you knew why. For some healthy “payback” you decided to tell Tom that you weren’t going to make it to graduation because something came up with work. He was understanding, as always, but you could hear the disappointment in his voice.

Little did he know that Slider and Wolfman were in on your plan to surprise him for graduation. Slider had let you know about the point results almost as soon as the final count came in just a few days before. You cried when Slider told you the news.

“Oh, Slider, I’m so proud of you both,” you hiccuped.

“I know you are, Squirt.”

“H-how is Tom?” you asked, knowing how big news for him usually went.

Slider sighed over the line. “Well, Squirt, it’s the usual.” Great. That meant he had called home, his mother, Gladys, picked up and gave her regular speech of how proud she is and how much she loves him. Tom was appreciative of his mother, absolutely. Hers just wasn’t the approval that he so desperately wanted.

After you hammered out the details with all the boys and Gladys, you had anxiously waited for this day to finally see him.

“Gentlemen, here at TopGun we challenged you to fly against the very best. Now, we ask that you take that expertise and keep the tradition alive. Good luck.” Commander Phillips was a typical Naval man; cut right to the chase. No fluff, no fuss, no muss. Thank God.

“Do you see him?” you whispered to Gladys. She was hard to miss in her statement turquoise jewelry and silver hair.

She put a loving hand on your knee, calming the bouncing. “It’s fine, dear,” she pointed across the pool into the sea of Service Dress white uniforms. “There he is!” you chuckled at the cliché; mothers can truly always find anything.

It was almost ridiculous the amount of love you felt just seeing the back of Tom’s head, his bleached tips poking out in the sun. He turned his head to whisper to Slider as Commander Metcalf came to the podium, his jawline and smile making you feel like a giddy teenager in a honeymoon phase. Damn it, you loved this man.

Commander Metcalf scanned the small class, a look of assurance coming over his face. “Gentlemen, you are the top one percent of all naval aviators.” A brief pause. “The elite, the best of the best.” Another pause, another scan. You felt your knee bounce again. “We’ve made you better.”

“Calm down, sweetheart,” Gladys’ hand returned to your knee with another gentle pat.

“Sorry, sorry.”

The commander’s voice drowned into an applause as everyone stood to watch their pilots be dismissed, officially graduated.

Gladys leaned over to you. “I’ll go ahead and make my way to Tom. Why don’t you go see the boys for a minute? I think they wanted to help you with a grand reunion.” Her smile was soft as she rubbed your arms. You nod in agreement and watch as she weaves through the crowd to her son who was holding his impressive TopGun trophy.

“Well, well, well,” the familiar voice made you roll your eyes with a smile. Wolfman chuckled, his aviator glasses perched on the tip of his nose as he looked you over. “If it isn’t Squirt!”

“Lenny!” You giggled as he kissed your temple and gave you a firm squeeze.

“We’ve missed you, runt,” that earned him a playful smack on the shoulder. “Hey, hey! Watch the whites,” he laughed as he brushed his fingers along the black and gold pads. “Gotta keep ‘em sharp.”

You felt two strong arms come around your middle and briefly lift you up, a squeal escaping your lips.

“Squirt!” Hollywood and Sundown greeted you with more cheek kisses and hugs.

“Put me down!” you laughed, realizing just how much you’ve missed all your boys. Hollywood obeyed and gave you a quick salute.

“Well, the lil’ lady should go ahead to her Iceman,” Sundown stretched his hand out as if pointing to Tom.

Your heart belted in your chest as you found him again, his smile so wide as Slider pulled him in for a signature headlock hug. You felt the boys give you gentle pats on your shoulders as you started to carve out a path through the crowd. Licking your lips, you kept your gaze locked on Tom, taking in just how he was in the moment. He looked so happy, so very happy.

Slider caught sight of you over Tom’s shoulder, a smile lighting up his face as you put a finger to your lips for a silent shhh as you crept up closer.

“Well, Lieutenant, it seems like you’re one hell of a pilot.”

You watched as Slider looked back at Tom, gesturing with his eyes as if to say She’s really here, man. It felt like a millisecond when Tom turned, his face morphing into pure joy as he saw you standing in front of him.

“Oh my god!” He said, arms circled around you, your feet briefly lifted off the concrete in a symphony of laughter. “Baby!” He kissed you everywhere; your shoulder, neck, cheek. Your fingers ran through his hair and across his shoulders as you laughed. Five weeks. Five very long weeks and here he was, in your arms again. Everyone had turned back to their conversations, giving the two of you a sliver of privacy. His head buried in your neck as you both held each other.

“I’ve missed you so damn much,” you said as Tom met your eyes, his thumbs grazing your cheeks. He didn’t say a word as he sweetly pressed his lips to yours, his forehead resting against your brow when he pulled away.

Gladys gently cleared her throat, her polite indication that you would have plenty of time to reconnect after the ceremony. Her raw turquoise bangle glimmered in the sun. Tom gave you a quick peck on your nose as he shifted you to his side, arm around your waist.

“I am so proud of you, Thomas,” Gladys reached up to touch her son’s cheek.

“Thank you, Mom.”

Something hung in the air with Tom’s response, an unexpected visitor who plagued Tom’s accomplishments. You’d met Commander Kazansky once before at a naval convention after Tom graduated from the Academy, the top of his class. The commander’s presence was completely austere and demanding. He was polite but detached, only giving the bare minimum of attention to anyone, especially his own son. He’s been like a ghost ever since. Tom had told you, rather warned you, about his father and his emotional disregard.

“He’s just that kind of guy.” Tom had said that night after you witnessed it first hand. You were baffled that a father could be so aloof, so disconnected that his son constantly battled to be the best, to prove himself. It broke your heart to watch Tom work his ass off only to get mediocre responses, if not just grunts of acknowledgement, from his commander father. You and Gladys tried to make up the difference but you both knew it would never truly be what he needed to hear.

Once again, on a day when his son would absolutely deserve a simple bit of acknowledgement from his father, Commander Kazansky had only let his presence dangle over the bliss of Tom being the best of the best. It pissed you off and made you wonder what kind of label the defense department would put on a commander getting punched in the face.

Just when Tom’s expression began to dwindle, you gently grabbed his cheeks, “We are so proud of you, Tom Kazansky,” your thumbs brushed his face, his blue-green eyes brightening as he held your waist. “My badass TopGun man.” You gave him a quick kiss, not wanting to harp on asshat fathers.

Slider turned his attention back to you, holding his hand up in a high five offering that you enthusiastically accepted. “Nice one, Squirt!” he chuckled, giving you a quick side hug before calling the boys over.

Tom rolled his eyes, his smile beaming. “You two planned this?” his finger jabbed between the two of you.

“Actually,” Wolfman came up behind you, followed by Hollywood, Sundown, and Merlin. “We all did, Ice.”

“You unbelievable bastards. So she’s who you were on the phone with when I walked in that time?” Tom chuckled, pulling you to his side as all your boys fist bumped each other looking like a proud bunch of frat brothers. In their own way, they probably were.

Slider threw his hands up. “Guilty as charged, man. We couldn’t stand seeing you mope around the last few weeks.”

“So, you decide to lie and make the situation seem worse?” Tom fired back.

Wolfman chuckled, “Nah, dickhead, Squirt here thought it would be fun to surprise you instead,” he ruffled your hair playfully.

“Guilty,” you said, mirroring Slider’s hands.

Tom shook his head in disbelief before giving you a kiss, “You got me good, baby.”

The crew headed to the refreshment table, plastic glasses of champagne being passed around as the guys blew off steam from the last five weeks. You helped yourself to a bit of champagne as Tom and Slider finished up their pictures with the TopGun trophy. Gladys had found some old friends across the pool and the boys were enjoying catching up with you. Just a few minutes into the party, Merlin helped you revive an old drinking game; take a shot every time Hollywood and Wolfman mention their dicks, double if it’s because of war talk. Back in the day, this game would get everyone wasted and drunkenly singing the classic “You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feelin’” even when none of the guys were trying to hit on an unsuspecting woman.

Keeping it classy, you and Merlin only played the game for ten minutes before you both called it quits from already feeling a little tipsy. It was a Navy graduation, after all. Just before Wolfman got another round of champagne, the boys all turned their heads and went quiet. You followed their gaze to find Maverick dressed in his Service Whites and looking exhausted. You’d heard from Tom about what happened to Goose; he called you one night mirroring his father, disconnected as he told you that Goose had been killed in an accident. He didn’t give much more than that and you didn’t want to push him to talk about it. It was an accident, jet wash, lost control.

At that moment, everyone watched as Maverick approached Tom and shook his hand, “Congratulations.”

Tom smiled, “Thank you.”

Maverick turned to Slider, “Congratulations.”

“Thanks, Mav,” Slider replied.

Commander Metcalf joined the refreshment table as Maverick moved to the end. “Gentlemen,” he announced. “I hate to break up the party before it really gets out of hand, but there is work to be done.”

Tom and Slider glanced at each other. You felt a twinge at the back of your neck.

“Some of you have to depart immediately. We have a crisis situation.”

You watched as Tom glanced excitedly at Slider. Jester had a stack of folded papers in his hand, something that looked rather familiar to you in the time that you’ve been with Tom. You knew what those meant and it made your chest tighten.

“Ice. Slider,” Jester passed their papers.

“Yo,” Tom popped a pretzel in his mouth as he handed Slider his assignment sheet. Jester listed off Wolfman, Hollywood, and Maverick next. Tom opened the sheet, smiling as he read the contents. While you’d been through this before, it never got easier. You knew he loved his job, it’s what he was good at, what he felt confident in. You just hated saying goodbye with the possibility of never seeing him again. Just the thought made you feel sick and empty. You downed the rest of your champagne as the boys dispersed, Tom wrapping his arm around your waist.

“Been in this long enough that I don’t have to guess what that is,” you point to the sheet, now refolded in Tom’s free hand.

He gave you a small smile, his lips grazing your temple as his fingers clutched your waist. His forehead rested against yours, “We better send Mom off for the night.”

“How long?”

“We still have tonight. I don’t leave until early in the morning,” a shiver went up your spine as he friskily bit your earlobe. “We still have something to celebrate tonight.”

Tom insisted on driving simply so he could rest his hand on your inner thigh. The tension in the car was overwhelming. You hyper fixated on his touch, his fingers warm as they slightly lifted your dress. Five weeks without him and you could come undone just by skin to skin contact. For a brief moment, the phone sex you had a couple of weeks ago flashed in your mind. Tom’s voice was low and smooth as he walked you through how he wanted you to touch yourself.

“Nice and slow around your clit, baby,” you bit your lip, doing as you were told, so desperate for release. “I want to hear you, come on, I know you’re close.”

While that had been much needed for the both of you, it only made missing him worse once the high wore off. You would have to hang up eventually, cutting off the only connection you had to him while he was at TopGun. It was in that moment that you felt your frustration grow because it was Tom who decided you shouldn’t visit him. He didn’t really explain why but knowing him, you figured it was because he wanted as few distractions as possible. While you respected that, you couldn’t help but feel stung that he might consider you a distraction.

Tom’s fingers stroked your skin, squeezing lightly as you gasped at the forwardness of it all. He was one for physical affection, always wanting to touch you either through a hand on your leg, brushing your lower back, or an arm secured around your waist. This felt different. It felt possessive, hungry.

Your eyes fluttered as he grazed your underwear, grazing your clit beneath the fabric, his Annapolis ring rolling along your skin with a sharp coolness. A soft moan escaped your lips as you glanced over at Tom. His eyes were fixed on the road but a smirk graced his delicious lips as he repeated his touch, more intentional with his movements.

“Is this okay, sweetheart?” his fingers dipped into the elastic of your underwear and you chuckle. Always the gentleman and god, you loved him for it.

“Yes, please baby,” you whined, craving his touch. Tom happily obliged, the pads of his fingers immediately finding your clit. It was almost too much.

Spreading your legs wider for him, he dipped lower into you, feeling your craving for him as he explored. “God, baby,” he licked his lips. “You’re so wet for me already.”

Your head tilted back as another moan left your lips. He found an agonizing rhythm: steady but slow. Damn it, he knew what he was doing. You needed more, your hand grasping at his wrist to control the pace but Tom paused. Another whine from you.

“Babe, please, fuck, I need more.”

At a stoplight, Tom looked over at you, his eyes dark. Shit, you knew what that meant. “Hands off, baby,” his fingers slowly regained their original speed. “Relax. I just want you to feel.”

The car revved, sending vibrations to your clit for a moment before your hips ground against his hand. You wanted him to let you both give in to the tension, have him fuck you deep and hard to let it go. You’d missed this so much, the intense intimacy. You weren’t sure how long you had left until you got to his place but god, you needed this.

You glanced back over at his handsome face, the urge to kiss his birthmark and bite at his neck consumed your already fogged brain. Clenching his jaw, he sped his fingers up slightly, earning another moan from you as he rubbed circles against your clit.

Breath heavy, you felt your nipples pebbling up against your lace bra. Tom noticed too and swallowed hard. God, he wanted his mouth on you.

