#Val Kilmer imagine

[doingthingsthewriteway]

Daisy

summary: doc and his the trials of his love with his daisy

Tombstone burnt under the fire of the afternoon sun. Sweat beaded out of every pore, clothes clung tightly to aching chests, and buzzards circled in anticipation. Death was inevitably close in this heat.

Y/N had experienced the wet heat of the south her whole life but this heat was new. It passed through her chest without so much as a cough, hardly any plant could survive for her to be allergic to. If she escape the allergies of home, then she reckoned the heat of Tombstone was worth it.

Town appeared to be busy despite the heat. No one paused here to sit on porches, fanning themselves and sipping sweet tea. People ran about, some literally in a scurry to get away from the echoing gunshots that caused her to jump.

Traveling by herself, Y/N felt relatively safe. Her benefactor sent her along in the nicest car on the most modern line. The train wasn’t robbed and all her things arrived safely. Bandits seemed to be nothing more than a myth to frighten little boys and girls into staying home back east. People simply weren’t like that, or at least they weren’t until Tombstone.

Dashing young men with matching red sashes lingered like the hyenas she read about in the library. Cackling smiles and shrill whistles greeted her was she stepped off the train. Some dirty, some disgusting, and some downright devilishly handsome all circled around her as she collected her luggage.

Keeping her eyes down, she pushed up the sleeves of her blouse and readied herself to carry the chest to the hotel.

“Need some help miss?” A gravely young voice called, boots crunching rocks to dust under each step.

“No thank you.” Quick, quiet responses. Only to the point.

“I insist.” A brown hat was tipped her way. She squinted through the blinding sun to meet brown eyes and tough skin. “Johnny Ringo.”

“Mr. Ringo, I sincerely appreciate your offer, but I can carry my belongings to the hotel.”

As Ringo opened his mouth, a second figured approached. Dressed all in black, cigar dangling from his lips, badge shining in the sun. “I think the lady declined your services, Johnny.”

“You can stay out of this, Earp.”

“Let’s not turn this into something.” Earp, who seemed decidedly safer, grabbed the luggage himself. “Wyatt Earp..”

“Y/N Y/L/N”.

“Well Miss Y/L/N, let’s get you checked in.”

The hotel was much more extravagant than she had imagined. A booming town did not mean all the glamour of home, but this hotel rivaled some that she used to pass by.

“Rare thing a woman traveling alone to Tombstone.” Wyatt said, settling the luggage inside the hotel door. “What brings you here?”

“Dry air is supposed to help you breathe better. I can’t hardly breathe back home.”

With an understanding nod, Wyatt tipped his hat and left. He had a faro table to run.

Unpacking was an easy affair. Hardly any of her belongings were packed with her. Her benefactor saw to it that only thing things she would need would make it with her. Anything else was simply sentimental junk of a decidedly unpleasant childhood that could be sold and split between the two.

Opening the window, she sat down on the chaise lounge next to it and took a deep inhale. Yes, this would do.

Yelling broke out in the streets below. Daring a peek outside, she saw Mr. Earp intervening with more of the red sashed men. Another figure strode across the street, black hat sat just askew. His southern drawl rattled in an echo across the street as he joined Mr. Earp.

A warning shot from the new gentleman broke up the ordeal. Earp and company glanced toward the hotel, finding a blushing Y/N staring out the balcony. “Busy town, Miss Y/L/N.” Mr. Earp called.

She nodded, blush still burning her cheeks. “Seems so.”

The other man tipped his hat with a wink and followed Mr. Earp into the saloon. Yes, Tombstone seemed quite busy.

Darkness fell before Y/N ventured out again. The heat of the day, the bittersweet realization that this was her life now all boiled over into an afternoon’s rest. She redressed, thankful that she didn’t have the finer silk dresses that would make the men notice her. Being noticed, especially by a red sash, was not something she was looking for.

Plain yet pretty, she left the security of the hotel and headed down the dusty streets of Tombstone. Dinner would be nice, though she supposed she could get it back in her room if all else failed.

The red embers of cigarettes glowed in the dusk, illuminating the men who leaned on porches waiting for something exciting to happen. As she passed a lively building, The Oriental according to the sign, one such figured called out for her.

“Pardon me, I believe I have not had the pleasure in making your acquaintance.” A deep southern drawl rolled.

Y/N paused briefly, determined to keep walking though manners made her at least stop for the man. “Oh?”

Slow footsteps creaked along the wooden porch and down onto the dirt. A dramatic wave of his hand, removed his hat. The stranger bowed, finger tips reaching out to brush against her hand. “I apologize for so rudely staring at your earlier, but I fear I was too distracted by both your beauty and the rapscallion nature of those cowboys to properly introduce myself.”

“You were with Mr. Earp?”

“Wyatt?” Oh how stretched the vowels were from his tongue. “Why yes, Wyatt Earp is my best friend. Though I would rather not spend my evening discussing him when I could be discussing you. John Henry Holliday, miss.”

She returned her name quietly, cheeks a flutter with pink as he took her hand and brought it to her lips. The hairs of his mustache tickling her skin just slightly. “Pleased to meet you Mr. Holliday.”

“Would you care to join me for a drink?” A devilishly glint flickered in his green eyes.

“You’ll have to forgive me, I’ve never drank.”

A boisterous laugh rattled into a cough. Mr. Holliday wiped at his lips with a handkerchief and quickly tucked it away. “Well darlin’, you’ll find Tombstone is a wonderful place to start.”

Dinner and a nightcap became common place between Y/N and Mr. Holliday. With some effort, she even got to the point of calling him Doc, a sound that when first said made Doc’s eyes roll back with lust. Yes, Doc was sure of it, he was smitten.

She would often talk around the concept of home while they ate and drank. Doc had not forgotten what life was like for a women in the south, though his dear cousin had some wealth to her name. Y/N appeared to have enough, but the scars and freckles that dotted her skin told him her life was far less leisurely than his youth.

Other times she would discuss literature and the little library she had worked at. These conversations especially aroused him. He’d bring novels and read to her as they strolled back to the hotel. Her eyes would shine at him as if he had written the prose himself.

Y/N reminded him of slow kisses under Spanish moss covered trees, of peach juice dribbling out of rosy lips, or warm milky skin he could sink his teeth into. She was a grand home with open windows and billowing curtains, piano music playing and a library of books to read. Yes, Doc was sure of it, he was falling in love. What a horrible thing.

Doc would walk her back to The Grand after a stiff drink (his darlin’ preferred bourbon) and then return to The Oriental to gamble and drink the night away. He never dared enter the hotel, always kissing her hand goodbye on the steps. For if the clerk saw, he knew he would be done for.

While hope and love lingered in his chest, squeezing him tightly, he never fully let himself indulge in that pleasure. After all, he was just a lunger waiting to die. He’d soil the the very name of any respecting woman with his desires and for once he didn’t have it in him.

Y/N finished up her bourbon, eyelashes fluttering up at him. “Will you let me pay tonight?”

“So stubborn for such an angelic face.” Doc grinned while paying her bill. “But no, darlin’. I am but a gentleman.”

The air was easier at night, cool and crisp against their skin. She was wrapped around his arm, head resting against his bicep. “Doc?” He let out a hum. “Do you…” she wasn’t sure what question longed to be asked. Do you like it here? Do you want to come up to my room? Do you like me?

“Nevermind. It’s silly.”

“Silly? From my little daisy? Nonsense.” Doc spun her around in his arms, holding her. The bustle teasing him through the fabric of her dress. Green eyes commanded attention. Calloused fingertips held her soft chin in his hands.

“Do you believe in love?”

Without missing a beat, he smiled his crooked smile. “Why yes, Y/N, yes I surely do.” Tenderly, his lips brushed her forehead. “Now, let’s get you to bed my dear.”

So it continued over several weeks. Touches becoming longer, necklines becoming lower. Guilt gnawed at his chest, thorny vines of shame bubbling out his throat. Pushing that away, Doc focused on hustling, gambling, drinking, and hating Johnny Ringo.

Wyatt puffed on a cigar, frowning as Doc engaged with Ringo. As Doc boasted that he was, “In his prime.” Wyatt reached for a gun under the table. Doc’s favored lover, Kate, stood at his side.

“Yes.” Johnny Ringo nodded, tipping his head toward Kate. “I’m sure your daylight darlin’ would love to know that.”

Doc lunged at Ringo causing a series of tumbling until Ringo was tossed out of the bar. “Fine you lunger, I’ll tell her!”

Fear set in. A cold fear chilled Doc’s bones like when he watched his mother die of the consumption. Death would be a relief in comparison to the heartache of losing his Y/N. Doc spent more of his evenings in her company and less in Kate’s. Once he was sure Ringo was nothing more than a belligerent drunk, (not wholly unlike himself) Doc resumed his usual activities.

Perhaps there was a thrill or he was a glutton for punishment. Doc was never sure. He would swear that he would spend the money he won on Y/N and when she asked what he did for a living hiding behind the badge of Wyatt Earp was a wonderful response.

Still, Y/N longed for more of her Doc. Thoughts and desires consumed her soul so much so the priest at confession was blushing. She wanted Doc in all the ways possible on this earth and beyond. She wanted to care for him, carry his name and his child, be his for whatever time he had left.

She dreamt of him, even on the day that a splitting headache and painful reminder she did not bare his fruit it. Y/N cancelled their usual dinner plans in exchange for a bath. Though the longer she soaked in the lavender (that he bought, the scent almost close to the lilac bushes from his youth), the pain rolled into longing. Deciding on the nicest dress he bought her, she dressed and pinned up her hair.

It was later than usual for their time together, but she couldn’t wait to see his eyes twinkle and his plump lips turn up into a smile. Rushing down the stairs, she made her way to The Oriental.

And, just like it had months ago, the darkness illuminated a man outside. Not her long and lean hero, but his devilish foil. The red sash around Ringo’s waist swayed in the breeze.

“Why Miss Y/L/N, The Oriental at night is no place for a woman of your nature. Perhaps it best I escort you home.”

“I’ll be quite alright, Mr. Ringo. Thank you.”

If Johnny wasn’t weathered by sun and by time, he would have felt remorse. Or perhaps loyalty to Doc. They were not that different and neither man deserved the sweet settling nature of Y/N. So yes, he decided, he was going to break Y/N’s heart.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you darlin’.”

The Oriental bounced with life. Music blared from the piano , whiskey sloshed on the floor, and cards fell on tables. It was very different from the space she was used to with Doc. But the thought of Doc and breathing in his scent was enough to draw her in.

Pausing at the bar for a drink, she surveyed the saloon. Wyatt sat proudly in the dealers spot, smoking. His eyes caught Y/N’s with a wince.

Y/N trailed her eyes in the direction of Wyatt’s. Her chest tightened like the attacks she used to get back home. Doc sparkled with sweat, beads of it drenching his shirt. An empty bottle sat on the table, the only buffer between him and the woman.

Y/N didn’t know the woman, hadn’t really seen her around. Still, not knowing who she was didn’t really lessen the pain of what she was. She was Doc’s. The woman patted the sweat off his forehead and stroked through his hair. And worst of all, only one of Doc’s hands was visible.

A burning rose through Y/N’s throat with the heartache. Her eyes blurred with tears. She desperately wanted to scream at him, to even whisper his name would do. But all she could do was let out a cough to mask the sob and leave.

“I’m walking you home, Miss Y/L/N.” Ringo held out his arm but Y/N pushed by it.

“Jesus woman, don’t you understand that lunger doesn’t care?!” Ringo shouted grabbing her elbow. “He sees her every night.”

He pulled her tight to his chest. Rough hands reached under her skirt grabbing the virgin flesh underneath. “He does?” It sounded pathetic falling from her lips.

“He beds her in that same boarding house you’re in.”

The wail that left het lips was enough for a crowd to rush out. Wyatt, heroic as ever ran out with Doc trailing behind. Johnny released Y/N from his hold but not before letting Doc see the tearful girl covered in Johnny’s hands.

“Nothing to see here,lunger.” Johnny cackled. “Just a broken heart.”

Johnny disappeared into the night as Doc approached. “Darlin’?”

She turned away from him marching back to the boarding house. “Y/N!”

Picking up her skirts she began to run. Tears stinging her skin, she flew up the stairs to her room. The wind blew in from her opened window; tombstone smelled of death.

Doc stood in the dusty streets. Wyatt offered an assuring squeeze to his shoulder. “I fear I may have defiled myself.”

“A young women scorned is not easily fixed.” Wyatt offered a tight smile.

Doc chased her into the hotel, just missing her slam the door. He knocked on her door, “Y/N? Darlin’ please let me in.”

He rattled the doorknob with urgency. “Please.”

The door swung open revealing a teared stained face. A book hit him, followed by another, and then a third and a dress. “Take your shit Mr. Holliday.” She seethed.