“Tom, I–”

“Shh,” he slipped his index and middle finger into you. Yes, God, yes. Your nerves were screaming with delight. “Come on, baby. Let’s see if you can cum before we get home.” Holy fuck.

His fingers and your hips synchronized, his palm bumping your clit deliciously as you became drunk with sensation. Your moans became higher and louder as you felt the pressure build right where you wanted it to. Just a little more…

“That’s it, that’s my girl,” Tom hit that spot and you tried to anchor yourself by grabbing the door handle and his uniform sleeve, your muscles clenching as your nails desperately dug into the fabric. You tightened around his fingers as he helped you ride out your high, your hand clamped around his wrist as your hips involuntarily chased the sensation. Your face was scorching as he gently pulled his fingers away and eagerly sucked them into his mouth just as he turned into his driveway. Still getting your breathing under control, you heard Tom finish off cleaning his fingers as he opened the door to get to you.

He’d only given you one orgasm and you swore that your legs already felt like jelly as he gently pulled you from the car. No kiss, just hasty movements as you both wanted to give in to the craving of each other. It consumed you, burning from inside.

Tom made quick work of the front door, slamming you against it as soon as the lock was replaced. Finally, you could touch him. And you did, everywhere. Your hands trailed over his uniform, buttons and insignia bumping underneath the pads of your fingers as you attempted to undo part of his high collar. His mouth pressed against yours as he caged you from both sides, a feral need seeping through that he was desperately trying to control. Tom never touched you unless you gave the okay and in that moment, he thought he would go insane without the feeling of you. It infuriated you that he was such a gentleman, but you appreciated it anyway.

“God, Tom, I need you to fucking touch me before I lose my goddamn mind,” his lips trailed down to your neck as his hands found your waist, a dark chuckle ringing in your ears.

“Needy, are we?” your eyes fluttered closed as he sucked underneath your jaw, tongue soothing the marked skin. His fingers found the zipper of your dress without hesitation and he slowly pulled the tab down, his eyes catching yours as he peeled it off.

“You have no idea, Lieutenant,” collar opened, his mouth moved back to yours as you felt around the buttons to strip the jacket from his shoulders. Tom’s hands move from your waist to your chest, cupping your breasts through your black lace lingerie, his favorite. Thumbs trailing over your already hard nipples, he smiled against your mouth as you let out a squeak for him. He knew your nipples were sensitive and fucking hell if he didn’t take advantage of that fact.

“Fuck,” Tom said in between kisses. You can’t help but giggle as you both take a breather, his hands still exploring your chest and thumbs swiping along the peaks.

“Do you have to be such a guy sometimes?” you give him a quick kiss. “Why do you have so many layers, Lieutenant?” you ask, grabbing his undershirt from his pants to pull over his head. His arms bulged as he helped you take his shirt the rest of the way off, your mouth watering at the sight of his toned chest.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you go in for another kiss and lick his bottom lip playfully. He gives you a sassy bite back, his teeth popping together, a sound that you didn’t realize turned you on. Your hands moved along his shoulders and back as he attacked your neck, leaving love bites that made you quiver. His hands drift from your breasts down to your thighs, an unofficial focal point for his fetishes. Cupping your thigh, he hikes your leg up around his waist and takes the opportunity to grind against the thin lace of your lingerie, earning him another eager moan from you. His movements were feverish and desperate, searching for any sensation possible.

Fingers gripping his hair, you pull him back to your mouth. “Jump,” he says, breaking away from you. He catches your other thigh underneath his strong hands, pushing you away from the door.

He swiftly guided you to his bedroom, hands massaging your legs as his lips and teeth met your collarbone, dark marks blooming on your skin. You fell into the mattress, arms resting above your head as Tom stood at the edge of the bed admiring your state, so desperate for him. A smirk came across his face as you bit your lip while he worked his belt. Excited, you hoisted yourself up to help but he gently grabbed your hands, shaking his head. Instead, his fingers worked the band of your bra, unclipping it with ease and sliding it down your arms. Eyes never leaving yours, he tossed it to the floor before giving you a kiss to finish the work on his belt. His tongue gently dipped into your mouth as he pinned you against the sheets, hands locking with yours as he pushed them back above your head.

Needing to feel your thighs, he trailed one hand down to your leg as he moved his mouth to your chest. You gasped as his lips left tender kisses along your skin before wrapping his lips around your nipple. Fingers tangled in his bleached locks as he sucked and soothed with kitten licks, desire pooling between your thighs. Instinctively, your legs widened for him as you craved more pressure on your clit. Sensitivity from the first orgasm lingered, but you didn’t care. Your hips thrust impatiently against his white slacks, the fabric offering slight relief. Tom caught on, slowly releasing your nipple with a brief pop of his lips and glancing up at you with his chin resting on your breasts. Your heavy breathing forced his head to bob up and down, his eyes following your own.

Suddenly, Tom’s gaze filled with determination. You knew where he was going, his commanding nature taking over as his hands grazed your inner thighs. His eyes fluttered as he plucked at your skin.

“I want you to cum on my face, baby,” he kissed between your breasts. “I want to feel your thighs shake,” fingers tapped along your covered folds. His lips worked down your body, stopping to give your stomach a playful bite that left you shrieking and giggling.

“Tom!” another giggle.

“I almost forgot just how ticklish you are,” his breath made your stomach tense, preparing for another bite that didn’t come. Reaching your core, he gripped your hips to pull you towards the edge of the bed. Another kiss over your clothed clit made you whine, lips raw from your teeth and his kisses. His breath caressed your skin as he gently hooked his fingers around your underwear, teasingly nipping your thighs as he pulled them to your ankles. You heard the soft landing after they’d been thrown, Tom diving back between your thighs as he rested your legs on his shoulders.

A delicate kiss covered your clit before you felt a flat tongue run up your entire slit. You were enveloped in sensation, hands running down your face as you felt drunk with another lick. You knew your skin would be decorated with evidence of his affection for days and you absolutely burned for it. Tom knew it too, a smile delving into your folds. He alternated kissing, slurping, and teasing with his fingers as he held you down to the mattress, sheets warm and soft against your back. Your arousal coated his mouth and chin with a slight sheen.

“Missed this,” he moaned, the pads of his fingers running along your slick folds before his tongue flicked your clit.

“L-Lieutenant!”

“Missed your taste,” his tongue flickered against your slit, his blue-green eyes locking with yours as you pushed up onto your elbows. His face was flushed and glossy. “The way these fucking thighs quiver,” he lovingly bites your inner thigh, lips sucking at the skin until it bloomed purple. You do just that, muscles shivering as his tongue returns to your clit, a noisy slurp filling the room as you watch his jaw flex with his tongue.

He huffs out a dark chuckle against your skin as his mouth brings you closer to the edge, hips bucking against his face. “You fucking like that, huh?” you nodded meekly as he smirked.

“Yes, Tom, yes!”

He groans, slipping his fingers back into you as he continues his work on your clit, synchronizing his movements as your moans become breathier and louder. Tom knew what that meant, pulling away just for a moment.

“Say it, baby,” a brief suck on your clit. “I want to hear you.”

“I want–fuck,” the sly devil thrust his fingers in time with his lips against your clit. “I want to cum again. Please let me cum again, Lieutenant.” You didn’t care that you sounded so meek; you knew that you both needed this.

Tom’s perfectionism always presented itself at the best of times; his fingers, lips, and tongue collaborated to beckon you further into euphoria. The snap hits you like a freight train, your body convulsing as you let out a silent scream. Behind your eyes, you saw a galaxy of colors and bursts of stars that radiated through your entire body. Tom is right there with you the whole time, tongue gently lapping up your juices. A loud slurp sends extra shivers across your body as your chest begs for more air. Limbs giving in to the release, you felt weightless as Tom drank you in.

“Just like that,” Tom said between your thighs, voice dripping with lust. “You did so well for me, baby.”

Thighs quivering and breath shaky, your hands delicately ran through his hair as he placed gentle kisses along your legs before moving up your body. You had kept your eyes shut, the wave having passed but still lingering with an intensity that you’d never experienced. Tom was careful with his hands, avoiding your clit as he gently cupped your breast before offering a sweet kiss on your lips. Slowly, you felt the frustration of the last five weeks chip away, the routine of love making resettling into your brain as you remembered that Tom’s bare minimum was three orgasms for you. One more to go. Your body felt like it was on fire.

His hands held your face tenderly, your skin still feeling electrically charged with every touch. It was almost too much. Almost. Opening your eyes, you stare at Tom’s face and reconnect with all of his features. That bleached hair, his strong brows, inset blue-green eyes, noticeable nose, plump lips and perfect teeth. You wanted to run your fingers over every single detail, close your eyes as you trace him to memory. Running your hands down his chest, you head for his belt and slacks, knowing that he had to feel tighter against the fabric. Lips connected, you fumbled with his pants to slide them down his legs along with his briefs. His length pressed against you as your fingers glided back over his muscles to wrap around him.

Now it was his turn to give himself over to the sensations, the pleasure, the intensity. Gentle strokes caused his lips to fumble against yours, a groan filling the empty space between heaving breaths. A smug smile came across your mouth as you felt him melt into your touch, muscles rippling underneath your fingers. In that moment, you felt a twinge of power watching Tom slowly unravel above you. All with just your fingers. Checkmate. You flip him over onto the mattress to straddle his hips, sitting back against his thighs as you let his hands wander over your skin.

“It’s my turn, Lieutenant,” you gasped, slowly gliding your slit over him to tease. Tom bit his lip, fingers grabbing your hips as you continued to move. He wanted more. You knew it, too, but damn if you’d let him have it that easily. Bending back over him, your thumb traced his lips. Tom understood the cue, opening his mouth as your lips pressed against his, your tongues battling for dominance. His fingers trailed along your sides, featherlight touches causing you to break the kiss in breathy giggles. You heard his hearty laugh as his lips dipped along your neck, sucking at the delicate purple tinged skin before soothing it with his tongue. God, this man drove you insane. You felt your slick collect along his length and stomach, your clit sparking with each movement.

Pulling his lips away from the bloomed skin of your neck, you kiss him deeply before snaking your hand between your bodies to guide his length into you. He craved that profound intimacy, the connection that stirred in the moment only to be shared with the two of you. You were his safe place and this bond with you kept him sane. He’d been deprived of it for five weeks, his body urging it back as you slowly slid yourself down his length. Pairs of gasps filled the room, foreheads pressing against each other as you both savored the feeling, welcoming it back eagerly.

Tom licked his lips, palms warm and resting on your hips. “God, baby, I missed you so much,” another kiss. “You have no idea.”

“I missed you, too,” your lips recapture him in a deeper lock. “Let me show you how much.”

Pressing your palms against his chest to steady yourself as you sit up, your hips begin to move. Tom lets his head go slack against the pillow as he feels your warm heat consume him. Gently pushing his hips up, he tightens his grip as he tries to match your rhythm. Your moans came steadily as you controlled the pace, feeling him everywhere: under your thighs, inside your core, against your palms. Your skin felt like it was on fire but you welcomed the heat without hesitation.

Needing more, you quicken your thrusts. Tom’s throat bobs as his moans join yours. In a brief haze, you feel one of his hands leave your hips and hear him suck on a finger before swirling it around your clit as you rock against him harder. You moan, throwing your head back as you push against his chest for more leverage. Teetering on the edge, you needed more. As if he read your mind, Tom quickly shoots into a seated position, arms casing you in as he claims your mouth to swallow your gasps. The new angle was deliciously attentive to your clit, your body shivered with bliss.

“You’re mine, baby,” Tom cupped your face as your hands cling to his shoulders. His hips continued to meet yours with each word and pant.

“Yours…and you’re mine,” you gasp, his eyes glossy and mouth swollen as he nods against your forehead. You offer another deep kiss before he tucks his face into your neck, cheek resting just above your breast. His breath left your skin damp as you felt the band tighten in your belly with each thrust. You involuntarily clench as he hit the perfect spot, both of you moaning as his hand cups your breast.

“Close, sweetheart?” Tom asks. You nod as he grabs your hips and presses you back against the bed. You squeal at the urgency, his hips snapping into you with a frenzied pace. Tom licked his thumb, pressing it to your clit as he smiled before sucking a nipple into his mouth. You felt delirious, your body experiencing everything all at once. Your thighs throbbed as you heard Tom’s groans against your chest, his efforts to keep everything in perfect unison crumbling as he catapulted himself towards his own release. You knew what was next, your body craved the routine of it.

“T-Tom,” you moaned, his thrust hitting deep into you. “Fuck, just like that. Please, please don’t stop!” your voice broke into a cry. Surely, if he stopped, you would be driven to madness. Your body already reached its peak twice with Tom now beckoning for a third and you were happy to oblige that standard. He kept his pace, your arms pulling him close as your core quivered around him. Vision fading in and out, you gave yourself to the third wave of the night as your thighs seemed to vibrate around his waist, heels digging into his lower back. You clung to him as an anchor, afraid you’d disappear into nothing but sensation.