The sound of his name brought his first tear. “Now listen to me, you don’t call me that.” A scolding finger pointed in her face.

Smacking it away, she spat at him. “We have no acquaintance. I was a fool to think I could mean anything to you.”

“Stop that.” He begged fear spiraling through his veins. This was it. He had done it. Ruined something good with evil like his family told him he always would.

“I hate you.”

Doc grabbed her wrists and pulled her to his chest. His arms feeling just like the snare of Ringo. Perhaps all men where just as vile.

“Please, Y/N, say whatever you must just never that.” His lips forced their way onto her skin. Kissing her neck and her lips as she struggled again him. “Damn me, curse me, hell shoot me just never say that.”

Wriggling out of his grasp, chest heaving, Y/N broke down to the floor. “What else is there to say?”

Doc sat with her between his knees, clinging tightly. “I can only apologize for weakness.”

“Every night you bed her down the hall. You’re no gentleman. I am but an object to amuse you. You neither respect nor love me and it’s horrifying that I wanted to bare everything you could give me.”

Everything? Had she shared in his lustful fantasies? Did she fully return his affection? “I sincerely want everything with you, daisy.”

“No.”

Doc stayed until she fell asleep in a pitiful puddle in his arms. He carried her to bed, earning a wheeze from his lungs.

The cough was worse the next day. His handkerchief blood soaked by midday. It was no surprise to Wyatt when he rushed Doc back to his room, the doctor in tow.

As blood bubbles from his lips, he begged for Y/N. She did not come nor respond when Wyatt pounded on the door. The second day of Doc’s fever, Y/N quietly pleaded at Wyatt to go away.

It was on the third day that the door opened to Wyatt. Dressed plain, no longer donning the silky dresses Doc had bought her, Y/N emerged. Eyes sunken in and skin marked with tracks of tears, she headed to Doc.

“How is he?”

Wyatt offered a sad smile. “Sorry.”

“That’s not what I asked, Mr. Earp.”

A frown crossed his lips as his stomach lurched. “Please, Miss Y/N, don’t shut me out. You’re my friend.” Wyatt sighed. “He’s a dying man unless someone can settle him down. His fever comes and goes.”

There was a stillness in the room that made her stomach churn. Windows were open, letting in better air. The room was filled with the things she’d thrown at him. The dress crumbled up next to him in bed, the books scattered around with pages marked or weighted down.

Y/N watched the slow nature of his chest rise and fall with breathe. Ignoring the sudden numbness in her throat, crossed the room to his bedside. Removing the cloth from his forehead, she wrung it out and refilled in the water basin.

Tenderly, she washed his face, neck, and bare chest. She fluffed up the pillows and pulled the sweat stained sheets down. “Ask for more sheets when you leave. I’ll stay with him today.”

Wyatt merely nodded, waiting to smile until he was out of sight. Doc might just be a lucky bastard yet again.

She cleaned up the room and refilled water while Doc slept. Lunch was delivered just before A coughing fit roused him from a fitful sleep. “Drink.” She held a cool glass to his lips.

Doc merely nodded, revealing in the relief of water on this throat. He opened his mouth to speak but her finger tapped his lips. “No. Even if I wanted to hear what you had to say, you need to rest your throat.”

She sat the glass down. “I’m going to change the the top sheet if that’s alright.” Glazed eyes focused on her and he nodded.

As she peeled back the sheets she did her best not to stare at him. His lean body shimmering with sweat. Muscles rippled beneath curls of hair that trailed down his chest to something she had only dreamed about.

Tucking him into the new sheets, her chest hurt with the thought that someone else had seen him and touched him. Someone who wasn’t here while he lay dying. Pleasure would not be here to give.

A clammy hand grabbed her wrist and led her hand over his stomach. Whines left his throat.her cool hands were a relief and he needed that in more ways that just one.

“No.” Things were different. Just three days before she would have slipped into the delirium of his touch. But now, bile crawled up her throat.

She left his side momentarily to grab soup and a spoon. “It’s cooled enough so it shouldn’t hurt. You must eat and rest.”

Doc might have been delirious with fever, but he was hopeful. None of his escapades had ever valued his life the way she seemed too. His very soul lay between gentle hands that fed him. Flashbacks of himself at his mothers side broke through bought of fever and he was certain that this was love.

It was late that night when Doc awoke with a start. Pain no longer resonated with each breath. Sweat did not fall over him.

Pushing himself up against the headboard, he rolled his shoulders. Adjusting to the candle lit room, he knew he was not alone. Linen pants and a cotton tie front shirt were folded at the foot of the bed. He grabbed them, they didn’t smell of sweat or liquor, they were new. Water was running in his bathroom.

Leaning on his cane, thighs trembling with each step. Nudging the door open, he finds Y/N on her knees filling the claw foot tub. A minty smell tickles his nose and swirls into his chest. He breathes without much pain.

The cotton of her slip is all she wears under a corset. Lace flowers and ivory fabric that he had not yet gotten to see taunt him. “Why I do believe this is heaven.”

If Doc squinted, he was sure he saw a crinkle of a smile. “Let me help you in.”

“Why yes I’m sure of it now, this is heaven. I fear have been wrongly placed I am a sinner of the worst kind.” A hum of acknowledgment told him enough.

Gentle hands held his as she trembled into the bath. Easing himself in, his lungs cleared momentarily. “I can breathe.”

“Eucalyptus. Group of travelers were selling it when I went to buy your clothes. Said it helped.”

“My modern woman.” A blissful sigh let his lips at another deep inhale. “How long did the doctors give me?”

A sharp glare chilled the steaming bathroom. “You could live if you changed.” Y/N snapped. “But you choose to drink and smoke and bed whores every night. Perhaps I wasted my time on a dead man.”

He’s convinced his heart breaks again then. Watching green eyes trail with tears, his own reflecting the same. “Please do not think of me as time ill spent.”

“I will not think of you at all.”

“Daisy, that is even worse.” He reached for her hand once more, finding nothing. “Please?”

Fingers brushed his. “I’m leaving.”

For the first time since his raising from the dead, Doc coughed. Eyelashes fluttering rapidly. “I beg your pardon?” Doc imagined a lot of things with Y/N and none of those were leaving Tombstone (or at least not without their family and Wyatt).

“I have no prospects here. My benefactor provided plenty of funds. I’ve heard Denver has nice mountain air.”

“No prospects? What ever do you mean? My intentions were not clear to you?” Calloused fingers stroked her jaw.

“I’m as good as used.” She forced her bruised wrists to him. Pulling up her shift, he saw purple finger tips scattered on precious skin. “He touched me Doc, like you touched her. No one will marry me now.”

Like you touched her. Envy, rage, regret, and list churned in his stomach. A Pitiful series of “No’s” left his lips as he pulled her towards him by her skirt. He tried to stand but she eased him back in. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” It was small, barely a whisper. Water splashed over the tub and onto her giving peeks of sweet skin underneath.

“I do not deserve the luxury of you.” His finger trailed over her collar bone and up her neck. “I have not felt happiness like this since I was a foolish young man. Still foolish now.” Tracing the rose of her lips, he tapped her plump bottom lip forcing his finger just between. “I’m deviant Y/N, I’m a vile sinner who thinks unspeakable things about you daily and wanted to ruin it. Why live when you could not possibly want me to tarnish you?”

“What about your intentions you just spoke of?”

“Well my daisy I am selfish as well. I want To keep you as my wife. I just have these vices I wish to shield you from. I love you more than life. I would die to keep you happy.”

“Oh doc please don’t say such things!” She flung herself around his shoulders hugging him close.

Slowly, due to his healing and uncertainty of their relationship, he peeled her into the tub. Still clothed in now sheer cotton, Y/N dared a peek out from the crook of his neck. “Doc?” Breathy, she hardly recognized her own voice.

“May I have the pleasure of loving you?” He trailed finger along her clavicle. “Of keeping you as mine?”

“Yes.”

“Forever Mrs. Holliday?”

Daring a kiss to his lips, she hummed. “Forever.”

#Doc Holliday x reader #Doc Holliday imagines #Doc Holliday imagine #Val Kilmer imagine #Val Kilmer x reader #tombstone #tombstone imagines

[hotgirlmav]

Risky Business — Tom 'Iceman' Kazansky x Reader

Pairing: Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky x Female!Reader (18+)

Description: After being promoted to admiral, Tom 'Iceman' Kazansky has little to no time to do anything but work. Constantly stressed out and exhausted, you decide to give your husband something to cheer him up at work. Being afraid of being caught at any time but needing it more than ever, who is he to say no?

Warnings: Descriptive oral sex (m!receiving), explicit language, allusions to smut, slight exhibitionism, risk of getting caught, allusions to oral sex (f!receiving), MAVERICK CAMEO, reader trying Iceman, Iceman trying not to have a heart attack.

Word Count: 3,638.

A/N: Tom Cruise reference in the name because that man is attached to me by the HIP. ALSOOOO, this is my first time writing proper smut, so excuse anything that may seem shitty! Love youuuu!!! <3

Requests are temporarily closed!

Hearing the clearance to enter the office, you turned the doorknob with your free hand and slipped your way in, closing the door behind you with your foot.

“Is this part of your promotion? Forgetting your lunch almost everyday?” You teased your husband in a light tone, setting the articulately packaged containers on the corner of his desk.

Iceman, seconds away from drowning in the paperwork that cluttered his hardwood desk, forced a small grin on his face as a response to the remark that he was already forgetting. Though he was already two months into his promotion, each and every passing second carried a heavier workload than the last. He was always a man who was taken incredibly seriously, but at that moment in time, he was trying his damnedest to prove himself to be more.

After his promotion, Iceman felt as though the playful part of his youth no longer existed. Doing so much as referring to himself as his callsign made him feel as though he was disrespecting his new rank. From that moment on, he was Admiral Kazansky. He felt as though he desperately had to prove himself to both his inferiors and superiors, and in doing so, every second of his free time was lost.

Unfortunately, you were reaping the consequences of such a thing.

Each and every morning, he was gone before your eyes would even open. His vacant spot would no longer hold the inviting warmth that he had, thus proving just how long he had been gone. On a good night, he would come home around an hour later than he usually would. On his worst nights, he would come home while you were getting ready for bed. You initially wanted to be angry and berate him for such a thing, but something kept you from doing so. Your fury was defeated by the dark circles forming under his eyes, the exhaustion in his sultry, smooth voice, and the way his eyelids refused to stay up the second he sat down. Several nights in a row, you would find him fast asleep in his beloved chair in the living room with the television still on. The third time around, the laces on his boots were still tied as perfectly as they were when he left. The sight of it completely broke your heart.

Ever since then, you had been continuously begging the man to slow down. You begged him to breathe, to relax, to just— be. Of course, that was to absolutely no prevail. You knew your husband, and you knew he had to be the best at what he did. He would stop at nothing if it meant he was as respected as an admiral should be, but more importantly, he would make sure to deserve such respect.

Seeing the man you love adorned in stress was nothing short of horrible, yes, but fuck.

If that was not the sexiest thing you had ever seen in your entire life, you had no idea what was. Even at the current moment, you could not stop yourself from gawking. Scanning his face with your eyes for what must have been the millionth time, your heart began to race like it was the first.

The creases that formed as a result of his furrowed eyebrows caused you to tilt your head, completely disregarding the fact that you were outwardly admiring him. Your fingers longed to smooth them out for him, just as you always did. Such an action was typically followed by him letting his eyelids fall shut as the tension in his body smoothly dissolved. Ironically enough, Iceman would melt.

Your mouth watered in a way you could not even prevent if you tried; such an action completely went over his head. His look of concentration only intensified as he wrote. Your head was completely spinning in circles for the brief moment that your eyes were locked on your husband, but it was still long enough for you to figure out just what you wanted to do.

On nights when he would come home on time, you watched the man slowly rid himself of the uniform he wore to his demanding job, but he could never rid himself of the stress that came with it. His body was constantly adorned with it. He wore the agonizing repercussions of a man in his position like the most honorable badge, and quite frankly, you had enough of it.

Not for you, but for him.

Small, calculated steps were taken on your behalf; his concentrated stare was still fixated on the documents before him. You heard the soles of your shoes hit the ground beneath you in a way that felt crushing, but to him, it was just white noise.

Finally, standing behind him, your hands found their way to his shoulders. Even from the slightest touch, Iceman was already letting out a low, quiet exhale of relief. You could feel the tension in his muscles slowly decreasing as you pushed the tips of your fingers further into them, beginning to move them in a circular motion.

It took everything in the man not to completely drop his pen. Iceman’s eyelids dropped the exact way you knew they would, his head falling forward for a moment. One of your hands continued to work as the other stopped for a moment, his hand finding it the second it did. He held your hand in his right one on one of his shoulders and turned his head to face it, his excruciatingly soft lips pressing a kiss to your knuckle.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” The words fell from his lips in a raspy way, his voice cutting through the slightly chilly air like a hot knife through butter. You hoped that you could suppress the need to alleviate his stress, but after hearing the way you soothed him by just rubbing his shoulders, you couldn’t help but wonder what just a little more would do.

You rubbed circles into his shoulders in a way that you hoped would satisfy him. Each and every long, deep exhale that left his nostrils filled your pride in a way that even the most intricate compliment could not. Your heart began to both crack and melt as your mind shifted, causing you to begin to think about just how much the man deserved it. He had been physically and mentally torturing himself ever since he got promoted. The one minute you had been rubbing his back was probably the only moment of pure solitude that he had been granted in the past month.

That was all the motivation you needed to both reward the man for his incredibly hard work and remind him that he did not need to take everything so seriously. There was much more to life than professional success, both good and bad. You wanted to take a moment to remind him of the good.

Your fingers halted after the thought finalized in your mind, but Iceman thought nothing of it. He just figured you were going to be right on your merry way, and he had to get back to work. He picked up his pen once more as your eyes scanned around the beautiful office, your eyes landing on a picture of the pair of you resting on his desk just a moment later.

The blinds on all of the windows looking into his office were shut. The front of his desk made it impossible for anyone to see what was underneath. The fact that he had quite a bit of legroom underneath the desk was enough of a push.

Without even thinking, you slightly pulled his chair back, such an action being made easy by the wheels at the bottom. His face twisted in confusion as he looked over to you, the pen still in his hand. Neither of you had time to think before you were dropping to your knees right in front of him, your hands immediately beginning to fumble with the belt on his uniform.

“Are you insane?” He whispered to you in a hushed tone, his face mirroring that of a deer in headlights. Despite his evident shock, his eyes only followed you as you continued to very slightly rid him of his pants. He made no attempt to stop you.

Noticing that fact, you met his eyes with your own, your eyebrows slightly raising. “Do you want me to stop?”

You knew he didn’t. He knew he didn’t. By asking that very simple, yet very significant question, though, the ball rolled right into your court. You obtained the power in that situation, as opposed to how roles were typically assigned in that manner. He was yours for the taking, and both of you were just fine with that.

Within seconds, he was exposed to you. If anyone were to stand in the doorway, all they would see is the upper half of one Admiral Kazansky, probably as cool and collected as ever. The expression on his face, however, showed something different.

His green eyes were full of bewilderment as your eyes landed on his already semi-hard length, your heart racing as if this wasn’t just the millionth time you were going to blow your husband. Regardless of such, this time was supposed to be special. You had a goal in mind, and you would stop at absolutely nothing to achieve it. Perhaps that was one of the many things you and Tom had in common.

Your eyes flickered upward to gaze at him, the certainty and sheer lust in your eyes perfectly contrasting with the shock in his. The second you wrapped your fingers around his length by the base of it and moved your hand upward just once, the pen fell from his grip. You wasted no time in adjusting your head slightly and wrapping your lips around the tip, your eyes searching for his as you did so.

Iceman furrowed his eyebrows just as he usually did, but it was very evidently not out of frustration. His plump lips parted slightly as he felt your tongue lick a stripe along the tip of his cock, and his larger hand found solace on the top of your head, resisting the urge to just fuck your throat then and there.

The fear of being caught infiltrated his blood like a virus, but absolutely nothing was going to make him pull away from you. Especially with the way the very tip of your tongue flicked over the slit of his cock so briefly, causing him to suppress the most obscene groan.

At that point, all bets were off. He knew what you were doing, and he knew it very well. If you wanted to relieve him of the stress he carried, he was going to allow you to do just that. As a matter of fact, he was going to help you.

Your lips were fully wrapped around his tip as both of his hands moved to push a bit of your hair out of your face, being sure to hold it all behind your head with just one of them. The second he did so, you knew to remove your hand from his base. You knew exactly what he wanted to do, and you were going to let him.

Once your hand moved, Iceman wasted no time in bucking his hips upward, only part of his length fully filling your mouth and threatening to go down your throat. Due to being slightly caught by surprise, you let out the sound of a small gag against it, but still got ahold of yourself quite quickly. The sound only fueled the man much more.

“Try to be quiet, sweetheart.” His low voice filled your ears in a way that caused a small fire to burn in the pit of your stomach, his eyes essentially blazing into yours. “You wouldn’t want us to get caught, would you?”

You knew exactly what to do. Normally, you would respond with noises, but you wanted to toy with him just as much as he was toying with you.

Your hand found its way back to the base of his length as you slowly lifted your mouth off of it, using your hand to lightly and teasingly stroke it as you maintained a calm expression.

“No, Admiral.” You spoke just above a whisper, your lips curling into a shit-eating grin as you watched the darkest lust flash through his eyes. You took the tip in your mouth once more, and instead of beginning to bob your head, you let him do what you knew he wanted.

Your hands gripped the back of his calves as he held your hair in one hand, the other now resting below your jaw. In a way, it was helping you. He held your head in place as he clenched his jaw as tightly as he could, showing no mercy once he thrusted up into your mouth.

Even after years of experience, it still took you a minute to adjust to taking his length. To say that he was big was an understatement. It was more than understandable to know why his ego was the way it was.

You felt inches of him threaten to go deeper and deeper down your throat with each and every thrust, causing muffled gags to be released against his cock each and every time. The vibration he felt from the sound caused him to clear his throat, a vein now making an appearance on his neck.

Just when almost all of him was in your mouth and down your throat, you both heard a slight knock at the door. Immediately, you both froze.

Iceman’s eyes widened as he completely let go of you, but you were too afraid to move.

“Just a minute!” He wasted no time in calling out, frantically looking around his office. He suddenly motioned for you to scoot back underneath his desk, which you wasted no time in pulling back from his erection and doing so.

“Ice, it’s me.” You could hear the voice of Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell say through the door. From your position, you could practically hear your husband rolling his eyes. He pushed his chair inward slightly so as to make it seem he was sitting normally, but still in a way that wouldn’t hit you under the desk.

Getting caught was one thing, but by Maverick? Absolutely not. No fucking way, absolutely not.

After the both of you got settled, Iceman cleared his throat. “Come in.”

The second Maverick came in, your heart stopped. You knew their usual way of greeting one another was by embracing each other in a warm, yet brief hug. Seeing as Iceman’s pants were pulled down to the middle of his thighs, that would not be the best thing.

Luckily, Maverick only sighed and closed the door when he came in, taking a seat in one of the chairs right in front of the desk.

“What do you need, Mav?” Iceman tried to ask as normally as he could. His poker face was absolutely perfect, but he felt like the man in front of him could see right through him.

As Maverick began to inform your husband of the fact that he pissed off another superior, you could feel the tension in his body rising.

“This is the second time this month, Pete. I just got this damn position, and the most progress I’ve made is making sure you don’t get grounded.” Iceman stated in obvious annoyance as his eyebrows furrowed, sitting back in his seat. It was almost as if he forgot you were there.

“I know, I know.” Maverick sighed out in response, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I can’t thank you enough.”

As Maverick continued giving his explanation, a lightbulb went off over your pretty little head. With a small smirk on your face, your hand slowly found its way back to his length. He was still just as hard. If anything, the lack of attention given to his cock was almost making it throb. Immediately, you took the tip back into your mouth.

The very second he felt the contact, Iceman cleared his throat and sat right back up, clenching his jaw.

“You okay, Ice?” Maverick asked in pure confusion as his eyebrows furrowed, staring at the man in front of him, who seemed to be in some sort of pain.

Iceman cleared his throat once more and nodded his head once, trying his best to maintain eye contact as he blinked twice. “Muscle cramp. Please continue.”

Hearing the quick and polite save almost made you giggle, but you still wanted to toy with him. You wasted no time in slightly stroking the bottom half as you began to teasingly bob your head up and down, doing so as silently as you possibly could.

The way his boot would shift every few seconds as a way for him to release some form of reaction kept you going. Once you went down a bit further as a way of testing your own limits, you couldn’t help the small gag that came along with it. Your blood ran cold once you did it, but not even a full second after you did, Iceman let out quite a loud cough.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Pete asked in the middle of his own explanation, confusion more evident on his face than before.

Iceman nodded in response as he gripped your hair underneath the desk, causing you to widen your eyes slightly. The way it caught you off guard piqued your interest.

“Lot of dust in here.” He instantly excused himself.

After a few moments, Maverick was being lectured by the man in front of you, but both you and Maverick knew he would just end it by saying he would help him out. Low and behold, he did.

The second Maverick left his office and closed the door behind him, Iceman pushed his chair back from his desk and glared down at you. All of the rage in his eyes was completely lustful, and his remaining grip on your hair was still thrilling you to no end.

“You’re fucking insane.” He lowly spat under his breath, causing you to fight the urge to just smile at him. “What would have happened if he figured that out? Do you know how fucking bad that would have been?”

His tone was serious, but the look in his eyes said so much more. He parted your lips with his thumb and wasted no time in pushing it into your mouth, completely taking you by surprise. Within a matter of a second, though, you began to slightly run your tongue along his skin. You bobbed your head back and forth in a way that made him feel like you were just sticking your middle finger up at him.

“Fine.” He sharply stated below his own breath, retracting his finger from your mouth and using that hand to grip your jaw. Your mouth was still wide open and your eyes slightly widened in surprise.

“If you want to act like such a dirty little slut, show me what a dirty little slut you are.” He spat his beautifully venomous words at you, just before he aligned the tip of his length with your lips. Without a bit of a warning, he pushed it into your mouth.

You found your position as if it were as easy and natural as riding a bike. He sat back in his chair as he began to bob your head up and down by your jaw and your hair, causing you to quietly gag almost each and every time. For him, you didn’t care. You would have sawed your jaw clean off if he told you to.

His breathing became lighter the faster he did so. After a moment, he stopped so as not to cause any sort of serious strain to your neck, deciding that thrusting upward would be easier for the both of you.

Once he did so, the tip of his cock was hitting the back of your throat almost every second. You only held your mouth open as widely as you could, taking the shortness in his breathing as a sign that he was close.

“Fuck—” You heard the beautiful word carefully slip under his breath, causing you to brace yourself. You squeezed your eyes shut as you felt his load begin to fill your mouth, just knowing the way you were sending him over the edge as you began to swallow.

After a moment of the man trying his best to suppress the groans he wanted to let out as a result of him finishing, he lowly panted under his breath. You lifted your head and shamelessly wiped the side of your mouth, happily standing to your feet once he began to fix his uniform.

“You’re welcome.” You hummed to your husband in such a casual manner, pressing the softest peck to his lips before you turned to your things.

As you gathered your belongings and hooked your purse over your shoulder, you felt a cold hand slightly grip your wrist, causing you to turn back to him.

“Where are you going?” He asked in what seemed to be complete confusion, causing you to furrow your eyebrows and let out a small giggle.

“Home…?” You spoke in a way that came off as more of a question than a statement. The words that he spoke next made you both almost completely implode, and mentally pat yourself on the back for deciding to do what you did.

“No, no way.” He laughed out, shaking his head in disapproval before he stood from his seat, his eyes locking with yours as he did so.

“It’s your turn.”

#tom kazansky #tom kazansky x reader #tom iceman kazansky #tom kazansky imagine #top gun fanfics #top gun fanfiction #top gun #iceman x reader #iceman #tom iceman kazansky x reader #iceman top gun #iceman x you #iceman x female reader #val kilmer #val kilmer x reader #top gun maverick #top gun x reader #top gun imagine #top gun fanfic #top gun 1986 #tgm #maverick #top gun headcanons #top gun smut #iceman imagine #iceman x y/n #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin #pete maverick mitchell #iceman smut

[topgun-imagines]

You’re Not Alone

Requested: yes

Summary: After Ice makes a comment that, unbeknownst to him, hurts you, he needs to make sure that you know just how sorry he is. 

Word count: 1.3k 

Warnings: Sexism. Crying. Arguing. Mentions of drinking. 

Pairings: Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky x fem!reader

“The plaque for the alternates is down in the lady's room.” It was Ice’s quip that made you stop. You knew that it was addressed at Maverick but it still hurt all the same. Goose laughed loudly. You could feel the eyes on you as you sucked in a sharp breath and headed out of the classroom.

You had known Ice for years. The two of you first met at the academy, becoming instant friends with both him and Slider. He had even been the one to give you your call sign; Snow White because of your jet-black hair. It was also fitting for the way you were similar to Ice in your frostiness. Eventually, the pair of you got together. In a few weeks, it would be your fifth anniversary.