Tom followed you shortly after, spilling his release into you with a strangled groan. With the wave crashing through, you couldn’t help but take in his beautiful features once again. The sweat on his hairline, his red and swollen lips, purple blooming across his skin, his length twitching inside you as he chased the remainder of his high. God, he was so handsome like this. His fingers left your clit, a hiss escaping your mouth as you felt a twinge of overstimulation rack your body, your eyes fluttering shut. He carefully pulled out, trembling as your fingers stretched across his back, his skin burning against your fingertips.

Propping himself up on an elbow, he trailed his index finger back up your stomach, circling your nipple before he gently took your hand in his. Your breathing steadied as he smiled and kissed your palm, placing it on his cheek. Five weeks and here you were, completely fucked into oblivion with three orgasms to show for it. Tom’s gaze had shifted from lust filled to love struck as he let his fingers trace your features, your cheeks flushed and glowing.

“Why didn’t you want me here?” you outlined Tom’s jaw with your fingers.

Tom glanced away for a moment, inhaling sharply as he was contemplating his answer. You couldn’t lie to yourself and say that you weren’t stung by his insistence of no visits. He knew you would have flown here just for a day if it meant you could have this. Not just the sex but the time with him. It’s not as though you were naive of what being the partner of a fighter pilot meant. You knew Tom would be at the beck and call of the government, going wherever they sent him without question. No, you knew that and you’d accepted it a long time ago. But this felt different. This wasn’t the government placing him somewhere classified where he couldn’t get specific other than say he saw the same moon at night. This was Tom deliberately keeping you away, blocking you out.

“I–” you swallowed, palm cupping his cheek to gently urge him back to you. “I am not trying to accuse or start anything,” Tom licked his lips. “I just–I would like to know why.”

Tom was silent but you could see the cogs turning as he worked out a response. You didn’t want him to shut down.

“Am I–am I a distraction for you?” you asked, hesitant to get the words out.

Immediately, Tom grasped your wrist, staring down at you. “No, sweetheart! No, it’s not that.”

You bit your lip again. “Did you need some time apart?”

Tom sighed. “No, baby. It’s not what you think.”

“Then just tell me, please.”

After a moment, your brows knit together as you watched his face. “I can’t stand saying goodbye to you,” his thumb brushed your cheekbone. “I wanted you here but ever since what happened with Cougar’s meltdown I just–I lost it for a minute. And then Goose–You know, they tell us that if we fly long enough, shit like that will happen. Our job is dangerous. We lose people. Just part of the gig,” he took a second to collect his thoughts, his hand running down your hip. “I know you’ve accepted the reality of having to say goodbye to me,” he gave your hip a comforting squeeze. “After Goose’s accident, I started thinking that maybe I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to you.”

“I’m right here, Tom.”

“I know. It’s just–I have to accept it won’t get easier. I’ve got a lot to lose and that scares the shit out of me.”

Your hands gently stroke Tom’s cheeks as you kiss the tip of his nose. “I’m here, right here, right now. You just have to accept what is. What we have right now is pretty damn good, Lieutenant. Shit, this entire time I was thinking in the back of my mind that you might want to break up with me or something.”

“Fuck, no! Are you kidding?”

“Well, you did bar me from visiting, asshat,” you playfully slapped his shoulder.

“I won’t make that mistake, I promise,” he kissed your fingers, tucking them underneath his chin as you settled under the sheets. He glanced at you lovingly, pulling your arm so you’d lay on his chest. One hand ran up and down your back as he stroked your arm with the other.

“I love you, Tom,” you kissed his chest, eyes closed as you nuzzled his skin.

You felt his lips fall on your hair as he kissed your head. “I love you, baby.”

In the morning, you got up with Tom to help him with his deployment routine. While he showered, you took the liberty of packing his duffle making sure to iron his uniforms and pack extra flight suits. You felt like you were moving through molasses as the soreness between your legs had presented itself with a raging intensity. Tom’s surprise morning quickie at six hadn’t helped you but amused him as he watched you get out of the bed like a baby deer learning to walk.

“Fuck you, Tom Kazansky.”

“Oh, you have, baby. Multiple times,” that earned him a pillow to the head before he escaped to the bathroom.

You didn’t realize just how much you missed your routine with Tom until then. You missed the domesticity of everyday things: packing his bag, getting the coffee going, setting out his pressed shirts so that he could have the honor of folding them in his special way. This was one of the things you craved the most, being present in his life with the simpler tasks. You always believed that cliche was true because now you could say you were the walking, talking, breathing embodiment of said cliche.

Tom stepped out of the bathroom dressed in his basic white shirt, jeans, and boots. His hair was still damp as he wrapped his arms around you to rest his chin on your shoulder while you finished pouring the coffee. Turning your head, you gave him a quick kiss before handing him a mug.

“Thank you, baby,” He gulped three times before coming up for air, your first sip barely swallowed. You laughed from behind your mug. “Oh, did you pack the–”

“Extra snacks for you and Slider in the bonus pocket? Tell Slider I couldn’t find the regular jerky he likes so he’ll have to live with the turkey kind for this go-around.”

Tom smiled, tugging you into another hug. You’d forgotten how clingy he was during mornings like this, not that you were complaining. Burying your nose in his chest, you could smell the amber and sandalwood aftershave you’d bought him as an anniversary present. You were happy you remembered to spray his “borrowed” sweatshirt with it before he left. Tom would never admit it, but he found your little rituals for him to be comforting and adorable. He loved that you thought of little details like packing his bag with snacks for both himself and Slider, extra shoe polish, pressed shirts, pictures; it made him feel proud in a weird way.

Pulling your face from his chest, you both glance at the clock. Almost time or he’ll get his ass chewed out. Graduating with the TopGun award and being late to his first official deployment as the best of the best wouldn’t be a good look. Reluctantly, Tom pulled his arms from you, kissing your forehead as you sighed. Grabbing his duffle, he slung it over his shoulders as you walked with him to the front door.

“You’ll be here when I get back?”

“Your mom and I have some stuff planned,” you ran your fingers over his t-shirt. “Miramar seems super captivating.”

Tom chuckles at your tone, drinking up the sarcasm. You quickly wrap your arms tightly around his neck, standing on your toes. His hands clutch your waist, thumbs rubbing your exposed skin from your lifted sweatshirt.

“Hurry back to me, soldier,” you whisper against his ear, kissing his jaw as he pulls you back for another kiss.

“Always will.”

#tom kazansky #tom kazansky x reader #tom iceman kazansky #tom iceman kazansky x reader #top gun #val kilmer #top gun fic #tom kazansky smut #val kilmer smut #top gun smut #tom kazansky fluff

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callsignthirsty · 2 years

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OMG! I'm loving your Iceman stories!! 🥵🌡🥵🌡🥵🌡👅👅👅

Can I request a story? Maybe it's the night before Ice has to be deployed and the reader is upset and he comforts her with some sexy lovemaking?

Please and thank you ❤️

@ecarroll1978 — thank you for your eternal patience. I got smacked upside the head by SitM and was unable to focus on anything else for a minute.

I know you asked for sexy lovemaking, and I was reaching for that, but then I spilled a bunch of angst into the mix. Sorry in advance. I hope that this still scratches your itch.

Pairing: Tom “Iceman” Kazansky x F!Reader Word Count: 2700 Warnings: Smut, angst, more feelings that you may have thought you signed up for with me Minors DNI

Do You Have to Go?

Ice's bag sits by the door. Packed with military efficiency next to his boots. His khakis are pressed and folded on the chair in the corner of your room. Dog tags on the nightstand.

He leaves in the morning.

The carrier departed earlier today — or, well, yesterday. One of the benefits of dating a naval aviator is that you get a couple extra days. They're the last to deploy and the first to disembark. Something to do with the planes being unable to take off while the carrier is docked.

You went to bed hours ago, but sleep has actively avoided you. Before long, the sun will begin its climb out from the ocean, and Slider will park his car beside Ice's in the garage. Pull a cover over his baby like he's tucking her in, hang his keys in the laundry room, and then you'll drive them both to NAS Miramar. The routine is familiar, but that doesn't mean you like it.

"Hey." Ice gathers you in his arms and pulls you back against his chest. "You okay?" His head ducks into the crook of your neck, warm breath fanning over your shoulder.

"I'm fine."

"Mmm," he hums. "People only say that when they aren't." And he has you there. You're pretty far from fine, but you're even further from admitting it. "If you think any louder, you'll wake up the whole neighborhood. Talk to me."

You try to settle into him. Let him wrap you in his arms and attempt to soak up the steady ba-dum of his heart against your back. The way his sleep-soft hair tickles the underside of your jaw and his knees tuck up under yours. But every one of your lines remains rigid. You open your mouth to say what's on your mind, but there's something in your throat. A wetness that tracks down your nose and into your pillow. Swallowing, you try again, but you know he'll hear it in your voice. "Do you have to go?"

You know the answer before the question has even left your lips, and you hate the way he holds you closer. Presses a slow, sad kiss near your collarbone.

"You know I do."

It's the worst part of loving him: having to let him go. Only having him for scant months at a time. Hoping you get a letter back. A call. But it's also what makes him who he is. And you'd give the world to keep him at your side, but you'd never ask him to change.

Unable to choke out anything else, you nod your head. When Ice begins to turn you in his arms, you keep your eyes shut tight, unable to face him. It doesn't stop the tears from escaping past your lashes and onto his chest, where he cradles your head and rubs soothing circles into your back. "We'll be okay," he reassures you, his voice still rough and thick with exhaustion. "I'll be back before you know it."

It's a sweet lie. Time never passes as slowly as it does when he's deployed. And the moments leading up to it slip like sand through your fingers: faster, the tighter you try to hold on.

"But what if you're not?" you hiccup. "What if…" you can't bring yourself to finish the thought, but it damns you all the same. So you try to comfort yourself with the belief that even if Tom doesn't come home, you'll still have known what it felt like to have basked in the warm glow of his love. To have loved him in return. But all the thought does is wring a round of fresh tears onto his neck.

"I'll come back," he tries again. Pulls you from his chest and angles your head up as his thumb dries salty rivulets from your cheeks. "I'll always come back to you." It's a promise you both know he shouldn't be making, one you'll never be able to hold him to, but he's so sure of himself. You take a shaky breath and nod into the warmth of his hand on your cheek.

Ice presses a kiss to the top of your crown, your forehead, the corner of your lips. You let out a wet gasp and seek him out in a soft kiss. All sad sighs and gentle pressure. When it ends, your head dips beneath his jaw again to nuzzle into him, finally bring your arms to wrap around his shoulders as you breathe him in — no cologne, no aftershave, just his pure masculine scent.

You clutch him close, and Ice hugs you in return. Continues to rub benign circles against your back. Ice smoothes a hand through your hair when you look up at him again. "What can I do?" he asks, his eyes helplessly searching yours.

'Don't leave me,' you want to say. But that isn't fair. Ice never wants to leave you. The months at sea are just as torturous for him as they are for you. "Love me," you beg instead, voice colored with unshed tears. "Just love me."

"I can do that."

Plush lips capture yours, slow where yours grow insistent until you're both lazily trading close-mouthed promises of candied, domestic bliss. Until you're trembling, running on raw emotion, and all that's left is your purest, most vulnerable self. "I've got you," he vows as you tremble in his hands. His next kiss is steeped in passion. A promise of years and the sweetness of real, heartbreaking love as his tongue finally glides along your lips. You let him in with a contented sigh, hands cupping the sharp cut of his jaw, resting over his racing pulse, and drawing him closer.

Ice climbs on top of you, your chests rubbing and lips never parting as you roll onto your back. Your hands meander down his back, pausing to memorize the hills and valleys. The lines of his ribs, the shift of the muscles in his back as he holds himself above you. The calluses lining his hands as they skim up and down your side, knead at your hips.

When his lips break from yours, it's so he can lift your night shirt over your head. You arch off the bed to help. Before the fabric hits the floor, your fingers are in his hair, tugging him into another silky kiss. Ice obliges momentarily but then sits back, his hand on your chest, stilling you against sweat-damp sheets. His eyes rake from your sleep-tousled hair and glossy eyes down to your heaving chest. And you lie there, entranced by the thumb that plays at the waistband of his boxers, let him drink you in while you study the way that the moonlight streaming through the window highlights the Cupid's bow of his lips, the roundness of his broad shoulders, the cut of his abs. How his blonde hair is painted silver and his pale eyes seem to glow.

"You're beautiful," he breathes as he stretches over you, with smooth skin and a love-drunk expression. The praise sends a shiver down your spine, and you wrap your thighs around him to pull him closer, desperately needing the contact. To feel whole before he's ripped away from you. Again.

Ice fits against you like a puzzle piece. Clicks into place and showers you with tender kisses until the loose cotton of your sheets is too much. Clinging to you and making sweat beads along your temples, you try to kick them off the edge of the bed with tangled limbs. Tomorrow night, they won't be enough to keep you warm. Not in his absence.

"Bite me," you plead with your fingers twisted in his hair. You want to feel the sting of his teeth sinking into your tender flesh. Want to wake up for days with the physical manifestation of his brand staring back at you in the mirror. Something you can pet and poke and worry and keep long after he's landed on the carrier.