His comment shouldn't have affected you like it did. You knew that it was aimed at Maverick but that didn’t make it hurt any less. Iceman was the person that knew more than anyone how hard you had to work to get where you were. It was safe to say that female pilots were a rarity in the Navy. The men around you were constantly looking down on you, belittling you just because you were a woman. You knew that Ice wasn’t one of those people. Both him and Slider were constantly telling you how much you deserved to be where you were today, no matter how often you told them they didn’t need to. To hear Ice say that made you rethink the things that he had told you over the past six years. Maybe that’s what he actually thought. That you were below him and the other pilots, just because you were a woman.

You headed into the changing rooms before anyone else got there. Grabbing your civilian clothes, you headed into one of the bathroom stalls and began changing out of your uniform. You could hear some of the others make their way into the room, laughing loudly. The second you were finished you folded your uniform carefully and unlocked the stall.

Ice, Slider, Hollywood, Wolfman, Maverick, and Goose were all standing in front of their lockers. They were all discussing plans to go to the bar tonight. Your locker was next to Ice’s. Silently, you placed your uniform in the small locker. Popping a piece of gum in your mouth, you ignored Ice when he tried to talk to you. Honestly, you weren’t in the mood to deal with him right now. Slamming your locker, you left the room, leaving everyone staring after you confused.

The bar was packed. People were mingling loudly, chatting and laughing as they sipped on their drinks. You leaned against the bar, waiting for your drink to come. Many of your classmates surrounded you. Hollywood and Wolfman were sitting beside you, lost in their own little world. A soft hand landed on your shoulder. After six years you didn’t need to think too hard about who it was.

Ice wound his arm around your waist. You turned away slightly when he pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek. His eyebrows furrowed. What was with you today? “You okay?” He questioned, downing the shot that was placed in front of him. You rolled your eyes. God, this man could be oblivious sometimes. When you didn’t respond Ice craned his neck to meet your eyes. “Snow? What’s wrong?” Regardless of the concern dripping from his words, you didn’t want anything to do with him right now.

“I can’t do this right now, Ice,” Sighing, you set your now empty glass on the bar top and moved toward the exit. You could hear Ice groan behind you. Not caring, you continued towards the exit and stepped out of the bar. The fresh air was glorious. You sucked in a deep breath, shutting your eyes for a minute. The door shut behind you. “Please, Tom.” With a sigh, you turned to face him.

His eyes were on you, watching with concern as he moved toward you. “What’s going on?” When all you offered in response was a mumbled ‘nothing’ Ice scoffed. “Bullshit. You’re barely even looking at me.” Your eyes were focused on the gravel in front of his shoes. He watched you carefully as you chose your words.

You sighed and brought your eyes up to meet his. “Why would you say that?” Ice’s brow furrowed in confusion. What the hell were you talking about?  “Why would you joke about being a woman pilot?” His mind instantly flashed to the comment he had made earlier that day. Of course. How could he have been so stupid? The pilot's heart dropped when he saw the way you tried to blink away the tears that gathered on your lashes.

He wished that he could run to you and wipe your tears away; hold you until he knew you were okay. But, he knew that that was probably the last thing you wanted right now. He had to choose his words very carefully. “I wasn’t thinking,” You scoffed. “And I know that that is no excuse for what I said but I promise you, I would never make fun of you, or mock you. Ever,” Ice took a cautious step towards you. “I know how hard you had to work to get where you are and that is nothing to joke about,” He was now standing only a foot away from you. “I am so, so sorry, baby.” When you sniffled quietly Ice thought the worst: he was about to lose you after nearly five years.

Before he could even comprehend what was happening, your arms had wound their way around his waist with your face buried in his chest. He stumbled back slightly from the force of your hug. You were crying softly into his chest. His lips settled on the crown of your head. “I’m so sorry,” The words were mumbled into your hair but you could hear them nonetheless. You shook your head, face still nuzzled in Ice’s chest.

“Thank you,” You whispered, pulling your head back to look at him. Tom had tears of his own gathering on his bottom lash. Biting his lip, he tried to blink them away. He didn’t think you should be thanking him for anything.  “Thank you for believing in me,” There was a small smile resting on your lips, Tom’s eventually mimicking your own. “I love you, Tom.” You rested your head against his shoulder, arms still wrapped tightly around his waist.

His hand began rubbing soothing circles on your back. “I love you too, baby. You’re never gonna be alone as long as I'm here,” He had no idea how much it meant to hear him say that. The pair of you stood in silence, simply enjoying each other presence. Tom had made it clear that he understood his mistake, and he would be damned if he ever made it again. You knew how much he regretted what he said. You were glad to know that no matter what happened, you would always have Ice in your corner. As if he could hear your thoughts, Ice leaned down slightly and pressed a chaste kiss to your temple. “You deserve so much baby. I hope one day I can give that to you.” Your heart melted at his words.

With a giddy smile, you moved to hide your face in Ice’s neck, eyes catching on the wet tear stain you left on his sunny whites. “Oops.” You giggled quietly. Tom’s found where you were looking, causing him to let out a soft chuckle as well. When you moved to apologize Ice cut you off with a soft shake of his head. The shirt could be washed. What Ice really cared about was the fact that you were okay and that you knew just how much he loved you. And he didn’t intend to stop telling you for a very long time.

a/n: Thank you for reading! requests are open.

#tom kazansky #tom iceman kazansky #tom kazansky imagine #tom kazansky x reader #tom kazansky fic #ice #iceman #iceman top gun #iceman fanfic #iceman fic #iceman x reader #iceman x female reader #val kilmer #val #top gun #top gun 1986 #top gun 86 #TGOG #Tom kazansky x female reader #tom iceman kazansky fanfic #top gun x female reader #top gun fanfiction #ice x reader #top gun x reader #top gun fluff

[coffeecollective]

Dude if you guys like these I have so many it’s insane, this one’s a lot more low effort though, sorry about that

Slider used to be PAINFULLY homophobic

Despite that, He actually wasn't open about it.

Especially after he found out ice and a few of his other friends were queer as well.

It was only after he found out ice was gay when he started to have second thoughts on his opinions towards the LGBTQ+ Community.

He never once suspected he was gay as well, Even after coming to accept the gay community and after realizing he never really felt attraction towards many (if any) women.

But then he started to notice more and more about both Iceman and Maverick.

Next thing he knew he was suddenly cuddled up in bed with the two, Ice in the middle and maverick on his friends left, both fast asleep.

#icemav #goosemav #slider #ron slider kerner #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #top gun fandom #top gun imagine #top gun 86 #top gun movie #topgun #top gun 1986 #top gun maverick #slicemav #slimav #iceman x maverick #iceman val kilmer #slider x iceman #osdd 1b #osdd system #osdd #osdd fictive #osdd alter #floydsin #floydsinshaw #hangster #top gun fanfiction #jake hangman seresin #bradley rooster bradshaw #robert bob floyd

[thewulf]

My Girl || Tom "Iceman" Kazansky

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

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

Pairing: Tom "Iceman" Kazansky x Y/N

Word Count: 3,200+

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He frowned almost instantly, “Really?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hardly. You’re so beautiful.”

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

“Only for you.” He bopped your nose.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A bit of an asshole.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Easily.” You continued after Tom interjected.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like I said. No fucking way.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shrugged grabbing your refreshed cocktail instead of answering.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s my girl.”

@wildellaa I hope you enjoy!

#tom iceman kazansky #tom kazansky #iceman x reader #iceman fic #iceman x y/n #iceman val kilmer #iceman x you #tom kazansky x reader #tom kazansky x y/n #tom kazansky x you #pete mitchell #pete maverick mitchell #goose bradshaw #nick bradshaw #hollywood #wolfman #top gun maverick #top gun movie #top gun imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun 1986 #top gun #top gun masterlist

[shit-sorry-fuck-mybad]

I feel like Val Kilmer is the kind of person who would get bored one day and suddenly go “fuck it” open Twitter and tweet “Icemav is canon”

#icemav #I feel like he is an agent of chaos #I can feel it guys #in my bones #Tom iceman kazansky #Tom kazansky #iceman #Val Kilmer #my beloved #Val Kilmer is the best dude I’m this movie I love him so much #Tom is disqualified due to me not liking him #guys I know Val had done similar things but imagine him just straight up confirming it

[multifandomworldsposts]

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.

#fanfic #fanfiction #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #tom iceman kazansky #tom kazansky #top gun #top gun imagine #top gun 1986 #iceman val kilmer #top gun fic #top gun x y/n #top gun iceman #top gun movie #top gun 86 #top gun fanfiction #val kilmer #top gun x reader #tom kazansky imagine #tom kazansky smut

[call-sign-shark]

Or 3 and 7 with our perfect Cold Iceman… can’t choose Shark 🥹

Why choose when I could add both? Sorry for the long wait, I hope you'll like it my sweet little Fox. 💚

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✨Take My Breath Away✨

Summary: Valentine's prompt Flowers (3) and Dancing (7) -- Iceman x Reader

Words: 1.7k

Tags: pure fluff !! Ice being super awkward with feelings. No proof reading.

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From the beginning of your training as the first female pilot to today, hiding your weakness had become a habit. Feeling sick or tired? You would double your efforts and work even more than on a normal day. Feeling depressed? You would reply to the constant teasing with a sharp and confident smile as if you were ready to eat them alive. Especially Hollywood, who you could not put up with. Even when your period cramps were tearing your uterus and the hormones would rattle your nerves, you kept working hard, your face was always hidden behind a mask of total indifference. Maverick and Goose often joked about your frozen demeanor, comparing you to Iceman when it came to expressing emotions. But contrary to Kazansky, no one had given you the choice. The slightest weakness shown could be used against you by the pack of ferocious and macho pilots, whose only wish was to see you fall.

The black tea you had let cool down on the coffee table had stopped smoking. An unpleasant chill ran down your spine, which made you snuggle a bit more in the heavy and warm blanket you wrapped yourself with when you came back to your bedroom. Your fingers reached for the cup’s handle and brought the tea to your lips. The first sip warmed your whole soul. You felt like you had just swallowed a little fragment of sun, which lit up you from the inside. A sigh of relief escaped from your mouth, soon followed by your eyelids slowly closing. Finally, you thought, you could finally rest and forget about Valentine’s. A hot tea, a blanket, and music coming from your radio were all you needed. The sights of pilots gifting flowers and chocolate to girlfriends almost made you sick. Men… They were all the same. You did not always hate Valentine’s Day though. There was a time you could not wait for your boyfriend to come home with the cliché but oh-so-romantic box of chocolates et flowers. Cheesy, but absolutely heartening. You remembered how your expression would suddenly become cheerful at the sight of the handsome soldier with gifts in his hands, waiting for you in the middle of the door’s frame. There were Valentine’s Days with John and now, those without him. You clenched your jaw at such bittersweet memories: you had loved him so much… Until you found him in bed with another woman.

Another sip of tea, another wave of warmth coating your frozen heart with its delicious aroma. It was not particularly late but you decided to go to sleep, after all, it was not like you had a date or something. You had barely got up from the couch when you heard someone knocking at your door. Your brows furrowed for you were not expecting visits. At first, you hesitated: what If you just didn’t answer? Your social battery was so empty that the last thing you wished for was to hold a conversation. Nevertheless, you still dragged your exhausted body to the door and opened it.

“Listen, I’m fucking tired and—“ You cut mid-sentence.

“And?” A calm and cold voice retorted.

You looked up and your eyes were met with freezing blue irises. Tom “Iceman” Kazansky was standing fiercely at your door, hands crossed behind his back and his whole posture screaming military discipline. You had expected anyone knocking at your door, anyone except Iceman. The corner of his mouth moved in a quick and faint smirk, betraying his emotions: he was amused by how you reacted to his presence. While you could easily make men shit themselves, Kazansky was the only one who would face you at the slightest inconvenience. He was harsh, he was scary, but he also was the only one who never made inappropriate comments about you. He was difficult to prove, consequently you never knew if he liked you or hated you — or if your presence was just insignificant to him. Coming back to your senses, you took a step back and crossed your arms on your chest.

“What do you want, Kazansky” Your tone was suddenly less impetuous now that Ice was towering over you. He remained silent for a little while, his cerulean eyes observing each trait of your face as if the answer to all his worries was hidden somewhere on your skin. He finally blinked, realizing that he was probably staring at you for too long and that it was awkward.

“Take.” Stern tone. No extra words. Ice was the kind of man who liked going straight to the point. Maybe that was why he handed you the charming bouquet of red roses he had hidden behind his back without utterly the slightest explanation. You opened your eyes wide:  he took your breath away as if he had just thrown you a punch right in the guts. Tom “Iceman” Kazansky was standing at your door, roses in his hand and they were for you. Blood rushed to your face.

“Are you gonna take them or not?” The tall blonde pilot said, raising an eyebrow. His jaws were moving for he was chewing gum — he always did since he quit smoking.

“Oh, yes!” You shook your head, his attractive voice snatching you from your thoughts, “Yes!” You repeated before taking the flowers from his hands and burying your nose in their delicate petals to sniff at their pleasant scent. It was the first time Ice saw a genuine smile flattering your juicy lips and, to be true, it made him melt. Even though he did not let it show.

“Thank you Ice, this is very nice.” You said, nose still hidden among the red roses.

“Well,” He cleared his throat, not really sure what to do now. Slider told him to take off his shirt and show his abs, but he was not sure about it. Bradshaw and Mitchell would have sung you a ridiculous love song, but doing so was absolutely out of question. And concerning the florist, she only told him to offer the bouquet and wait for his lover to make the first step — but you were not having any peculiar reaction. What did he do wrong?

“See you tomorrow, I guess.”

“Ice?” Raising your face from the bouquet, you offer him a shy smile with glimmering eyes. Your face was dressed in a look you had never given to a pilot since you broke up with John.

“Yes?”

“Come in.” You winked and let him come into your bedroom. Then, you put the red roses in a little flower pot you had brought from your mom’s house. As you took care of the bouquet, the blonde pilot stopped in the middle of the room and looked all around him. To be honest, He believed that a bedroom could tell a lot about someone. For example, his was neat, clean, and completely impersonal. No family pictures, no letters, no plushies, nothing. Sometimes you wondered if Tom Kazansky could be anything else than Iceman. You could not picture him being a father, nor a son, nor a casual man. He was just… Ice.

Yet, a small grin stretched the corner of his lips. He had just spotted the adorable family picture you had on your nightstand, displaying a little Y/N piggybacked by your father. Behind you was standing an impressive Biplane straight from World War I. He knew you came from a family of pilots, but he did not expect your father to own such an incredible machine.

"You look so happy." Ice stated, his voice softer than usual.

"I was. My dad would often take me with him when he flew the Fokker. I think there are my favorite memories of him. He would tell me that, one day, I'll be ready to fly it by myself." 

When Iceman noticed the tint of melancholy in your voice, he could not help but gently bring his hesitant fingers to one of your shoulders. He, who was always confident, felt like a shy kid. Even though he already had relationships, they were all one night stands. Which did not help him to understand the mysteries behind social interactions.  The unexpected physical contact sent a shiver down your spine -- You never realized how eager you were for him to touch you until today. You both remained silent for a while, Ice gently caressing your shoulder with his thumb as the first notes of Take My Breath Away by Berlin echoed in the room.  The blonde pilot took a deep breath and glanced at you, his frost eyes enjoying the sight of your delightful silhouette. 

"Hey." 

Surprised when he broke the silence, you turned to him with a questioning look on your adorable face. Ice's smile grew bigger, showcasing his perfect white teeth in a surprisingly tender grin.  His blue eyes left yours only to fall on your lips, which immediately made your whole body heat up. Why the hell were you reacting like that? Of course, you had always thought Kazansky was a handsome man but not a handsome potential boyfriend. At least, that was the case until he smiled.

"I really love this song."  He said, always uttering a sufficient amount of words.  Gathering his courage, he wrapped your waist with his strong arms with an indescribable softness. Then, he brought you closer.

"Ice--" You locked yours around his neck, not really knowing what you were doing.

"Shhhh."  The way your expression shift when you were surprised sent a jolt of arousal through his body. He let out a long exhale through his nostrils and, with small and slow steps, he pulled you in a slow dance. Your whole being faltered at his touch as well as at his freezing eyes diving into yours. The first hesitant movements were soon swept away by more confidence.

Watching, I keep waiting, still anticipating love Never hesitating to become the fated ones Turning and returning to some secret place to hide Watching in slow motion as you turn to me and sayMy love, take my breath away

You closed your eyes, your head now gently resting on his chest while you were still slowly swirling on the song's rhythm. As the soft melody of his beating heart lulled your broken soul, you finally found peace.

There had been Valentine's days with John and those without.  But the more important ones were those you spent with Iceman. Because since winter 86', he would keep bringing you red roses and still make you slow dance with him in the living room each Valentine's Day.

Even after you became Mrs. Y/N Kazansky. 

#tom kazansky x reader #tom iceman kazansky #iceman x reader #ice x reader #Top gun fanfic #top gun fic #top gun x reader #iceman x female reader #tom kazansky x female reader #iceman top gun #tom kazansky imagine #iceman kazansky #top gun 86 #val kilmer

[auroracalisto]

imagine: sharing a bed with your husband.

tw: sleeping?? a/n: hi. here's some short iceman fluff. also, happy new year! i hope this year treats you well <3

Well into the night, you found yourself sneaking into your shared bed. The blue comforter had bunched around your husband, pillows resting just beneath his head.

Ice had been lying there for hours at this point, and although he was asleep now, he hadn't been asleep for very long.

As you lay down beside him, stretching out your legs, your feet brushed against his thigh. You stole some of the covers in the process, absentmindedly shifting closer to him.

His eyes shot open, heart hammering in his chest as he felt you.

"You are freezing," he immediately said.

Your eyes widened. Had you woken him?

"Tom? I thought you were asleep. I'm so sorry."

He turned around to face you, sleep evident in his eyes. Exhaustion riddled his bones, and after a long day, he wanted nothing more than to sleep. Sighing through his nose, he said nothing more and wrapped his arms around you. He pulled you into his chest. You cuddled into him, resting your head on his chest.

"I didn't mean to wake you," you said.

He just hummed, resting his chin on the top of your head. Sleep quickly overtook him, and you were soon to follow, comforted by the warmth of your husband.

#iceman #iceman x reader #iceman imagine #top gun #top gun imagine #fanfiction #top gun fanfiction #iceman fanfiction #val kilmer #val kilmer fanfic #imagine #reader insert #x reader #gn!reader #x gn!reader #tom kazansky #tom kazansky x reader #tom iceman kazansky #tom iceman kazansky x reader #tg #tg x reader #short #fluff

[itsgoghtime]

This is What I Wished For

the biggest of thank you’s to @sarahsmi13s for this wonderful mood board 🫶

Words : 2233

CW : implied relationship age gap (wifey is in her 30’s), mentions of throat cancer and emotions around it, mentions of surgery

Admiral Kazansky. A man who had looked danger in the face and laughed. A man who knew how to love, and only found it once. A man who knew how to command, and had, for years.

A man who was reduced to the IV in his arm, quietly studying the plaques on his office wall.

The soft murmurs of conversation meandered in through the small sliver of opening in the doorway.

He knew she was worried.

It was in the inflection of her voice, the way it wobbled like jello in the air, more so than when she was excited or overwhelmed.

Voice. Tom had never considered how much he had taken his for granted. How often he had said something out of frustration, made an unnecessarily rude comment, or raised his voice in anger.

Now, all he wanted to do, was to fill the air with soft words. Kind words. Words to express his love to his sweet wife. But every time he tried, he coughed violently, unable to get very far with anything he wanted to say. He knew it broke her heart seeing him suffer.

Tom absolutely despised what this was doing to her. Nevermind what it was doing to him and how it was making him feel weak, feel incapable, feel undesirable. It was hurting her. It was hurting his Pookie, and he loathed his condition for that.

He chuckled. Pookie. It was an unusual pet name, but he learned of her affection for the Irish legend of Pookas at the beginning of their courtship - after they had watched that Jimmy Stewart movie he couldn't remember the title of, it had just... stuck.

Tom hadn't been able to give her his better years, and while she pushed back on it every time he told her this, he still felt guilty. She had told him that the age gap wasn't what mattered.  As long as the love was there - and it definitely was - the better years were the ones spent together, even if they weren't the years typically associated with conventional relationships.

And then, after just a few short years of marital bliss, the diagnosis arrived. He couldn't shake his frustration with the whole situation. With himself.

Her footsteps came into the room. Tom didn't hear them at first, but he recognized them as he was pulled from his thoughts to look at Pookie. And oh, how he loved her.

She smiled softly at him, moving to sit on the arm of the chair, running a few affectionate fingers through his hair. It made him scowl slightly, knowing he had gelled it to perfection this morning, and that made her giggle.

Tom's free arm snaked around her hips, his hand resting comfortably on her curves. He wanted to say so much, to try and ease that look of anxious fear in her eyes that had been there since the day they had held hands at the hospital, sitting across from the doctor who had flipped their world upside down with just a few words.

But he couldn't. It strained him too much.

Somehow, Pookie read his mind like always, and she gently pressed her forehead to his.

Tom's head swirled with color as their noses bumped. His heart beat just a little faster. His arms felt just a little stronger, and after looking into those eyes of hers, there wasn't anything he couldn't do.

She lifted her head to look at the hanging bag, and he took the chance to nuzzle into her neck and breathe her in. He knew what was running through her mind. He didn't have to ask, he just knew.

Tom held her just a little tighter, pressing his lips to her neck with tenderness.

They remained this way a while, holding each other as the liquid in the bag drained at a painfully slow pace.

The hospice nurse called for her, and she left Tom with a kiss to his forehead before leaving to speak with the nurse.

"Mrs. Kazansky" was something Tom would never tire of hearing. He smiled and played with the ring on his left hand, trying not to focus on the needle in his arm. The best decision of his life, Tom was certain, was marrying her and making her his.

Without a doubt, Mrs. Kazansky was his pride and joy.

A little while later, the bag was empty. The nurse came back in and helped him with the IV, putting a bandaid on his arm and giving him strict instructions to rest.

She then left the room with the equipment, and he could hear his wife wish the nurse a Merry Christmas as she departed.

Christmas. Tom had almost forgotten, considering he had never imagined himself having his treatments Christmas Eve. Tom had never really loved the holidays, until Pookie came along and made everything magical.

He quietly waited as he heard her footsteps re approach. She stood in front of him, holding her hands out to help him up.

Tom, at the beginning of treatments, had refused help getting up. He was strong enough, and didn't want to seem incapable of standing on his own. Little had he realized, this was for her. She wanted to feel helpful. She wanted to hold him after he'd just gone through hell.

So, Tom took those sweet hands into his own, slowly standing and looking into her eyes.

Her eyes sparkled with a soft sort of excitement, and she led him into the kitchen, seating him at the counter. His smile widened as he saw the cookies. He knew there had been something sweet wafting into his office while he finished some work this morning. And here it was.

She pulled frosting from the fridge, three different colors, and set them in front of him with a butter knife. She moved again, and opened the overhead cupboard, sighing softly as she saw that his favorite sprinkles had migrated to the top shelf.

Tom could just see the cogs turning in her head, debating on getting the stepladder or just climbing on the counter. Instead, he slid off the stool, shuffling over to her and reaching up to grab the sprinkles himself.

Pookie opened her mouth to protest, and Tom put a finger over her lips, his hand moving to cup her cheek as his thumb brushed along her bottom lip. He gave her his usual look, making her smirk and shake her head at him.

He kissed her once, then moving back to the counter and settling in on the stool, leaning into the back of it.

Tom and her spent the evening with Christmas movies in the background, decorating the small batch of cookies she had made. He kept getting up, to change the movie, to get a spatula, to get a separate plate so they could give some to Maverick when he came to visit in the morning. She continued to warn him, trying to get him to relax and let her get up and grab whatever it was, but Tom gave her his signature wave and little furrowed brow to tell her that he was fine.

About an hour later, just as his lovely wife had estimated (not that he would ever admit she was right), he was exhausted. He slumped forward, arms folded on the counter, head down.

He felt her leave, and his brow furrowed slightly. What was she doing?

Tom lifted his head, and found Pookie sitting next to him again, with two wrapped presents in her hands.

Christmas pajamas.

Smiling softly, he put his glasses back on, and took his package from her. This year, because of his treatments, he hadn't felt well enough to go and pick them out with her. Tom only hoped she hadn't finally purchased the pink bunny costume from that annoying Christmas movie. She'd been teasing ever since they were married, and he just hoped...

His sigh of relief when he saw the pajamas did not escape Mrs. Kazansky, who laughed. His eyes met hers, eyebrows raising slightly as he looked between her and her wrapped pajamas.

Pookie's sweet smile widened. She unwrapped her pajamas, holding them up for Tom to see.

They matched.

She gently nudged him, motioning towards their bedroom as she moved to clean up the kitchen. Tom watched her for a moment before shuffling back to their room, to change into his pajamas.

He succeeded with the bottoms, but sat on the edge of the bed, fumbling with the buttons on the front of the top. Surely, he couldn't be that exhausted, right?

Tom yawned softly, and she came into the room, with her pajamas. She slipped into them so easily, his eyes teasing over her figure he loved so much. He wished he hadn't taken for granted all those years of how easy it was to move around. He'd snatch her up into his arms right now, if he could.