Ice must understand because he takes to the task easy enough. He kisses down your collarbone and between the valley of your breasts. It starts with a lingering peck, then his tongue. A nip. A hearty suck. You can already feel the bruise forming, pulsing beneath his lips as he continues to work the tender skin. He stops sucking with a wet, satisfied smack, then trails his lips lower, not stopping until you're littered with the rosy red bloom of his mark. Your hips, your thighs, your collarbones.

"That better, baby?" he asks, licking over the freshest mark in an attempt to quiet the still-burning sting of his affection. You nod because these will have to do. But the bruises will fade with time. Then his scent will be whisked from his pillow and out the window with the breeze, and you'll be truly alone. Left to drift through the house like a specter. Entombed within the four walls where once you'd flourished. A tomb and a shrine to the life you've built together. Brittle. Dead as the desert shrubs until his love rolls in like a storm and breathes you back to life.

Before he can move on away, you kiss down Ice's neck. He lets you, head tilting to the side to give you more room to work with. And with his silent permission, you return the favor. Tentatively, at first, but then with fervor. Sucking a deep mark into the unblemished skin above his collarbone. Your stamp. A claim is easily hidden beneath his khakis, flight suit, and dress whites, but that Slider will tease him for in the locker room. Your own brief reminder of what he has to come home to.

When you're done, Ice guides your lips back to his. They part instantly, your breathing shallow and rushed, heads tilting, hands grabbing.

"Tom."

"I know, baby. I know." He's hard against your thigh but ignores it in favor of sucking your bottom lips into his mouth. Nibbling at it until it's tender and plump from the treatment. A hand ghosts over your chest, thumbing over your nipple before his fingers trail up to your hand. He laces your fingers together, kisses the back of your thumb, your wrist, then presses your hand into the mattress beside your head. You give his hand a squeeze and marvel at the size of it. How it dwarfs your hand while holding it so delicately like you're something precious.

With a shift, his cock is hot against your core, gliding effortlessly as he rocks his hips with a groan. When he tries to sit up, you use your hand clasped in his to pull him to you. Shaking your head, you tell him: "Want it. Need to feel you." And he nods because he's always known you better than you know yourself. Like the bruises, you want to feel this for days. The sweet pleasure-pain of where he's stretched you open. Where you've been joined so completely. Where you once were whole.

Your legs loosen around his hips so he can position himself at your entrance, the hand not in yours pressing one of your thighs into the mattress. The tip sinks in, and you close your eyes to savor the feeling, but Ice pulls out just as fast. "Eyes on me, sweetheart," he croons, and you're helpless to do anything but obey. He's gorgeous like this: eyes half-lidded and dark with desire, fringe falling into his eyes, cheeks an amorous pink. Tomorrow he'll be the Navy's, but tonight he's yours.

You both moan as he inches into you.

And you would be happy to stay just like this all night. You want to. Would give the world for it. Hands clasped tight because you know it's only a matter of hours until you'll have to let go. Chests flush, heaving and close enough to feel his heart race. Eyes so focused in loving adoration that you can count every shade of blue-green in them. Your legs snug around his hips, holding him to you like this will be the thing to bolt him to the ground. To keep him here. With you. Safe from the rising tensions over a vast wasteland of water. Still flying high but tethered to you. To home. Like a kite catching in the breeze.

Ice shifts against you like the tide — slowly rolling in and out — and you can't help but sigh as his love washes over you. You tense with each forward thrust of his hips, litter his back with half moon etchings, and shudder when he groans. His cheek is rough against your lips as you trail down to mouth at his jawline. Lick along the corded muscles in his neck and feel the hum of his voice as he says your name like a prayer into the night.

You want, more than anything, to freeze this moment, but there goes time again, slipping through your fingers like sand. Disappearing like the moon behind the clouds or the breath from your lungs. A plane into the distance. Ice speeds up, his pace still heart-stoppingly slow. He captures your lips, your tongues curling together and eyes slipping closed as you arch into him. It's hard to tell where one of you ends and the other begins; the lines between are thoroughly blurred from the pleasure and the tears, but it's still not enough.

"Tom," you plead, breath hitching. Bottom lip trembling and fresh tears wetting your eyes, though you're no longer certain whether it's from pleasure or melancholy. Ice knows, though. He kisses the tears from your lashes, the same emotions aching between his ribs.

"I love you," he pants, swallowing hard around the emotion leaking through and soaking that velvety voice you love. "So much. Never—" Never want to leave. But it goes unsaid. Because saying so changes nothing. He'll still fly out with the morning light. Instead, he presses his forehead to yours, slick with the sweat from your lovemaking.

"Please."

He presses a kiss to your temple. Harder this time. Then sinks his lips into yours with a barely restrained passion, some of that tight-leashed control slipping through his fingers. "Wanna show you how much I love you," he says, hips pressed firmly to your own, and you bounce with it. "Want you with me all the time." You keen. "Gonna make it official," he groans.

Your mouth drops open with a gasp that's half surprise as your skin prickles and your mind goes fuzzy.

"When I get back. Just- god—" Ice's head falls between his shoulders with a strangled noise "—Just gotta wait for me to get back." His lips surge into yours, needily catching your moans on his tongue. "You can do it, sweetheart. I know you can." His admission is simultaneously too much and not enough. The two of you devolving into stuttered breaths and trembling hips. Both chasing the end while wanting to hold it off as long as possible — draw out the moment forever, like the horizon disappearing over the sea.

But, unlike your love, the night is finite.

You reach your peaks, groaning into each other's mouths and wrapped in an intimate embrace. Clinging together and trading slow, hungry kisses until Ice's softened cock slips from you and the chill of the early morning leeches the heat from you both, leaving you shivering on the bed, sated and reeking of sex.

Ice picks the blankets up from where they'd been kicked to the floor. Instead of draping them over you as your eyes grow heavy, he motions for you to stand, and as you make your way to the back door bundled in the duvet, he pulls on some sweatpants and starts the coffee maker.

The two of you sit under the fading stars on the back patio. Talking about everything and nothing in hushed whispers. Enjoying the bitter taste of your coffee as the sky bleaches light enough to where you can make out the palm trees swaying in the breeze. As the clouds grow pink, you beg time to stand still, just this once.

It doesn't.

And as the sun finally breaks free of the horizon, Ice presses a kiss to the top of your head, and you burrow further into his side to soak up his love like these first rays of the sun while Slider pulls into the drive.

#top gun fanfiction #top gun smut #tom iceman kazansky x reader #tom iceman kazansky x f!reader #tom iceman kazansky x reader smut #tom kazansky x reader #iceman x reader #iceman smut #iceman top gun #tom iceman kazansky smut #tom kazansky smut #iceman kazansky #thirsty answers

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loki-halstead · 2 years

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Me coming home from a holiday with no signal to find all my Top Gun tags updated: 😍🎉

I love you guys!

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradleybradshaw #top gun maverick #topgun #bradley bradshaw smut #bradleybradshaw x oc #icemav #iceman x reader #iceman smut #tom kazansky smut #tom kazansky x reader

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sarahsmi13s · 6 months

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|| Tom 'Iceman' Kazansky Masterlist ||

i DO NOT consent to copies or translations of my work!

hello my little cassettes! here is where you can find all of the stories that feature tom 'iceman' kazansky!

general taglist

series

sorry... none yet 😅

angst

sorry... none yet 😅

smut -- 18+ MDNI

-> "is there a reason you're naked in my bed?" (tom kazansky x kerner!reader)

fluff

sorry... none yet 😅

#vinny's multiverse #tom iceman kazasky masterlist #tom iceman kazansky #iceman #tom kazansky #iceman smut #tom kazansky smut #iceman angst #tom kazansky angst #iceman fluff #tom kazansky fluff #x reader #x oc #tom iceman kazansky x reader #tom iceman kazansky x oc #top gun maverick #top gun #sarahsmi13s masterlist #sarahsmi13s

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thestarwarslesbian · 6 months

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Okay but why does Iceman seem like he reads romance novels.

He seems like he would read a lot on carriers and on leave. Everyone including Slider thinks he reads action and true crime novels. I have this idea in my head that Ice would be reading at a social event like a medal cerimony that the '86 gang would all be at and there he would be reading his hardback novel with no name on it. Ice would probely leave for a few minutes to get food or go speak with someone and Mav and the others would grab his book to see what he was reading, and behold they look apon the sumttiest romance book any of them have read. But funny thing would be that Ice has read books that are more sumtty and dark conent wise. Ice is able to keep a straight face while reading it but the rest of the gang turn beatroot read after a single sentnece.

#mav would want to try some of the ideas from the books with ice later #this would also be how they found out he was gay #due to him probely reading a gay smut book on a carrier and leaving it open in his plane after being the spare one mission #top gun headcanons #iceman #tom iceman kazansky #pete maverick mitchell #maverick #top gun #iceman reads romance novels #icemav #but only if you squint #gay iceman

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lovelybucky1 · 2 years

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Kinktober Day 4- Lingerie

warnings: AFAB reader, nude photos, mentions of male masturbation

kinktober masterlist

main masterlist

Tom Kazansky prided himself on his composure and self control. It’s what made him the best pilot at Top Gun, hell, maybe even the entire Navy. He was patient, logical, and fitting to his callsign, ice-cold. When it came to you, though, he couldn’t help himself.

He’s never had a problem with waiting, but right now, with you standing out of reach across the bedroom, looking like a devil disguised as an angel in white lace, he’s never wanted more.

“Please, princess,” he says, sitting up on the edge of the bed with his hands gripping the sheets.

“I told you to be patient, Tommy,” you giggle. You swell with pride seeing his furrowed brows and white knuckles as he keeps himself from taking what he wants. It takes a lot to break Iceman down like this, and you’ve clearly been successful.

You take slow steps forward, sauntering over to the bed with a teasing sway of your hips that he can’t pull his eyes away from.

You’re wearing his favorite: delicate white lace that looks like it will rip if you move too fast. He loves seeing you in it; thinks it makes you look so innocent and sweet, even though he knows you’re anything but. Now he’s being teased by his angel, and he swears he’s died and gone to heaven.

You put your knee on the mattress next to his thigh, then hold onto his shoulders as you straddle his lap. He doesn’t grab your hips, which surprises you. You don’t usually take the lead, so you don’t have any rules about him not touching you without permission.

Tom’s eyes are locked on your chest, specifically the mesh cups of the bralette that doesn’t do much to hide the outlines of your nipples. You smile as you grab his wrists and guide his hands to your hips. His fingertips curl around and graze against your ass, which is left mostly bare from the cheeky lace panties.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous, honey,” he says, voice low and gruff with desire.

“Thank you very much, Tommy.”

Having him like this gives you an unfamiliar sense of power. He’s usually so dominant, and you’ve never wanted it any other way, but with his light blue eyes blown wide and his lips parted, you want to see how much teasing he can take before he’s had enough.

“I figured you’d like this… but I didn’t know you’d like it this much,” you tease.

“Wanna take a picture. God, I’d keep it in my wallet and look at it all goddamn day, honey.”

Tom doesn’t usually run his mouth, but right now you seem to have broken down that filter.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea. What if the other guys see?”

“They’d be so jealous. They don’t have a pretty girl like you to get all dressed up for them.”

For some reason, it makes you feel good thinking about how your boyfriend’s coworkers would get jealous from seeing your picture.

“Maybe you should.”

“What?” he looks up at you with his head cocked like a puppy.

“Maybe you should take a picture. So you can remember this, and everything.” Now certainly isn’t the time to get bashful, but Tom’s mouth gaping at you in surprise makes you feel dirty.

“You’re serious?”

“Yes, Tommy. I want you to have something to remember me by when you leave.”

With a whispered curse, Tom lifts you off of his lap and places you on the bed next to him before going over to the nightstand and taking his polaroid camera out of a drawer.

He tells you to lay in the center of the bed and you pose in a way you hope is attractive. You cover your face with your hand, and when you hear the shutter of the camera, you move to sit up, but Tom pushes you back down.

“Can I take more?”

#top gun #tom kazansky #iceman #tom kazansky x reader #iceman x reader #tom iceman kazansky #tom iceman kazansky x reader #top gun smut #top gun fanfiction #kinktober 2022

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madladysix · 5 months

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Missing you

Pairing: Iceman X Fem! Reader

SMUT AHEAD 18+ BE WARNED!!!

Description: after being away from each other a long time you both get it on sexual style (I genuinely cannot help myself with writing that but I also cannot write a good description for this!)

————————————

Tom Kazansky has been away for six months now…letters and photographs of filthy promises was enough to make any man crave the woman he loves, so within the moment of him walking through the door of his shared home…he searched for his lover…there he found her in the shower. Ice began stripping off his clothing getting completely naked and then ripping open the shower curtain staring straight at his lover’s beautiful body ignoring her scream and then giggles of surprise as he quickly maneuvered into the tiny shower…pressing her up against the wall fiercely as he kissed her with all the force of love and hunger in the world.