And then, there she was. He didn't even have to ask for it, but she began doing up the buttons on his shirt. His eyes watched her face carefully, his hands traveling to rest on her hips to pull her closer.

She smiled down at him, kissing his forehead gently, then holding his glasses to him.

Tom put his glasses back on, standing up and taking her hand in his. He led her out of the bedroom and into the living room, by the fireplace. She moved to the kitchen while Tom plopped down into the armchair by the smoldering embers of the fire Pookie had started earlier. He studied her as she moved around the kitchen, finishing making the tea she had started before changing into pajamas.

She set the tea cups on their saucers, and set them on the little table next to Tom.

He held his arms out, making small grabbing motions with his fingers. He wanted to hold her.

Pookie settled into his lap, and Tom kissed her forehead.

"My darling wife, I want to give you something." His voice felt like knives in his throat, and it concerned her. "I want to sing to you." He coughed a little.

"Tom, you need to rest your voice, you can't..."

"No, Pookie. I want to sing to you, one last time."

Tom sipped his warm tea, clearing his throat.

"Let me call you sweetheart, I'm in love with you..."

The song began raspy, as he had suspected. But as he continued, by the grace of the stars, Tom Kazansky's voice smoothed slightly, letting him carry the tune he so desperately wanted to convey to his wife.

"Let me hear you whisper that you love me too..."

It was the same tune they had danced to just a few years ago at their wedding. He could still see her in his arms, in that gorgeous dress she loved so much, swaying softly in the middle of a show floor on base. The lights were dim, just as they were now. It was a perfect moment - although, any moment with his wife was a perfect moment.

Tom felt Pookie snuggle further into him as he continued.

"Keep the love light glowing in your eyes so true..."

Tom felt the pressure in his throat finally give in, and he began to cough. Pookie moved swiftly, handing him the warm tea. Tom held her hands on the cup as he sipped from it again, soothing the soreness. He felt his self loathing begin to rise. He couldn't even sing to her one last time before his surgery rendered him basically voiceless. His frustration began to bubble, until Pookie began to sing.

His eyes shifted, seeing how her gaze sparkled with tears that reflected the Christmas lights on the mantle so well.

There were few times in his life that Admiral Thomas Kazansky had truly softened. A few moments for Maverick, a few for a couple colleagues. Pookie dominated most of his moments of vulnerability.

This one would top them all.

Tom felt his frustration with himself melt as she set his cup of warm tea down and took his face in her hands. Through her tears, and her broken voice that bled with affection, she sang the last line to him.

"Let me call you sweetheart, I'm in love with you..."

Tom took a deep breath, and like they had so many times before, they repeated that last line in unison, and he thanked his lucky stars he could finish for her, his voice smoothing once more for just a moment.

"Let me call you sweetheart, I'm in love... with... you."

Pookie kissed him softly before giving him his tea back to sip from, drinking from her own cup before setting it down and nuzzling into his neck.

Tom hummed softly, seeming to ask what she was thinking.

"I loved it."

"Pookie..."

It was her turn to put her finger on his mouth to stop him from speaking.

"Rest, darling. I loved it, and I love you, and that's all that matters."

She glanced at the tree and smiled, and settled back in his arms, her head comfortably nestled into his neck. Tom felt himself relax too. She loved him.

And, under the tree - if having her in his arms wasn't enough - in the morning, he'd get to open the third set of matching pajamas. Little pajamas.

Maybe there was hope for the Kazanksy's next year.

#tom kazansky x reader #tom iceman kazansky #tom kazansky #val kilmer #top gun #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #iceman x reader #iceman #christmas #christmas imagine

[rebelliousstories]

Candles

25 Days of Ficmas

Relationship: Tom “Iceman” Kazansky x Reader

Fandom: Top Gun

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff

Word Count: 1,286

Masterlist: Here

Summary: Tom doesn’t allow a lot of personal items in his office on base, much preferring to keep his loved ones close to his heart. But he had to have a little something.

As he rose in the ranks, Tom kept switching offices every few years. Never staying in one spot for too long. He supposed it was a good problem to have, but it also meant that he never cared too much about what was put up in his office during his inevitable short years there. There were his certificates that were displayed with pride, and the few personal effects he had with him. Models of the planes he flew, a single picture of his family’s annual Christmas photo they take every year, and a candle.

It seemed a weird item to have with him, but every office he had ever been in, that candle had followed him there. Tom had never lit the candle, but having it near him was enough. It was going on a decade old now, but it still was in perfect condition. The aroma, while not lit, still gently seeped into the air, providing Tom with a beautiful memory every time he let his mind drift further and further into the scent.

//

“Babe? Darling?” A young, ambitious pilot called out into the Navy housing he found himself in. The blonde set down his sea bag, and started the tiring process of taking his boots off. They were left by the door, and he made his way deeper into the house. He smelled food cooking on the stove, queuing him in as to where his girlfriend was. Tomatoes, meat, and pasta wafted into his nose as he took a deep breath in. But upon his second intentional smell, he noticed something else. Citrus, ginger, and a hint of vanilla that made you feel all warm and cozy, like making cookies on a frigid evening with your grandmother.

It was her favorite candle to burn, having bought almost fifty this year alone. Her one little guilty pleasure to have that Tom did not have the heart to take away from her. Walking into the kitchen, he was met with a precious sight. Tom’s loving girlfriend, dressed in his old navy shirt and sweatpants, hair pulled back messily, cooking over the hot stove. How did he get so lucky? Iceman made his way over to the woman and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her into his chest. She was startled at first, but relaxed smelling her lover’s familiar aftershave surround her.

“Hey! I didn’t hear you come in. How was work?” She asked, genuinely wanting to hear about his day. Tom rested his head down on her shoulder when she went back to stirring in the pots on the stove.

“It was alright. Just happy to be home with you.” He whispered, pressing a few kisses to her neck and shoulder. She hummed, and set down her utensils to turn in his arms finally. They shared a loving kiss once she did, and they both felt Tom’s body fully relax underneath the hands of his lover. Unfortunately, they needed air, so they pulled away and rested their foreheads against each other.

“Go take a shower, and I’ll have dinner ready for you when you get out, okay?” She whispered. Tom nodded his head as best he could and kissed her again before untangling himself from the warm body of his lover. He went to leave the kitchen and noticed the burning candle on the counter.

“How many of these have you gone through this year, darling?” He teased as she focused on the sauce in front of her.

“Oh, hush. You know you love the smell too.” She sent right back to him. Tom chuckled and left for his shower.

It was truly amazing what a shower at the end of a long and tiring day will do to revive someone. Just the act of scrubbing away all the exhaustion from the day, mentally and physically, did wonders for Tom as he emerged from their bedroom. Now, fresh and clean, he walked back to their dining room just in time to see his girlfriend plating the spaghetti bolognese she had made. He leaned against the doorway and just watched her for a moment. She was dressed in his clothing, which was adorably larger than she actually wore, setting their dinner table with the dinner that she made. It made him feel… domestic. Suddenly, he could see every night ending like this. Except now, he had a toddler to run after and a baby in her arms. The thought alone made his heart swell.

“Tom? Tommy?” She called, noticing her boyfriend standing there, staring off into nothing. He shook his head and smiled at the woman.

“Yeah? Sorry. Lost in my thoughts, darling.” Tom made his way over to her chair and pulled it out as he waited for her to finish up. She held a light smile on her face as she noticed that her boyfriend could not stop staring at her.

“Oh yeah? What were you thinking about?” She lightly teased as Tom sat down across from her, and begun to dig into the food on the table.

“Nothing. Don’t worry.” He dismissed, but she was still skeptical.

“Alright then. Tell me about your day then.” Tom launched into telling her all the things that he could tell her legally, knowing that she enjoyed hearing about his work whenever she could. Conversation quickly passed through different topics as the couple enjoyed their dinner, and through the ice cream dessert she had acquired at the store earlier in the day. As they lay together on the couch, watching old reruns of their favorite tv show, Tom took in another deep breath where the aroma of the candle flooded it.

“Why do you like this candle so much?” He inquired, turning to face his girlfriend who was snuggled into his side, with her head on his chest. She shrugged, yet still responded.

“This was the candle that was burning on the table when we went on our first date. I wrote it down when you had left so that you wouldn’t see or think I was weird for liking it so much. I just wanted to have a reminder of that first date. Plus I love candles, and now I think of you anytime it burns. When you’re deployed, it makes me remember you easier cause I associate you two together.” She explained, never lifting her head from his chest lest she would see a look of judgment across her boyfriend’s face. But she felt him press a kiss to her head, and he stayed buried there for a moment.

“I love that you have something like that. I wish I had known sooner.” Tom whispered into her hair. He felt her smile against him, and nuzzle further into his chest.

“Next time I go get another one, I’ll get you one too.” She promised, enjoying the warmth and love from her boyfriend.

“I would love that.” He agreed. In the back of his mind, the box in his duffle bag burned a whole through his conscious. Tom knew he wanted to give it to her, but this just solidified where he wanted to.

//

Now, all these years later, the candle sat in his office as a reminder. It was that candle that gave him all he has today. It gave him his wife, his children, and his happiness. That candle from all those years ago, from his first date with his love, gave him what he has today. And now, that candle sat on his desk no matter where he ended up to remind him of his joy throughout the years. It sat right next to the portrait of his family, one that they were due to update any day now, as a reminder.

#rebelliousstories #writing #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #tom kazansky imagine #tom iceman kazansky #25 days of christmas #25 days of ficmas #ficmas 2023 #iceman val kilmer #val kilmer #iceman fanfiction #iceman imagine #iceman x reader #top gun iceman #tom kazansky #tom kazansky x reader

[doingthingsthewriteway]

Moss

request: yes

summary: Daisy Pt. 2. More trials (and a lot of fluff) between doc and daisy

Doc Holliday was a lot of things and stupid was not on that list. Something that often got him in a heap of trouble was his education. Quick witted remarks in a variety of languages would swirl around his brain, ready to be drawn at a moment’s notice. He was well versed in novels, theater, nocturnes, and even a dash of politics. His understanding of God and the universe was also impressive. 

So no, he certainly wasn’t stupid. Why then was his Daisy hiding things from him? Did she think his male nature made him inherently oblivious to the state of things? Clearly something was wrong. 

Smoke from a pipe- not a cigar nor cigarette but herbs his Y/N read about to ease his pain thank you very much- billowed around swirling with all of his doubts. Doc puffed away as he thought back on all of the recent nonsense. 

First was subtle. One fine evening, Doc’s family gathered in the Oriental. He felt himself glow with pride as the Earp’s and Y/N surrounded him each night. Sometimes he thought he was delirious with another fever as the sound of laughter and touches of affection enveloped him. 

That evening, however, as he waited patiently for Y/N return to his lap, a frown furrowed his handsome face. She balanced on his thighs, glass in hand. “Darlin’?” He tapped the glass with a hesitant finger. “You switch to gin?” 

Her laugh was enough to erase the frown. “No, huckleberry, I thought we could benefit from some water. I still don’t want you drinking, can’t live without you.”

“Oh hell, honey, you’re stuck with my nonsense for the rest of your life.” Her pretty eyelashes and bustle free legs were enough to make him forget. 

Then, all together, Y/N stopped their evening nightcap. Now, yes he needed to quit his drinking to excess, but a glass of bourbon with his baby every night surely was not a problem. Doc wondered if going to the Oriental every night reminded his bride of his affair, which seemed reasonable. Certainly not willing to be on the receiving end of her wrath anytime soon, he let that go. 

Next was more straight forward. Wyatt had received tickets for boxsets at the Birdcage. Y/N loved Faust so naturally Doc jumped at the chance for a family outing. His darling all but squealed with delight when Doc sauntered into suite, with a dress bag slung over his arm. 

“May I have the pleasure of escorting you to the depths of hell tonight, Mrs. Holliday?” Mustached lips tickled up her arm, over her collarbone, and down to her cleavage. 

“Oh absolutely, Mr. Holliday!” Taking the dress out of the brown wrapping, she gasped. “Oh, John!” It was her turn to sprinkle his gruff face with kisses. 

The maroon silk looked downright sinful on his bride (and she thought the exact same thing about his matching waist coat). The Hollidays were a sight to behold in Tombstone. With her on his arm, Doc felt all the southern gentry he was raised in. Nothing could make him feel unworthy of power or love. 

Settled in the dim theater, Y/N fanned herself, a rush of heat hitting her. A holler from the floor seats broke her trance and drew her eyes of the one she despised most. Johnny Ringo practically howled at her, tongue wagging like a rabid dog. 

“Pay no mind to Mr. Ringo.” A gentle hand grasped her chin and forced her attention back to Doc, where it belong he reasoned. “Only I may purchase your soul.” 

Y/N’s eyes fluttered and hummed in delight. “You already have, Doc.” That settled his swirling doubts. Yes, he liked to think he held her soul inside his own. His soul clutching to hers in order to survive. He owned her, not in an oppressive sense. Not like how his father view his mother, but in the way that she was his and his alone and he could proudly say the same. 

Yet, just shy of intermission his darling uttered a “oh fuck” under her breath. Doc chuckled, eyebrow quirked in amusement. Yet before he could comment on the lewd nature of his otherwise polite wife, she was grasping her skirts and rushing out of the box. 

Before he could even move, Allie Earp ran after his wife. Looking at the remaining Earps- excluding Wyatt who looked all too close to committing something dangerous- Doc glared. “Something I don’t know?” 

“Lady stuff?” Morgan suggested earning a grunt of support from Virgil. 

At intermission, Doc found his wife with Allie. Allie had the audacity to grin at Doc, blue eyes twinkling. “Doctor is in.” She giggled. 

And yes, normally Doc would have ate that up. Reveling in the limelight and delightful female attention. However, normally Doc was the unstable one and not his wife.  Still, he couldn’t help himself from saying a charming, “It seems my favorite patient is ill.” 

“I’m fine, Doc.” Y/N offered a grimace of a smile. Slowly standing, she took the fan from Allie. “Just got too hot all of a sudden.” 

Nodding, if only to avoid adding another public confrontation to the history of their relationship, Doc ordered a tonic water from the bar and escorted his wife back to their seats. Allie just chittering all the way. 

The final straw was down right offensive. Doc enjoyed few things more than waking up in the early hours of the morning when the sun was just beginning to think of rising and loving his wife. She was always so eager from a nights rest that she just folded into him. His lungs weren’t heavy from a full day allowing him to thrust and grunt for a glorious eternity. 

Yet, every morning that past week when he rolled over she was gone. He’d call out her name practically mewling with need only to be met with silence. Ignoring the hurt that struck his heart, he’d go back to bed. 

Finally, this morning was the last straw. He figured he’d stay awake, greet her entering their room. The longer he sat awake, pipe in hand, the wilder this thoughts went. Doc prided himself in a remarkably even temper but fear was ensnaring his rationality. 

A dose of opium sounded wonderful right about now. It would just calm his nerves, make it so he wouldn’t lash out. Last thing he wanted to do to his daisy was be mean. Lord knows he’s hurt her enough. He was sure he had a vial tucked away somewhere. 

By the time she entered their room, Doc was in tears. Red eyes narrowed into a glare at her. She gasped. “Doc, are you alright?” 

A rumbling cough worked its way out his lungs. “Daisy, I am rolling.” He hissed. Standing from his spot by the window, he grabbed his cane for balance. “Awful late night for you though.” 

“Are you high?” 

“I hardly see the need in answering that.” He snipped. “It’s quite obvious we both are up to things we shouldn’t be.” 

“Now, John, listen to me.”

“Is it to get back at me? Do you think my heart doesn’t hurt when you leave me?” 

“John, please just trust me.” her voice wobbled with tears. 

“I know I’ve not been the best husband to you-“

“You’ve been wonderful.” 

“Stop lying.” The opium only made his accent stronger. “Please just be honest with me, my soul can’t bare it any longer.” 

With a sad smile, Y/N crossed the floor to her husband. One hand tenderly held his cheek, wiping away at trailing tears. The other reached for his own, pressing a key into his palm. “Get dressed and follow me.” 

Confused, dazed, spellbound by his bride he dressed quickly. She held her arm out to him knowing his pride would much prefer her to stabilize him than his cane. “I’ve not been truthful and I am so very sorry for that Doc, but I hope you’ll forgive me.” 

They walked the dusty streets of Tombstone together. The early morning air left their lungs clear. Cactus clung to the early morning dew as the couple clung to each other. Near the edge of town, Y/N paused in front of a stately Greek Revival home. 

“Isn’t it beautiful?” She asked nuzzling into his neck. 

“Yes, though it is difficult to find anything that compares to you darlin’.” 

With warm cheeks, Y/N giggled. “Try the key Doc.” 

“I beg your pardon?” Doc sputtered pulling away in shock. 

“Try the key.” 

A burst of speed had him rushing to the door. Rocking chairs lined the porch, tucked safely behind columns. The key slide in perfectly. Her name was all he could sigh, tears welling in his eyes again. 

Joining him, she nudged him forward. “I’ll give you the tour.” 

While still barren of furniture, the grand home had billowing curtains with long windows that ached of home. As Y/N rattled on about something to do with paint colors Doc waved a hand of dismissal not really caring how she wanted to paint. 

“How?” He managed to grunt,masking his emotion with a forced cough. 

“I was left an impressive about of money in a will.” A small smile tugged on her lips. “A great aunt everyone else hated. The only stipulation was to use it for my family.” 

A tug on his hand led up him the stately staircase. “I was thinking our bedroom could be here if-“ 

“I can handle them darlin’. Don’t you worry about me.” 

The next door was shut, Y/N’s eyes glittering with mischief. “This is your second surprise.” 

“Oh if this is one of those sinful European things-“Doc paused as the door opened revealing the only painted room in the house. 

gentle moss green walls greeted him. A canopy hung from the ceiling, the netting protecting a crib. “Daisy? Are you in a delicate way?” His green eyes flickered from her face to the perky bodice of her dress  to her tummy. 

A nod of her head confirmed. his heart nearly burst out his chest. A joyful laugh tickled out his throat. He didn’t give a damn what would be said about him now, his wife was carrying his baby. His. 

Nudging her nose against his, she leaned in to capture his lips pulling softly on the plump skin. Words weren’t needed as they removed each layer of clothing from each other. Fingers interlocked as they lay together on the soft mossy green rug below them. 

#doc holliday imagine #doc holliday x reader #doc holliday imagines #val kilmer x reader #val kilmer imagine #val kilmer imagines #tombstone imagines

[hotgirlmav]

Fatal Attraction — Tom 'Iceman' Kazansky x Reader

Pairing: Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky x Female!Reader (18+)

Description: Much like every other person that came across Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky, you had developed quite the crush on him. What made you different, though, was that you were the niece of his direct superior. He knew it was wrong, and he knew he shouldn’t entertain the idea in the slightest, but a little teasing never killed anyone, right?

Warnings: Explicit language, insane dirty talk, semi-possessive Iceman, sexual thoughts and tension, allusions to smut, so much pining, degradation kink, Iceman not wanting to pull a Maverick, Iceman doing just that. You know the drill.

Word Count: 4,279.

A/N: Not only was this much longer than I expected, but it ended up being much dirtier. I’M SORRY, Iceman just does something to me. He does something to all of us. Val Kilmer, you will PAY FOR THIS.

Requests are still open!

Another Friday morning. How lovely.

You were currently making your way to Commander Mike Metcalf’s office, commonly known around those grounds as Viper. The skylight beaming throughout the windows of the naval building illuminated the hallway before you, further reminding you of just how tired you were.

Every single day for the entire month that you were in San Diego, your uncle would forget his lunch. In several ways, his unintentional forgetfulness reminded you very deeply of your father, further proving just why those two were best friends. Had it not been for you, the containers so articulately and thoughtfully prepared by your aunt would have remained right where she left them on the granite countertop.

The first time it happened, you figured that you would just take it to the base on your way out, seeing as you had a few light errands to run. That was all it took for that very action to become a key part of your daily routine for the entire duration of your visit. You would never complain, though. Not when you were happily occupying the guest bedroom in his very, very beautiful house.

To be quite fair, not all of it was so bad. It thrilled you to see the stunning aircrafts taking off on the runways as you stole glances out of the windows, and it was always fun to hang out in your uncle’s office. The best parts, however, were the pilots.

God, the pilots.

The naval aviators studying at Top Gun were nothing short of cocky, but it wasn’t as if they had no reason to be. They were young, they were the best at what they did, they were hot shit— they were the future of the Navy. The very world was at their fingertips, and they were well aware of that fact.

Your uncle had warned you about these men. Some of them got a bit too cocky, resulting in them crashing and burning. Sometimes metaphorically, sometimes literally, as brutal as that was. For the most part, you heeded his warnings with ease, taking the warmest comfort in knowing that his expertise on the subject had been perfected over the course of your entire lifetime. You had been flirted with by quite a few of the men, but it never seemed to have any impact on you. None of them really captured your interest, nor did they properly catch your eye.

Well— none of them except Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky, of course.

From the moment you laid your eyes on him, you were completely hooked. You had no idea whether it was because of his undeniably indescribable beauty, his electrifyingly powerful aura, his domineering and enigmatic attitude, his precision when flying, his irresistibly alluring charm, or his very evident intellect. All you knew was that whatever it was, it completely consumed you. It devoured you.

Never in your life had you hungered for another human being so deeply. The very sight of him set your heart ablaze, despite him acting as a walking example of everything your uncle warned you against.

In your most humble defense, you thought your uncle should consider himself lucky that you weren't madly in love with Maverick, but that was another story.

The very thought of Iceman put quite the smile on your face as you entered the vacant office, any remainder of sleep in your eyes disappearing into thin air. You inhaled sharply as a means to take a deep breath and sauntered over to his desk, absentmindedly leaving the door open behind you.

Your mind began to wander in just the few seconds it took for you to walk. What was Iceman doing? Would he be happy to see you, if he even did? How did flying go today? Did Maverick piss him off again? You didn’t even have to ask that one, you already knew what the answer was.

What went through that pretty head of his? After asking yourself the question, you realized just how much you truly wanted to know the answer to it. Even though you had only been in his presence for just a month and you had only slightly conversed with one another, you wanted to know everything there was to know about the enigmatic man. You wanted to know why he was the way he was, why he did the things that he did. Everything. You wanted to go back to where it all began, you wanted to know every minute detail that he probably hadn’t even noticed himself. You wanted to know if the cheeky little glances and the few devious smirks he’d flash you whenever you briefly spoke meant anything, or if that was just something he did to everyone.

After just a moment, a very particular voice rang through your ears like no other, your heart falling to your feet once you heard it. You hadn’t even reached the desk once it pierced your ears; the containers were still in your hand.

“There she is.”

You turned your head and there he was.

A subtly grinning Tom Kazansky, fully adorned in his flight suit. Because of how engulfed you were in your own thoughts, you didn’t even realize that training must have been over. Men had been roaming the halls outside the office for a few minutes now, much to your chagrin. That man in particular, however, noticed you the second he entered the building.

Immediately, your lips were curling into a wide grin, not even being able to fight your excitement as you giggled at just the sight of him. Trying to hold your composure as calmly as possible, you turned and set the containers on Viper’s desk, your back now facing him. “Good morning, Ice.”

Had you not missed making an appearance yesterday, you felt as though you would have been much more collected. It was the only day in the past month that you didn’t show up to drop off lunch, and the Iceman withdrawal was hitting you with the intensity of ten hammers. The thing that bothered you the most about it was the fact that he couldn’t have been thinking about you. No, of course not. While you were lying awake at the thought of not seeing Tom Kazansky for the first time in a month, you were sure that he was chatting up some blonde, sipping his ice water with his aviators on his stupidly beautiful face.

That asshole.

“I missed you yesterday.” He told you so casually, treating the words as if they were as simple as him asking you what the weather was. To him, the words were nothing more than a simple little fact, but to you, they were the warmest sentiment you had ever received. Your heart both stopped and sped up as your eyes widened, your back still turned to him.

You stopped dead in your tracks as you heard his words, something that did not go unnoticed by him. Your eyebrows were furrowed as your widened eyes stayed firmly on the surface of the desk. Your fingers were still lightly planted on the containers while you stood, not even looking over your shoulder as you spoke before you could think. “You noticed I was gone?”

Iceman was aware of your reaction the second you froze. He didn’t fight the smirk that was forming on his face, seeing as your back was still turned to him. Had you been looking at him, he wouldn’t have embarrassed you with the way his gaze was glued to your figure. Had you been looking at him, you would have seen the way his eyes were heavily clouded with lust as they were planted on you. Had you been looking at him, you would have seen the way his cheek was hollowed from the way he was biting the inside of it. Had you been looking at him, you would have seen the way he was eye-fucking you the same way you did to him whenever he had his back to you.

Within the next few seconds, though, the words that fell from his lips seemed to be what sent you over the edge. You could practically hear your heart pounding out of your chest as you felt your entire body heat up. Weirdly enough, even as hot as your skin felt, you felt goosebumps rising along your spine.

“I notice a lot of things about you.”

That was enough for you to finally let go of the container, making an attempt to face him very casually. Your body turned and you immediately cleared your throat at the sight of him, trying your hardest to disguise it as something very normal. Even under all of his aviation gear, you could see that his toned body was a bit tense. His sunglasses must have been in one of his pockets, seeing as you had a full view of his face.