"Y/n," Iceman moaned into your lips, his free hand sliding between your legs, "Ive missed you more than you could know.” He groaned out, between every kiss and breath he was pressing into your lips deeper, it felt almost like he was sucking in your scent and words with the harshness of his needy kiss, but what made you feel like the Queen of the world was his greedy fingers slipping down your body and towards your folds where gentle circles were placed upon your sensitive mound. Y/n’s moans echoed upon the walls of the steamy bathroom as he continued to tease and please her with his rough digits.

Within moments her legs began shaking with need as he touched her faster, "Please... I can’t take much more Tom..” she begged between her gasps for air, "Soon." he muttered as his fingers began working even faster now, driving her closer to an impending climax but with one last deep-possessive kiss, he pulled back immediately, and moved his cock to press against her core, a small gasp left her mouth which only made him groan in response, this is what he’s longed to hear was her moans…her teasing letters and lewd photos for his eyes only that he received while out on a naval vessel 1000s of miles away from her for six months was uncalled for and only fueled his fire as he fiercely and without warning lifted her up slightly in his muscular arms and shoved his cock into her slick entrance but his movements were slow with pushing inside her, he wanted this to last, but her small gasps filled the steamy room and he knew with how much he needed this it’d be over real soon so as he slowly pulled out and pushed back in, and did this with every inch before filling her up fully he said soft words to her

“I love your eyes…” “I love your voice…” “I love your skin..” he was worshipping being in her presence as he kept a steady rhythm inside of her. Ice groaned loudly as he bit the corner of her neck…Her walls had contracted around him, being far away from her for months on end not getting to see her with the fear of dying in the air came with its perks…moments like these where he can finally feel her, smell her, hear her, and he can finally release all the negative thoughts he has been harboring within his head from being away from her by just being with her right here and right now. "Fuck," he breathed, his hands finding her hips to hold onto as he began to move inside her at a quicker rate, Their bodies slid against each other perfectly, as the water from the showerhead turned cold and dripped onto their steaming bodies, creating a sensual dance with raised skin. After a while of moaning and a

The sound of skin slapping skin..Tom moaned her name gently “y/n..” it wasn’t as possessive as before it was sensitive and feeling as he released within her, she was quick to cum after him as well, they held eachother and did not part, Tom laid his face in the crook of her neck and turned the water off blindly as she held onto her body craving her warmth and soft skin…He was touch deprived and it was obvious he had been through hell in the past few months “Tom?” Y/n asked with her voice low “I’m sorry..” he whispered back with a sad sound to his voice “hey…it’s okay…” she replied with a sound if honesty in her voice as she began to think that usually the after care would be focused solely on her but tonight the aftercare would be for him.

After they got out of the shower after moments of standing there cold and shivering just holding eachother, y/n began drying his body off and getting him comfortable clothes to wear, allowing them time to get dressed in their best possible comfort outfits, she held his hand and assured his every step to the bedroom, this was the difference…you know like medium and range? Although Ice wanted to love his wife…the mental toll of months of pain and hardwork loaded down on him in the matter of moments being with the only person he can trust…and she listened to all of it..she cried with him, laughed with him, but most importantly she stayed right there with him curled up on bed laying with his head on her chest.

#val kilmer x reader #val kilmer #smut #Val Kilmer x yn #val kilmer photos #tom kazansky #tom kazansky x reader #top gun maverick #top gun 1986 #top gun fanfiction #tom iceman kazansky #iceman x reader

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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

Join my taglist!

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foreveraweirdoneslife · 28 days

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Like No Time Has Passed At All [icemav]

(Link to AO3 here)

Summary: The dagger mission was successful and old married icemav are having some fun in the bedroom while Bradley is in the house, too.

A/N: This is just a little smutty idea that plopped into my head after re-watching TGM a couple of days ago and which kept me from continuing with You Can Be My Wingman Anytime. But now that this one is out of my system, I can go back to writing that one too.

Pairing: Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x Tom "Iceman" Kazansky, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Jake "Hangman" Seresin (only implied)

Warnings/content: 18+, porn with plot, porn with feelings, old!icemav, married!icemav, unprotected sex, rough sex, fluff and smut, domesticity.

Word count: 3.7k

The efforts of the last couple of days are still sticking in Mav’s bones but he’s home now and happy. The mission was more than successful. Bradley had asked if he could stay for a night or two before he is sent back to his squadron like the other daggers. Ice is already waiting for Mav to snuggle up in bed with him and honestly, Mav couldn't wish for more right now.

Nevertheless, Mav wants to check in on Bradley and apologize to him once again and maybe already catch up a bit on what has happened in Bradley's life in the years they hadn't talked to each other. So he walks up to Bradley's old room where he is staying now, too.

Mav finds the door to Bradley’s room standing open just a bit and he can hear him talking to someone. He can't catch what exactly Bradley is saying but he sounds happy. The voice which is answering him through the speaker sounds familiar, too, and Mav has an idea who it could be.

As nosy as he is, Mav takes the not fully closed door as an invitation to poke his head through the slit in the door. As expected, Bradley is sitting on his bed, notebook on his lap, talking to the screen.

“Wait a moment,” Bradley says when he notices Mav peeking through the door and looks up at his surrogate dad with a questioning look.

“Hangman?” Mav mouthes.

Bradley rolls his eyes at Mav but a lopsided smile appears on his face and he looks exactly like when he had his first girlfriend.

Mav smiles back at him, gives him a thumbs up and quietly closes the door behind him, leaving the two alone. He can still catch up with Bradley tomorrow.

Mav changes into his pajamas and goes to his bedroom where he finds Ice sitting against the headpiece, reading glasses on and immersed in a book. When Mav comes in, he peeks up from his book with a soft smile but doesn't say anything.

Mav smiles back at Ice and silently crawls into their bed, too, snuggling up to his husband and wrapping one of his arms around Ice’s waist.

“I'm so glad you two finally made peace with each other again,” Ice mumbles and places a kiss on the top of Mav’s head. “Have you talked to him like you wanted to?”

“Not yet,” Mav replies, mumbling against Ice's chest. “He's on a video call with Hangman. Didn't want to disturb them.”

“Lieutenant Seresin?” Ice asks back, surprised.

“Yeah, the two actually remind me a lot of us back in the day,” Mav mumbles with a smile and hoping for them that they will be just as happy with each other like he is with Ice.

“I see,” Ice replies and they fall into a comfortable silence both sucked up in their own thoughts. Mav reminisces in memories of when he and Ice had first started to hang out with each other back in ‘86.

“You don't mind me finishing this chapter, do you?” Ice asks then and it's not really a question because at some point in their thirty-odd years together this has become a routine for them. Ice going to bed earlier, enjoying a good book. Mav joining him later, quietly snuggling up to him after a stressful day at work, enjoying Ice’s loving warmth. When Ice is finished, they go over to sleeping - or sleeping with each other.

“Not at all,” Mav replies like he does every time. For some minutes, they just cuddle like this. Ice still reading. Mav cuddling with his husband.

At some point, Mav's hand drops to Ice’s thigh and he starts to draw little circles on the fabric of Ice's pajama pants. He would much rather like to go for option two today instead of simply sleeping.

Ice continues reading but one of his arms now wraps around Mav’s waist and his hand slips into the backside of Mav’s briefs. Ice keeps his hand just resting there but Mav knows that it means that he doesn't want to sleep, either. After so many years, they understand each other silently, no words needed.

As if coincidentally, Mav lets his hand softly brush over the fabric covering Ice’s limp dick. Ice breathes out languishly. “Mav,” he scolds him in a whisper but Mav knows that Ice is not serious about it because he starts to softly knead one of Mav's buttocks.

“Am I distracting you, Admiral?” Mav whispers and he feels Ice's dick twitch below his hand. He first found out that it turns Ice on when Mav drops his rank in bed when it had slipped his mouth right after Ice's promotion to Lieutenant Commander. The first promotion he had gotten after they became a couple. Since then Mav has occasionally made use of it because he knows that Ice loves to hear it from time to time and Mav loves to say it, too, because sometimes he still can't believe that he is actually married to the COMPACFLT.

Back in the day, Ice would have been fully erect by now. Nowadays, it took him longer but Mav didn't care. They both were old now and their bodies simply didn't work anymore like they did in their twenties. Mav loves Ice's body now just as much as he did thirty years ago and his own body isn't as quick as it used to be, either. So, it really doesn't matter and somehow Mav even loves it that it takes both of them longer to get there because it gives him the opportunity to tease Ice more, to slowly seduce him until he wants to take him just as desperately as when they were young.

Mav starts to softly stroke Ice through the fabric. He doesn't pretend anymore that it’s coincidental and he can feel how Ice slowly hardens in his hand. Ice lets a finger slip in between Mav’s buttocks, slowly moving it back and forth. Mav feels himself harden, too, and grinds against Ice’s thigh letting him know what he's doing to him.

Ice finally closes his book one handedly and puts it on the nightstand together with his glasses. Mav suspects that he already hadn't been reading for quite some minutes now but it's his sign of telling Mav that he’s ready for more.

So Mav straddles him, still fully clothed, and starts dry-humping him slowly. A deep moan escapes Ice’s lips but the moment it's out he covers his mouth with his hand.

“Shit, Bradley's here,” he mumbles a second later but Mav shuts him up with his lips on Ice’s, smiling into the kiss. Mav suddenly feels twenty years younger. Back when Bradley was living with them, Ice had always been so cautious not to be heard by Bradley but it had only rarely worked out. He knows that, both of them know that because teenage Bradley didn't shy away from telling them on a regular basis.

Mav’s mouth goes wandering down Ice's jawline, then onto his neck. He cherishes Ice's throat scar with his lips, one of the remnants of the terrible battle they have fought together and Ice has finally won. Mav knows of course that it can come back but for now Ice is well and that is all that matters.

When Mav slowly reaches the neckline of Ice's pajama top, he doesn't hesitate long but quickly gets rid of it and pulls it over Ice's head. Then he continues to plant sloppy kisses on Ice’s chest until he arrives at one of his nipples and twirls his tongue around it.

Ice lets his head fall back against the headpiece and he bites his lip in a desperate attempt not to moan. Mav hasn't seen Ice like this in years because normally, Ice is loud. Always has been. And both of them love it but today it's different. Today they're not alone in the house and for now, Ice seems to be determined to keep quiet.

Fully aware that it will take Ice's full willpower not to moan out loudly, Mav continues to twirl his tongue around Ice’s nipples in between kisses and while still riding him. Ice gasps and squirms underneath him. Then he’s ramming his hips up against Mav and Mav loves to see him like this. Desperate for Mav’s body, desperate for more.

Ice unambiguously tugs at Mav’s shirt and Mav gets rid of that, too. Now it's his turn to bite back a moan because Ice starts roaming over Mav’s upper body with his long, slender fingers, pulling him down to kiss him feverishly and still thrusting against him. Ice lets his hands travel down to Mav’s butt cheeks, squeezing them firmly, pulling them apart and Mav desperately needs to get rid of his remaining clothes now. So he quickly shuffles his pajama pants and his briefs down in one go and sits back up on Ice’s hips, fully naked.

Ice slowly, languishly lets his eyes wander over Mav’s body until his sight shamelessly rests between Mav’s legs. Ice lasciviously licks his slightly parted lips and Mav’s dick twitches in anticipation. Ice grips Mav’s hips and drags. Mav knows what he’s implying here. Mav smirks, their hungry eyes meet for a second and he pulls himself up on his knees.

Mav looks down and quietly sighs at the gorgeous sight in front of him. He sees Ice staring at his throbbing cock and liking his lips again. Ice takes his time and Mav loves it but hates it at the same time. He wants to be touched, to be welcomed by the wet warmth of Ice’s mouth. But Ice takes his time because he knows exactly how to tease Mav.

Ice caresses the backside of Mav’s thighs, slowly moving upwards to cup his cheeks, kneading them slowly but firmly. Like this, Ice pulls Mav just a bit closer and then he takes him into his mouth. Mav grabs the headpiece to support himself and lets out a loud moan, ignoring the fact that he should stay quiet because this feels just too good. Ice starts bobbing his head back and forth, his tongue varying between the underside and the tip of his cock. Mav is breathing heavily and Ice knows exactly what he’s doing here. He glances up at Mav and his eyes glisten impishly before his right hand moves further around to Mav’s butt crack. He pulls his cheeks apart with his other hand and lets a finger brush lightly across his entrance. Mav gasps breathlessly and already can't wait to sink in on Ice when he has prepared him.

Ice continues to work on Mav's dick while teasing his hole. After a couple of minutes, Mav is panting heavily and he has to pull away if he doesn't want to come early. Ice lets him sit back down on his hips and Mav leans down to kiss him, tasting himself on Ice’s slick lips.

“You're driving me crazy,” he whispers against Ice’s lips.

“I know,” Ice smirks, his voice deep and heavy with arousal and Mav kisses him again with all the love and passion he’s never lost in all those years.

Ice sighs into Mav’s mouth and still kissing him, Mav notices him blindly reaching for the nightstand. Mav backs away from the kiss and quickly helps him to get the bottle of lube out of the drawer.

Lovingly smiling at each other and excitement sparkling in their eyes, Ice holds out his hand and Mav clicks the bottle open, letting the velvety liquid drip down on Ice’s fingers. Ice spreads it there and Mav puts the bottle away before closing his eyes and leaning down to kiss Ice again and at the same giving him better access.

Ice’s hand quickly wanders back between Mav’s butt cheeks and he brushes his index finger over Mav’s entrance again, making Mav hum in pleasure. Then he applies a bit more pressure and slowly pushes his finger in. Mav sharply breathes in but his exhale is already a deep moan. He’s relaxed, knows what it feels like to have Ice inside him and still just simply loves it every time.

Ice starts moving, slowly fucking Mav with his finger and Mav mirrors the movement with his whole body, eyes closed, softly moaning with each thrust, their plan, well, mostly Ice’s plan to stay quiet already long forgotten. It doesn't take Ice long to add another finger, then a third and Mav becomes greedy. Ice’s fingers aren't enough. He wants Ice to fill him completely. Ice slowly pulls his fingers out and Mav whimpers for a split second but it's okay because he knows that it will only even get better.

Ice tugs at his own pajama pants now and because Mav is still straddling him, he shuffles a bit and helps him, yanking both the pants and boxers down in one motion. Mav takes a moment to impudently take in the gorgeous sight in front of him. No matter how often he has already seen Ice like this - naked, in their bed, breathing heavily and with a thick, throbbing cock just for him - he just knows he will never get enough of it, of him.

“Like what you see?” Ice smirks lavishly.

“As if you didn't know that already,” Mav replies and leans forward again to kiss Ice fervently.

In this position, Mav’s butt is already touching Ice’s dick and he feels it bumping against his crack. Mav doesn't want to wait any longer and reaches for the bottle of lube again. This time, Ice helps him to get it. Mav spreads the liquid on his fingers before he gives Ice's cock a couple of strokes. Ice hums in pleasure and immediately starts thrusting into Mav's hand greedily. Mav loves to see him like this, loves that his husband still wants him so desperately. Mav wants Ice just as much and so he starts aligning himself so that he can sink down on Ice easily.

What they are about to do is by far their favorite, most used position, that is Mav riding Ice slowly until both can't get ahold of themselves anymore. Mav loves it this way and he knows that Ice loves it, too. In earlier years, they switched positions more often and sometimes Mav actually misses to be pounded into the mattress by Ice but that hasn't happened in years. Specifically, not since Ice’s battle with cancer. It's undeniable that the disease has worn him down physically and it also has left more than one mark on both of them emotionally. And that's why Mav is grateful for every additional day he can spend with Ice. It doesn’t matter that their sex is not the same anymore as it was ten years ago because it’s still so much better than he would have thought it would be considering their age and what they have gone through. But that is actually an understatement because honestly, he can't imagine having better sex than he has now.

Next thing, however, Mav knows he's on his back, Ice hovering over him. “Tom,” he whispers and Ice looks at him with the cocky smirk he's never lost.

Mav’s heart is pounding heavily in his chest and for the first time in forever he actually feels nervous before sleeping with Ice. Excited? Yes, still every time. But nervous? Maybe the first time they had sex again after Ice's cancer treatment because it had been such a long time without and they weren't sure if everything would work out - it did in the end - but even that was already a couple of years ago now.

Ice pushes himself on his knees, Mav laid out in front of him, bare-naked and excited to be banged in a position they haven't done in years. Ice grins down at him and firmly grabs Mav’s hips, pulling him closer and propping him up a bit. Mav gasps in surprise because only seconds ago he didn't know that Ice is still so strong - or better is so strong again - and Mav is turned on by that even more than he already is, his hard cock twitching as if emphasizing his thoughts.

Ice adjusts himself and then finally, Mav feels Ice enter him, slowly but in one go. Mav can't restrain himself from crying out in pleasure and Ice groans, too. He gives both of them a bit of time to adjust to the feeling and leans down to kiss Mav heatedly for a moment, before he slowly starts thrusting. For a moment, Mav keeps his eyes open, taking in the sight of Ice hovering above him, eyes closed, lips slightly parted, moaning under his breath. Then Mav’s eyes fall shut and he’s panting because Ice is intensifying both pace and vigor now.

Ice shifts back on his knees, firmly grabs Mav's hips again and now he is actually pounding Mav hard. His thrusts are rough and his pace is unrelenting and Mav just loves it. He hasn't felt like this in years. His cock is bouncing wildly between their bodies, sometimes slapping either against his own or Ice's stomach and everything just feels so good.

He looks up at Ice, their fiery eyes meet and Ice smirks at him in such a dirty, lewd way that Mav is immediately very close to coming. Ice is still fucking him adamantly but his movements become more erratic, too. Both of them are moaning with each thrust now and Ice reaches for Mav's dick, stroking him in rhythm with his thrusts.

Then Mav squirms and arches his back. His eyes roll back into his head and with a long and languish moan he comes on his stomach in several thick jolts. Ice keeps thrusting through Mav’s orgasm but Mav is clenching hard around him and that pushes him over the edge, too, groaning loudly.

Ice collapses on top of Mav, breathing heavily. They softly kiss each other and with a loving smile, Mav gently strokes away a stray strand of hair from Ice’s forehead which has been sticking there sweatily.

Ice smacks another kiss on Mav's lips and slowly pulls out. Mav feels Ice’s cum dripping out of him and knows that he will be sore for the next couple of days but he couldn't care less because it will inevitably remind him every waking hour of how perfectly he just got railed by his hot husband.

Then they both quickly clean up themselves and the mess they’ve made before crawling back to bed and snuggling up against each other, Mav’s head resting on Ice’s chest.

“Didn't know you still had it in you like that,” Mav mumbles appreciatively, softly tracing the stripes on Ice’s pajama top with his finger tips.

“You know what? Me neither. I guess having Bradley in the house makes me feel younger,” Ice chuckles deeply and Mav feels his chest vibrating.

“Maybe we should invite him over from time to time now that everything is fine again,” Mav laughs.

“That would be so inappropriate,” Ice scolds him but can’t keep himself from laughing, too.

“Has that ever stopped me?” Mav answers challengingly.

Ice just shakes his head but smiles. “Good night, Pete,” he replies resolutely and kisses his husband goodnight.

–

The next morning, Mav and Ice come down into the kitchen to find Bradley already sitting at their table, a cup of coffee at his side and a bowl of froot loops together with a bottle of milk in front of him.

Froot loops have been Bradley's favorite cereals for as long as Mav can remember. So they had become a permanent feature in their kitchen ever since Bradley had moved in with them. Over time, however, Ice has grown fond of them, too, and so they still always keep a pack or two, just in case Ice wants to eat some out of the blue.

Sitting there like this, Bradley looks exactly like his teenage self, only that he’s twenty years older now and smiling at the screen of his smartphone whose future existence hadn't even been known back then. As soon as he notices his surrogate dads’ presence, he locks his phone, puts it on the table and looks up at them, chewing.

“If you like our froot loops so much, why don't you come over more often,” Mav suggests with a smirk that is screaming shenanigan before Ice can stop him. Instead, he just rolls his eyes at him and shakes his head but is nevertheless smiling.

“Am I right in assuming that this is not about froot loops or the fact that you missed me so much?” Bradley asks, scooping another spoon of cereal into his mouth.

“Yes,” Ice replies with a nod.

“And am I also right in assuming that I don't want to know what it's really about?” Bradley continues, obviously interpreting the look on Mav’s face correctly.

Ice confirms that again and walks over to the kitchen cupboard. He takes out another bowl and a spoon and sits down next to Bradley before making himself a bowl of froot loops, too.

The whole time, Mav just keeps standing in the door frame, leaning against it with his arms crossed. He smiles and for a moment, he just watches his two boys interact with each other and eat the most silly type of cereal in the world. Then he pours himself a cup of coffee, too, and sits down opposite the two.

“I've been such a fool,” Bradley suddenly drops in between two spoons, shaking his head and Mav just frowns at him. “For thinking that I could for once sleep here without being pestered by your old men’s noises.”

Mav immediately sees Ice’s face turn red and how he innocently shovels another spoon of cereal into his mouth.

“You’ve once lived here for years. Don't tell me you didn't know what you’re embarking on,” Mav replies with a shrug.

“Jake even asked me in what kind of filthy motel I'm staying that I have to endure those terrible noises and if he needs to lend me some money so that I can get a room in a proper hotel,” Bradley goes on, ignoring Mav’s comment.

“Jake, huh?” Mav counters and smirks wantonly.

Ice laughs, Bradley’s ears turn bright pink and it feels like no time has passed at all.

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mess-with-a-purpose · 2 years

Text

Midnight Love Calls

Pairing: Tom “Iceman” Kazansky x afab!reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: SMUT/NSFW (18+) minors please go away or I will take your phone, overstimulation, cum eating, oral (f receiving), face fucking, slight dirty talk, established relationship, AFTERCARE because ice is a gENTLEMAN, fluff

“Tom, please, I can’t–” his head was between your thighs for the second time that night, spurring your fourth orgasm of the evening. Every touch on your clit felt like an electric spasm and his tongue was maintaining a maddening technique. Every sensation rolled through your body as Tom’s fingers and tongue lapped up his own cum that had spilled out of you.

Tom glanced up at you sweetly, his dominant presence flickered behind his eyes as he continued to drive you insane. Thighs clenched around his ears, you moved your hips against his mouth at an alarming rate, the desire to meet your final high consumed your consciousness. Fingers yanked at his hair as you steadied his head to buck your hips against his lips and nose. Catching on, he removed his fingers to focus solely on your swollen clit. His hands, slick with the mixture of your cum, cupped your thighs as he flattened his tongue to accommodate your thrusts.

“Fuck my face, baby,” his voice was dark, desire peeking through as he groaned against your dripping slit. His tongue flattened against you, your hips finding their rhythm. You felt euphoric, chasing the pleasure relentlessly as you reached for his hand. Tom never took his eyes from you, his fingers weaving with yours as you toppled over the ultimate edge, thighs already slick with both of your previous climaxes. Devilish sounds filled the room, a symphony created from your squeaked moans paired with messy, slurped licks rolls you through the initial wave. However, Tom wasn’t quite finished with you. His mouth covered your slit, catching your essence but never letting up with his own symphony of desire. The messy pops and slurps cause you to bite down on your lip as the urge to scream burns in your raw throat. The only thing keeping you somewhat grounded was the feeling of his hair between your fingers, the damp sheets against your back, and Tom’s fingers kneading your skin.

He was addicted to seeing you like this; sprawled out underneath him as he brought you endless pleasure. He loved seeing your face contort with desire; your brow knitting together while your lips form a perfect “O” just before you take in a sharp breath to meet your finish. This was the first time he’d go for five and he knew you’d need the attention after, especially having gone the last six months without each other. The intensity beckoned tears to the corner of your eyes, slipping toward your temples as the aftershock turned into an explosion. You felt yourself tense as Tom stroked the skin around your hips, guiding you through your very last orgasm of the night. His sinful tongue causes you to let out a silent scream, your silence morphing into a yelp as you squeezed his hand before your hips bucked one final time.

Chest tight, your breaths came in shudders as you clenched your eyes shut through the aftershock. Tom placed a careful kiss against your slit, a hiss escaping your lips at the sensitivity of your clit brushing his nose. His hands massaged your quivering thighs, slowly settling them back down onto the damp sheets.

“Please, no more, Tom. I–I can’t,” your voice was small and breathy as Tom moved up your body, leaving soft and gentle kisses along your skin. You felt charged, each press of his lips seemed to set off a spark aftershock. God, you’d missed him.

“I know, sweetheart. It’s alright,” he whispered, his fingers cupping your jaw. More tears fell from your eyes, Tom’s body going stiff as his thumb stroked your damp skin. You had yet to open your eyes, stuck behind the galaxy of stars bursting in the dark.

“Oh, god, baby, are you alright? Did I hurt you?” Tom’s voice was gentle but concerned, his gaze scanning along your shivering body.

You felt for his hand, clenching your fingers around his to anchor yourself. “N-no, Tom,” you licked your lips, slowly opening your eyes to look at him. “I–it was ju–just a lot.”

Tom’s face softened. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he kissed your knuckles, bringing them under his chin. “I should’ve been more careful.” You felt the tremors slowly settle, legs limp and heavy as you tried to curl against his bare chest. He hesitates for a moment, a look of confusion glossing over your eyes. “Let me get you cleaned up first.”

You whine, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him to you. You knew the routine. This first part meant he would get up from the bed and you were reluctant to let your anchor go adrift. Tom pressed a firm kiss to your forehead before gently settling your arms at your chest, pulling a blanket to cover you as he headed to the bathroom. You hear the tap run as you let your eyes flutter shut. The mattress dipped underneath Tom’s weight as he returned to you.

“Sweetheart, is it okay if I–” he interrupts himself as he sees you nod, eyes still closed. “I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

His fingers tickle over your skin as he spreads your legs, the towel pleasantly warm as he wiped down your thighs and slit. You let out a whimper, the strokes getting too close to your overly sensitive clit. Tom immediately stopped, closing your legs and tucking them back under the blanket. He crossed the room, headed towards the record player perched on your shared dresser to flip the switch on the needle; a soft click followed by music that filled the room with a gentle beat. The mattress dipped again as he returned from the bathroom to hang up the towel and grab a glass of water.