“Like?” You further egged him on, mentally patting yourself on the back for it.

“Yeah, that’s right. Fall into the trap. Take the bait. Come on.” You thought to yourself as you gazed over at him, silently hoping he wouldn’t examine your face the way you were trying to examine his.

You silently hoped that he would be oblivious to your feelings about him, but even the furthest person in the building could identify the lust in your eyes. You were blinking almost every second as a means to suppress your excitement, but there was no use. His eyes were firmly fixated on yours, and you could feel your heart continue to race as a result. You wondered if he saw the look in your eyes for what it was; a mixture of lust, desire, and admiration.

For someone as cold as Iceman was, he was not an asshole. He could see the look in your eyes as clear as day, of course he could. He recognized that very look in nearly every woman that looked at him. The most notable difference, though, was that he wanted you to look at him.

To say that Tom Kazansky had quite an effect on people, typically women, was an extreme understatement. From his enchantingly full lips, to his quite muscularly toned frame, to his domineering aura, even to his precision, it was safe to say that he knew all eyes were on him when he entered a room. For the love of all that is holy, he’s Iceman.

He’d be a fool to think that he wasn’t the subject of most people’s desires, and a fool was the last thing he was.

Regardless of how he knew people gawked at him, dreamt of him, and even craved him, none of it seemed to truly capture his interest. For all that it was worth, the man was practically next to unattainable. He liked to have fun, yes, but all of his focus went to flying. It was very safe to say that people were able to catch his eye, but never his interest.

Everyone except you, that is.

From the moment you caught his eye on the first day you came, he was intrigued. The pure confusion in your eyes as you tried to navigate the corridors had him in quite a trance, which did not go unnoticed by his friends.

“Slider, who is that?” The words fell from his lips with what was almost an embarrassing amount of interest. His eyes fixated on you as if he was scared to look away.

Slider glanced over at you once he heard his friend ask the question, his eyebrows raising at the sight. There was no denying that you were a beautiful woman. From the way your precious sundress hugged your waist and flowed just to your mid-thigh, Iceman had to nudge Slider to prevent him from devouring your body with his eyes. In doing so, Slider figured that he was telling him to back off. He figured that he was claiming you, and due to the fact that Slider was very highly up Iceman’s ass, he would oblige.

Before he could answer, you met both of their gazes and took a sharp breath, assuming that they were silently laughing at you for how lost you were. You flashed a gentle smile once you saw Slider kindly nod at you as a greeting, making your way over.

“Excuse me.” Your heavenly voice filled Iceman’s ears, causing him to stand up straight. You were speaking to Slider when you went over, but once you caught a glimpse of the man beside him, your mind went completely blank. Your lips parted as you gazed up at him, blinking a few times before you forced the words out. “Do you know where I can find Mike Metcalf’s office?”

“Viper?” Iceman asked with furrowed eyebrows, knowing you must not have been from around there by the way you neglected Viper’s callsign. You rolled your eyes at your own mistake and let out a small giggle, nodding your head.

“Yes, I’m sorry. He’s my uncle, I was just dropping by because he forgot his lunch.” You sweetly told the two pilots, both of them clearly quite surprised at the revelation.

“No, no way. You’re too pretty to be related to Viper.” Slider casually remarked, earning one of the coldest glares that Iceman could conjure up. You let a small laugh out at the flattery, shaking your head slightly in response.

“He’s my dad’s best friend. I’ve just known him as my uncle my whole life.” You gently spoke, a cheeky little grin on your face as you decided to tease the taller man. “I’ll tell your commander that you said that.”

Slider’s life flashed before his eyes as Iceman let out a cool chuckle at your words, causing you to silently and subtly swoon. You glanced over at him with a warm grin, your breath hitching in your throat as you finally met his intense gaze.

“Two doors to the left, sweetheart. You were almost there.” Iceman told you in a tone that would’ve made anyone fold right then and there, the smirk on his face tying it all up. You immediately swallowed once you felt your mouth water and shifted in your stance, not being able to help the smile that was on your face.

“Thank you, um…” You began, now noticing that they hadn’t introduced themselves to you.

Slider opened his mouth to speak, but it was no use. Iceman was already politely extending his large hand, the size of it almost making you faint.

“Iceman.” He stated it in a way that you couldn’t properly identify. It wasn’t cocky, but it was definitely sure of himself. Yes, that was it. He was very sure of himself.

You shifted the container to one of your hands and used your free one to grip his, the firmness in both of your hands as you shook causing you to suppress a literal moan. Your hand was quite small and warm, as opposed to his large, cold one. Your skin was soft; his was calloused. You didn’t want to let go, but any second longer would have resulted in you just pouncing on him.

“Iceman.” You repeated in a mutter, causing his smirk to return and his attraction to replace all hints of professionalism that still remained in his expression. You took a deep breath and retracted your hand, kindly smiling at the pair of them as you snapped out of it. “Thank you both.”

Once you began to walk away, Iceman made no attempt to hide the fact that he was gazing at you. Your figure was now an image that was burned into his memory, something that came in handy in his dirtiest and most desperate moments. You truly would never know that Iceman had taken quite an interest in you long before you had taken one in him.

“Viper’s niece. There’s your answer.” Slider chirped out as an answer to his former question, looking down at his watch.

“Not biologically.” Iceman responded in a way that sounded all too familiar, causing him to furrow his own eyebrows. He didn’t even know where that came from.

“Yeah, Ice, good luck with that. See how well Commander Viper would take you being laid up with his niece, blood or not.” Slider dryly laughed out loud, shaking his head. “Don’t shit where you eat. Don’t pull a Maverick.”

The reference to Maverick relentlessly trying to get Charlie was something they all made fun of, despite not knowing that he had been successful in doing so. Immediately, Iceman’s face dropped.

Maverick. Maverick would try you. Holy FUCK, Maverick would definitely try you.

“Shut up, Slider.” Iceman seethed through his teeth lowly at the thought, taking a sharp breath. Once he put his aviators on, he only tried to disregard the thought of you. He had worked incredibly hard to get where he was, and he refused to put his lust before his work. That was the difference between him and Maverick. He was logical, and Maverick was the most impulsive person in the world.

Iceman cleared his throat as the thought of meeting you flashed throughout his mind so briefly, now meeting your gaze. You recognized the way he cleared his throat and didn’t even try to hide your smirk, as it was the way you always did when he teased you.

You made him flustered.

“Like what, Iceman?” You asked in an even softer tone than before, your head tilting to the side. You could see the lust in his eyes for the first time since you met him, trying not to let it corrupt your position of having the upper-hand.

In true Iceman fashion, however, he refused to not be the one in control.

A cold chuckle escaped his lips as he shook his head, now standing up straight. The sound of his boots hit the floor in a way that made you feel as if you were listening to a sweet tune. He slowly inched inside of the office before he used his large hand to push the door shut behind him, doing so very quietly.

“I don’t think you can handle it.” He teased you in a light tone, his voice almost intimidating you as you tried your hardest not to shift. Now, he was standing in front of you, the smirk on his face prominent as he used his tongue to wet his lips. Unbeknownst to you, he only did so to see if you would gaze at his lips during the process. Much to his satisfaction, you did.

Your lips parted as you basked in the sight, completely submitting to him in that moment. He wanted the power, and you let him mercilessly take it. Trying your best to fight against the situation, you gulped silently and said the very first words that crossed your mind.

“Try me.”

For such small and seemingly harmless words, they truly acted as the match to the sensitive gas tank that was his self-restraint. He knew that it was incredibly unwise to jeopardize his position by involving himself with you, but he could no longer control himself. From your parted lips to your doe-like eyes, he found himself unable to resist you. The privacy of the four walls in the office intoxicated him in a way alcohol would. The mere fact that he could make a complete mess out of you with no one knowing filled his head, but what prevented him from doing so was the fear of getting caught.

Fuck, you two couldn’t get caught.

For the love of God, you were in his commander’s office. To add even more danger to the situation, you were the niece of that very commander. Not only would he be severely punished if he was caught with someone there, but if he was caught with you there, Viper would just fuck him up. None of that mattered to him in the moment, though. The way you were slightly backed up to where you were standing in front of the desk was enough for him to disregard his thoughts. Gazing at the needy little look in your eyes, he decided to use the risks to his advantage.

Still standing right in front of you, he took his time in dipping his head down, your hands practically shaking as you felt his lips not even a few centimeters away from yours. You could feel his minty breath hit your lips as he parted his own, causing you to grip the edges of the desk behind you.

“How would your uncle feel if he knew this is what you did at his job, hm?” He whispered to you, his lips slightly brushing against yours as he spoke. He was that close to you.

You would be lying if you said you weren’t a bit ashamed, even though that was not his goal at all. If you weren’t as aroused as you were, you probably would have stopped whatever was transpiring between the pair of you.

“How would he feel if he knew that while he was out serving his country, you were in his office, practically begging to be fucked by one of his colleagues?” His whisper hit your lips once more, your eyebrows furrowing in desperation as your mouth slightly fell open. You wanted him, you craved him. You needed him.

The look on your face caused his large hands to find shelter on your hips, his grip making it seem as though he was holding onto you for dear life. He effortlessly lifted you off of your feet and almost roughly set you down on the desk, wasting no time in spreading your legs for him to step in between.

You didn’t even slightly resist. You were his for the taking.

“How would he feel,” he trailed, his rough fingertips running along your bare thighs before he lifted one of his hands, gently yet firmly gripping your neck with it. “If he knew that you were on his desk, begging to be fucked like the dirty little slut you are?”

You had never been spoken to that way, both sexually and non-sexually. Your heart was racing as the words traveled from your ears to your stomach, warming your body up entirely. You couldn’t even speak. All you could do was gently grip the fabric of his flight suit, which wasn’t aiding your desire for him in the slightest bit.

“He could walk in here at any time, but you don’t care.” Iceman coldly chuckled at your needy little expression, his lips still hardly away from yours. Teasing you even further, his head tilted to the opposite side that yours was tilted to, the tip of his tongue lightly running across your parted lips. You finally let a small whine out, having had quite enough of his teasing. You swatted at his chest and properly crashed your lips onto his, silently thanking every higher power for the fact that he returned your kiss.

The kiss was foul. Both of you were desperately trying to taste one another, the sounds coming from you two being enough to kill a nun. In the process of it all, he had pulled your hips closer to his, your sundress riding up as he did so. The thin fabric of your panties and his entire flight suit separated you from his bulge, but you could still definitely feel it. Before you could even begin grinding your hips the way you wanted to, he detached his lips from yours and chuckled softly, glancing down at the beautiful sight underneath him.

“All you want is for me to fuck you stupid and leave you a pathetic, needy little mess. Used like the fucking toy you are.” He seethed through his teeth in a way that sent you in a whirlwind, causing your back to arch for the man.

With the sound of rising chatter in the hallways outside of the office, both of you were brought out of your lust-driven haze, resulting in the most sexual tension you had ever been in. He let a chuckle escape his lips at the sight of you as he took a deep breath, stepping back a few times.

“I told you that you couldn’t handle it.” He teased you in a tone that made you roll your eyes, standing up from your position on the desk. You fixed your sundress and hid the way that you were smiling from him, your head turned away from him.

“Listen, a few of the guys and I are going to play volleyball after training.” He informed you with a hint of something you couldn’t quite recognize. For a second, it almost sounded like Iceman, the Iceman, was a bit nervous. “Maybe you can come with us. Hold my shirt for me, throw rocks at Maverick and Goose. You know.”

Your lips curled into the biggest smile he had ever seen, your gaze on him telling him just how long you had been waiting for him to ask you out, even if it was to do something as small as watching him play volleyball.

“Maybe, we’ll see. I’ll throw rocks at whoever’s losing.” You teased him gently, earning an amused chuckle as he opened the door. “I’ve heard that there’s just something about that Maverick. I think he has a real shot at winning.”

The dull and playful glare made your incessant teasing worthwhile, but what he said before he left was what made you giggle and squeeze your eyes shut once you were alone.

“Try telling me that again after I make a pretty, whimpering mess out of you.”

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[topgun-imagines]

Day 6: Part Of Me

Pairing: Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky x fem!reader

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

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

Word count: 1.5k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You had lost your baby.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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[rosiahills22]

HAPPY MOTHERS DAY TO ALL THE TOP GUN MAMAS ❤️❤️❤️

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[roosterbruiser]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"got it, slugger?"

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

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

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

"how do I look?" he asks.

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

"whipped," you answer honestly.

he barks out a big laugh and you keen.

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

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

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

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

he smooths his hands over your hair, humming.

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

"fat chance," you snort.

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

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

grinning, you hold his cheeks.

"I love the way your mind works."

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