“Here,” he helps you sit up on your elbows, pulling the blanket across your chest. “Drink some of this, sweetheart.” His arm caged you in as he watched you carefully take the glass from his hand, lips caressing your head.

You obeyed, eagerly drinking half of the glass before coming up for air. Tom saw as your elbows shook under the weight of your torso, still reeling from your mind blowing session. He pressed his lips to your bare shoulder, then your cheek. He rested his forehead against yours, fingers trailing lovingly up your arm as you both soaked in the moment held together by music.

“I love you,” he said, his voice was tender to match his touch.

You felt tears prickle at the corners of your eyes. You’d heard Tom say it a million times before, the latest had been over hurried phone calls. You remember one time when Tom had to miss your scheduled call time, something with work had kept him. It had been about midnight your time, but you could never sleep with Tom gone so you had perched yourself on the porch to read. When the phone rang, you had flinched; a bad time to read a thriller, you’d decided. Picking up the phone, you didn’t even have time to get out a “hello” and you heard a rushed “Tom Kazansky loves Y/N” before the line clicked. You’d loved your Navy man, midnight love calls and all.

“And I love you,” tears slipped down your cheeks, fingers quickly wiping them away. You licked your lips once again, opening the blanket for him. “Will you hold me?”

“Of course, baby.”

Tom took the glass from your hand, setting it on the nightstand, not caring about the potential ring it would leave on the wood. You scoot over the best you can, your legs shaking with any weight put on them and Tom drapes your body over his. He tenderly kissed your hair as you settled against his chest, his fingertips ghosting across your skin to draw meaningless patterns that soothed you. Sure, you loved the sex you had with Tom. He was always so attentive and knew how to leave you satisfied. But it was in those moments where you felt the true intimacy, the vulnerability. Tom was not a man to express himself outwardly, except with you.

“I think we beat our own record,” you joked, Tom letting out a chuckle against your hair as his hands ran down your arm. You felt his lips press against your head, warm and soothing.

An inviting squeeze compacted you against his chest, your cheek nuzzled against his skin as you eyed his dog tags. “Are you alright, baby?” his voice flickered with a gentleness that made your heart flutter.

Tracing your fingers along his chain, you nod before kissing his peck. A smile grazed your lips as you felt his hand stroke your arm. “Guess you missed me, huh, Lieutenant?” you giggled against his skin, suddenly bashful as the last couple of hours played back in your head.

“More than you know.”

“Me too,” you whispered, relaxing against his body as the occasional shudder quaked through your nerves. His heartbeat thumped in your ear, breaths soothing as your head rose and fell with his chest. Your eyelids felt heavy, fluttering closed as your record shut off, the needle clicking back into its holder as if waiting for the next task. Nothing but your breathing in the room as you drift into sleep’s waiting arms.

Just before you let yourself succumb to your fatigue, you give Tom a squeeze. “Y-you’ll be here, right? When I wake up?” You couldn't bear to meet his eyes.

Tom knew the concern in your voice, the fear, the pain. It killed him inside to hear you like that. His hands cupped your head, lips pressed softly against yours, foreheads resting against each other. “I promise.”

“It’s just…” you trailed off, remembering the morning he left for his last assignment. A part of you was always scared of falling asleep in his arms because you would usually wake up alone in the morning.

Tom stroked his thumb against your cheek, eyes closed. “I know and I promise.”

“Okay,” your voice was softer without the music to fill any space. You knew it seemed ridiculous; it was the reality of his job and you knew that. You couldn’t think about it now, though, or it would force you to drift too far away from the reality you were holding in that moment. Anchoring yourself to him, you smile before lightening the mood. “I need to let you in on a secret, Lieutenant.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

You bit your lip, preparing for the punchline. “Y/N loves Tom Kazansky!”

As you buried your head in his chest to mute your giggle, his laugh from deep within his belly, he squeezed you again. “And Tom Kazansky loves Y/N.”

Spent from your evening activities and the built up exhaustion from Tom’s absence, you felt your eyes flutter closed as you heard him hum softly. His fingers continued to trail across your skin, breath gently blowing your hair, arms encasing you against his body.

It was the best you’d slept in months.

A/N: I hope y’all enjoyed! I’m still getting the hang of writing smut that doesn’t sound too technical so, if anyone has some gentle tips/suggestions, please let me know! :)

#tom kazansky #tom kazansky x reader #tom iceman kazansky #tom iceman kazansky x reader #top gun smut #top gun #val kilmer #top gun fic #tom kazansky smut #val kilmer smut

794 notes · View notes

callsignthirsty · 3 months

Text

Stuck at the Navy Ball

So… I decided I wasn’t done playin’ with the boys.

As this is a continuation of the original Stuck in the Middle fic, I highly recommend that you read through that before diving into this. Could you dive headfirst into this? Yes. There might be a little confusion, though.

Inspired by a comment someone left on SitM over on AO3.

Pairing: Tom “Iceman” Kazansky x F!Reader x Ron “Slider” Kerner Summary: You, Ice, and Sli haven’t lost that loving feeling. So when the flyboys are reunited at the 1986 Navy Ball, it's only natural that they bring a bit of chaos with them. Word Count: 4200 Warnings: Smut, bets and wagers, under-negotiated situations (but everyone involved is fine), fingering Chapter: 1/4 Minors DNI

gif originally posted by neuromancer1888

Chapter 1: Under the Table

The invitation arrives early in September, printed on thick cardstock and addressed to your brother. But if Viper’s words are to be believed—and you’ve yet to hear of a situation in which they aren’t—Pete’s attendance isn’t exactly optional. So the summons finds its way from the trash onto the fridge, rough edges taped back together.

Please Join Us For the 211th Navy Ball. Monday, October 13th Washington D.C.

Cocktail Hour 1700 | Ceremony Begins 1800 Live Music. Food. Dancing.

The same invitation has Carole positively giddy. Born and raised in Virginia, she’s been looking for an excuse to fly east to visit her parents. And for a party? Isn’t that swell! Arrangements are made for Bradley to sleep at his grandparents on the night of the ball before Goose—whose PT-mandated wheelchair has landed him desk duty—is home from work.

Which is how, roughly one month later, you find yourself in Goose’s room at the Hyatt Regency on Capitol Hill, sharing precious mirror space with Carole. Breathing in Aqua Net while putting the finishing touches on your looks.

The hotel calls the four of you a taxi, Goose’s wheelchair is stuffed into the trunk, and then you’re off to meet your date.

Singular.

There hadn’t been a question of if you’d attend or whose arm you’d decorate once Pete’s invite arrived. Officially, you’re at the ball with Ice. After Layton, Ice had made it a point to be seen with you while he was off-duty. Your relationship, which you’d tried to keep on the down-low, was worth showing off publicly after he and your brother had dropped their rivalry in favor of mutual respect. Friendship.

But the other half of your relationship was still very much under wraps.

That fact hadn’t stopped you from nodding eagerly when Ice pulled you close to ask you to attend the Navy Ball with him. Ice wants to climb the ladder, and earning stars is more than clambering into the cockpit every morning or disappearing on a carrier for the better part of a year at a time. It’s politics. It’s achieving perceived milestones on or ahead of schedule. And in October, for Lieutenant Tom “Iceman” Kazansky, naval aviator and promotion hopeful, it’s attending the Navy Ball with a woman on his arm.

Pete wrestles the wheelchair out of the trunk while Goose pays the cab driver. As you step into the crisp October evening, you marvel at the palatial, white-stone building that is to be the backdrop of your night. A steady flow of servicemen and women crossing beneath grand archways with their dates for the promise of a good night.

You aren’t left alone to gawk for long before you catch sight of them chatting with someone or another: decked in their whites, Slider leaning against the wrought iron rail and Ice to his side. Ice’s gaze flicks to you instantaneously, as if he’d felt your eyes land on him. The natural pout of his lips morphs into a grin as he excuses himself from the conversation and moves toward you against the flow of the crowd. Slider follows close behind, ultimately making his way to Goose, Carole, and your brother. But you catch the hesitation in his step. The course-correct.

Events like these will be challenging for the three of you—that had been a foregone conclusion—but this knowledge doesn’t make it any easier. It feels all sorts of wrong to have Slider keep himself at such a purposeful distance when you’re used to his proximity. Even at the O Club, he manages to stand close. Doesn’t shy away.

Before your mood can be irreparably embittered, Ice takes your hand in his and coaxes you into a slow spin. “You’re beautiful,” he coos as he kisses your cheek, and a delicate smile lights your lips.

The dress had been a surprise. Something you’d insisted on buying yourself despite Ice and Slider offering to pool their money for something truly extravagant. But after years spent in the foster system, even the thought of spending money on something so frivolous left a bad taste in your mouth. Instead, you’d taken Carole, your more comfortable budget, and found an old gala dress at a thrift shop. The sleek, black velvet gown up to your collarbones with the slightest sparkle as the fabric shifted beneath the store’s old lights ticked all your self-imposed boxes. A dress fit for an aspirational young officer’s date, even after Carole added a slit up the left side to show a little leg and “bring the dress into this decade.”

“Look who’s talking,” you say, squeezing Ice’s arm as it’s offered to you. Typically, the change of season calls for blues, but the Navy Ball is an exception to the rule. You wonder whose wife you have to thank for that because although your boys look damn fine in both, you have a not-so-hidden preference. “And Kerner didn’t clean up so bad, either,” you shoot in Slider’s direction with a playful grin.

“Surprised?” Slider asks, brow raised. You shrug because, no, you’re not surprised, but you aren’t sure what to say that will fly under the radar. And that’s the name of the night’s game. That doesn’t stop Pete from rolling his eyes as he passes you with Goose and Carole on their way to the building’s ramp.

The closest you ever got to a ball before tonight was prom—not yours; you’d been on staff at the venue. Frankly, you’d half expected you and Pete to have been blacklisted, given your father’s ill-gotten reputation, but they let you in without issue. You wonder if Pete’s face appearing on the front page of every magazine in the English-speaking world has anything to do with it, but you keep that to yourself while Ice, ever the gentleman, escorts you further into the event.

If the outside of the building is beautiful, then the inside is magnificent: all barrel vaulted ceilings decorated with Romanesque gold leafing and warm mahogany. A vast hall that steadily fills as guests arrive for cocktail hour and to mingle before the evening officially kicks off.

Slider spots Carole’s shock of blonde hair by a table with easy access for Goose and herds Ice in her direction. They aren’t alone at the table. “Merlin,” Slider barks, bounding over to shake his fellow RIO’s hand. “I thought you were stationed over the Atlantic. What’re you doing here?”

“Turned out to be an exercise. Over and back in sixty-two days.”

“And just in time for the party,” the woman at his side chips in, and Merlin wraps an arm around her to pull her close.

“Oh! Tom Kazansky, Ron Kerner, my wife, Laura.” Ice takes the opportunity to introduce you in turn. The conversation is easy-going, Ice and Slider filling Merlin in on their time instructing at Miramar.

Slider gets in several quips about Ice having a list of officers whose asses he needs to kiss to speed up a promotion when Ice spies one of said officers. He gently tugs you in the right direction so you can play the part of the doting girlfriend. The officer—a captain—quickly introduces you to his wife before he and Ice talk shop.

You manage to pluck a champagne flute from a waiter’s tray, sipping daintily and nodding along with the captain’s wife. Considering most of your knowledge concerning the Navy revolves around the planes your brother flies and the stunts he’s pulled in them, the conversation goes in one ear and out the other.

Not that it matters. Your role tonight—thankfully—is just to follow Ice around and look pretty.

The captain’s wife finishes her champagne in record time, and though you’re hesitant at first, you aren’t too far behind her. It is at this point, glass empty, that Slider appears like your guardian angel. “Captain,” he nods. “Ice.”

“Captain Reid, have you met my RIO?” Ice asks, knowing full well that Slider has no interest in schmoozing. Much like your brother, Slider is there because it is expected of him. Unlike Pete, Ice doesn’t need his friend’s emotional support or commiseration to make it through such events, mandatory or otherwise. Every opportunity like this is one Ice can use to his advantage.

Slider offers the captain a firm handshake. “Lieutenant Ron Kerner, sir.”

“Your RIO? I thought you were stationed at Miramar?”

“The perks of winning the trophy, sir,” pride leaks through as Slider says it. He and Ice worked damn hard to finish at the top of their class. “We’ve been together since flight school. When Ice took a teaching position at TOPGUN, I followed.”

“And how does a man of your stature fit in the cockpit, lieutenant?” the captain’s wife asks from beneath heavily painted lashes.

The grin Slider offers her is loose. “It’s a bit of a squeeze, but no complaints so far.” The minute narrowing of Ice’s eyes says behave. You nearly avoid snorting, hiding the unladylike compulsion behind the rim of your empty flute, a reflection off the crystal drawing Slider’s eye.

“Actually,” Slider says, hand twitching as if he’s had to stop himself from resting it against your back, “I noticed your glass is empty.” Sli nods toward the bar, an invitation to refill your glass. You look up at him with a grin—a genuine one, not the soft smile that’s grown stale throughout Ice’s conversation—acceptance on your lips when–

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Ice’s brow wrinkles, noticing for the first time that you’ve finished your drink.

”I didn’t want to interrupt,” is your bashful answer.

”Don’t be ridiculous,” Ice says. “I’ll come with you.”

”You don’t have to leave.” Slider will take care of me, you don’t say.

Ice picks up on the silent part but blatantly ignores it. His eyes take on that warm, charmed look, tongue peeking out before his lips curl into that honeyed smile you love so much. “You’re too good for me,” he says as if it’s a secret meant only for you. There’s no doubt he means it, but something about the way he’s playing the sentiment up for the brass makes it feel different in a way you’re not entirely comfortable with. No mistakes. “If you’ll excuse us, sir. Ma’am.”

Captain Reid is already turning to walk the room with his wife when Ice’s eyes narrow into what can only be described as a glare at Slider, his arm cementing itself around your waist in a way that probably looks far more relaxed than it feels.

”What?” Slider asks, shooting for casual, but now you’re not sure you’re buying it, either. “I’m just trying to do my part so you can talk to everyone on your list.” The subconscious flex of Ice’s jaw, as if he wishes he could chew out his frustration on the butt of a cig or some gum, doesn’t go unnoticed, but it does go unheeded. “Admiral Benjamin is on your list, right?” You perk up. As in Penny Benjamin? “I think I saw him by the corner with wife number three and Commander Johnson.”

“You know,” Ice says, his grin glacial, “it wouldn’t be such a bad thing if you rubbed elbows at an event like this.”

Slider scoffs, though it’s affectionate. “Why bother? We both know my military career ends when you take a desk job. Besides, I think my time is much better spent keeping your date’s cup full.” You’ve all agreed to go to the bar, but no one is moving. The tension between Ice and Slider is palpable.

”Okay,” you interrupt. There’s something off about their banter tonight. You’ve seen Ice stare down many a handful of people since landing in Miramar, but never Slider. It’s enough to raise a sculpted brow. “What am I missing?”

Slider senses blood in the water. Sees the smoke in the air. The grin he gives you is far tighter than the one he gave the captain’s wife. He opens his mouth, but Ice beats him to the punch. “You said something about grabbing my date a drink.”

Slider’s jaw clicks shut, but his grin isn’t so easily wiped away. “More champagne?” When you nod, Slider picks his way toward the bar while Ice escorts you to the side of the room where there’s more room to breathe and a lesser likelihood that someone will overhear when he presses close. “Sli’s upset that you’re with me tonight.”

That’s it? You hadn’t thought the arrangement would bother Slider so much. The three of you had discussed it and mutually concluded that you should go with Ice. That you had to go with Ice. Was Slider having second thoughts?

“Well, not upset,” Ice concedes at the concern that drags your lips down. “But he was talking a big game.”

Color you curious. “What’d he say?”

“Well,” Ice pulls you closer so his breath tickles your ear and you can smell the mint on his breath, “he thinks he can get you off before we leave the building. Steal you away while you’re being my pretty little girlfriend for the brass.” You gulp. Where is Slider with that drink?

”Oh.”

Ice chuckles. “Yeah. Oh. But I’m not worried.” Two fingers find their way under your chin and lift until your eyes meet Ice’s. “I know you’ll be good for me.”

“What’s the winner get?”

”Bragging rights.”

”And?”

It’s impossible to miss the way Ice’s eyes flit to your lips and linger there because he can. Those are the perks of being your date out in the light of day. “Can’t that be it?”

“Could be,” you breathe and slowly wet your bottom lip with your tongue, delighting in the way gray-blue eyes track the movement, “but it isn’t.”

Ice double-checks that no one is eavesdropping on your conversation. “You remember what got delivered the other day?” Your breath hitches. Yeah. You remember the catalog order you’d put in for a remote-controlled toy. The excitement and disappointment that had come with unfortunate delivery schedules. “Single-night, exclusive access once we’re all home.”

”That’s quite a lot on the line.”

”It would be,” Ice concedes, one large hand spanning the small of your back, warming you and holding you close enough you can breathe in his cologne, “but you can be good for me, right, baby? I’ll make it worth your while.” You nod, a little dumb as you inhale teakwood, sage, and sea salt.

It’s sure to be a profoundly satisfying night as long as you can stick to the script.

“I’m not going to make it easy on you,” Slider promises, appearing by Ice’s shoulder.

”Wouldn’t be fun if you did.” Ice’s smirk is all cocky confidence, cracking only when he notices Slider has only fetched two flutes of champagne.

”Only got two hands, Tommy,” Slider says with a toothy grin, “but I’ll keep her company while you grab yourself a glass.” The crystal buzzes with the steady fizz of bubbles, your fingers brushing Sli’s ever so slightly before Ice pulls you back into the throng.

The room becomes more difficult to navigate with each new attendee, but Ice only seems more in his element as cocktail hour drags on. He introduces you to a flurry of officers and their wives whose jewel-tone dresses all start to blend together, brushing shoulders with the men who ultimately control his upward trajectory.

On his arm, you smile and nod, interjecting where appropriate because, despite the smattering of female officers present, the Navy remains very much a boy’s club.

Still, it’s nice to be shown off so publicly. To delight in the knowledge that Ice’s attention never strays far from you despite his planned schmoozing. You preen each time he introduces you to someone new with a tender look—there are many things tonight that may be manufactured, but that look isn’t one of them.

An ache blooms in the ball of your foot as Ice delivers on the same script over and over to increasingly dismal company. The throbbing is nothing compared to the pinpricks in your cheeks, though. Beauty pageant smiles are their own form of torture. But this is important.

It’s all for a good cause.

Tonight is important to Ice, so it’s important to you.

You’d do anything for your boys: ignore every sour expression at your last name, force a pleasant laugh along with each rear admiral’s wife, stifle a relieved sigh when everyone is invited to find their seats for dinner.

The flyboys have claimed three closely clustered tables during your absence, forcing others to walk around them as they spill into the spaces between each table, leaning close to make up for the distance forced by post-graduation reassignments. Viper is curiously absent, or perhaps Jester had pulled the short straw and been stuck with babysitting duties.

But there’s someone you don’t recognize at your table, sat between Merlin and Slider, a stranger in your midst. A smile splits Ice’s face when he spots him. “Cougar?” The man stands and pulls Ice into a quick embrace, Ice’s hand on the man’s—Cougar’s—shoulder. Ice makes quick work of introducing you to Bill Cortell and his wife, Maria. “Cougar and I were like brothers in flight school,” Ice beams. “We were supposed to meet up at TOPGUN, but–”

”It turned out for the best,” Cougar cuts Ice off goodnaturedly with a quick nod toward Pete. “Besides, desk life isn’t so bad.” Ice raises a brow at the assertion while Goose lets out a ‘bullshit!’ “Okay,” he cedes, “it’s pretty bad, but I wouldn’t give up being at home with Maria and the kids for the world.” Maria, who is heavily pregnant, rests her hand over her bundle of joy.

The lights choose that moment to dim, commanding stragglers to find their seats, but neither man moves. Slider stands up. “Here,” he offers Ice his seat on Cougar’s left because the two clearly have some catching up to do. Ice takes the seat while you slide over to stay seated next to him, and Slider takes your spot as the lights come up on the stage for the opening ceremony.

By the time everyone is seated and some speaker makes his way to center stage, Ice is only half paying attention to the night’s program. He and Cougar have a lot to catch up on in appropriately hushed whispers. You’re about to zone out when you’re yanked back to the present by a hand on your knee.

Above the table, for prying eyes, Slider doesn’t give anything away. Attention seemingly focused on the stage. Below the table’s skirt, however, you press your thighs together as Slider’s hand massages the skin exposed by the modified slit in your dress. Familiar callouses drawing senseless patterns above your knee. His hand stays there, occasionally giving you a comforting squeeze, like he knows you crave reassurance through gentle touches after being dragged so far out of your comfort zone. It’s nice. Before long, between the buzz of quiet conversation and each soothing caress, you relax back into your chair.

Polite applause fills the room as the admiral gives the podium to the next presenter. Pete and Carole chuckle at something Goose murmurs. Wolfman yawns. Someone coughs. A waiter comes around to top off champagne.

You wrap your fingers around the delicate stem of your flute, raising it to your lips in the same instant that Slider’s palm shifts so it’s wedged between your thighs. Your sharp breath is lost in the crowd as nimble fingers creep higher, never once pausing their massage.

The corner of Slider’s lip tugs the slightest bit up. Smug bastard. When you’re sure no one is paying attention, you give his wrist a tug, but instead of retreating, Slider brushes a finger against the flimsy fabric of your panties.

Your heart jumps into your throat as you become hyper-aware of how loud your breathing is, and your brain kicks into overdrive. Can anyone hear you over the clink of glasses? Your nails dig into the meat of Slider’s wrist in surprise, but you’re fairly confident that the rest of you looks normal—suddenly, you’re not sure what that means.

Is this the way a normal person’s mouth rests? The way a normal person sits in their chair? You need to leave, but you can’t. Being good for Ice, among other things, means not causing a scene. Not fleeing the room in the middle of a presentation. Not letting anyone know that while your boyfriend dutifully splits his time between the podium and his colleague, his RIO is pushing your underwear to the side for better access to your cunt. How you’re responding to his touch.

“Hey.” Pete’s giving you a strange look from across the table. “You okay?” From the way he’s pulled a face, you missed the bar for normal, and now Goose and Carole are also looking your way.

“I’m fine,” you hiss. “I-” need a distraction. You mentally stumble as Slider continues to stroke up and down your slit, his fingers spreading the wetness until they glide effortlessly through your lips.

The universe grants your wish when the crowd bursts into polite applause and the mic is turned over to the next speaker. “Isn’t that Admiral Benjamin?”

“As in Penny Benjamin?” Carole perks up, sitting tall in an attempt to get a better look at the stage while Pete bangs his head onto the table. Probably. You’re admittedly not paying attention.

Pleasure zings up your spine as thick fingers nudge your clit. A reward for redirecting the eyes on you. It’s everything you can do not to press your hips into the pressure or let your head loll back with a gasp. And with Penny’s father keeping attention off of you, Slider hooks an ankle around yours to encourage your legs further apart.

You shouldn’t, but Slider has always been convincing.

Ice won’t be particularly pleased with how promptly you gave into Slider’s suggestions, how readily your legs fall open, but that’s barely a blip on your radar as firm circles rub into your clit. The devil on your shoulder whispers that if Ice had really wanted to win, he shouldn’t have allowed himself to be so easily distracted.

None of that matters nearly as much as it should when your heart pulses between your legs.

A hand lands on your velvet-covered thigh. Ice. “Sweetheart.” You whip your head around too quickly for the move to be anything but suspicious. Like you’ve been caught with your hand—or someone else’s—in the cookie jar. You try to focus on the cool, grounding pressure of his touch. It’s working, you think, but your leg is still trembling from the effort it takes to keep still. Keen eyes move from your face to your leg, trembling under his touch, to your lap, and then to Slider, where they narrow almost imperceptibly. “You alright?”

With a nod, you reach past your champagne for water to wet your dry throat. “Just taking it all in.”

A poor choice of words. Ever the opportunist, Slider presses a finger into your hole, the stretch delicious and unexpected enough that you almost choke. If anyone catches the color on your cheeks, you hope they’ll blame your earlier drinks.

“I was just saying I didn’t know Maverick had a sister,” Cougar says, this time loud enough for the table to hear him.

“He doesn’t talk about me much.”

“Yeah,” Pete scoffs, “because when people find out about you, this–” he gestures between you and Ice “–happens.”

“You got any other sisters, Mav?” Chipper’s question from the next table over prompts Pete to load a pomegranate seed onto this salad fork. He’s ready to launch, but a disapproving look from Jester dissuades him. Goose flips Chipper the bird in a show of solidarity.

“So when did this happen?” Cougar asks, eyes flitting from you to the blonde on your right.

Slider chuckles and leans into the conversation at the same time as he crooks his fingers. You bite the inside of your cheek. The circles Ice is rubbing into your knee aren’t as distracting as either of you wants them to be. “He hasn’t been able to keep his hands off of her since we made it to Miramar.”

Hypocrite. You clear your throat. “About five months?”

“Aw,” Maria sighs in that way so many in long-term relationships do. You try and fail to focus on that as a second finger prods at your opening before pushing in slowly. “You’re still in the honeymoon phase.” Thankfully, Ice steps in with a reply because all you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears when Slider rubs his fingers against your sweet spot, thumb applying steady pressure to your clit. Your nails dig crescent moons into Ice’s wrist in a last-ditch attempt to ground yourself because if Slider keeps this up, it’s going to take a miracle to keep you from causing a scene.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Viper’s unapologetic quip appears from seemingly nowhere. Your own personal savior. “I need to borrow Iceman and Slider, Maverick and Merlin, Hollywood and Wolfman.”

You shiver at the abrupt emptiness. Slider wipes his fingers, dripping with arousal, off on the tablecloth, eyes locked on Ice.

Next Chapter

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