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allbark-no-bite · 5 months

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i would’ve married you.

icemav x reader (wc. 2.4k)

summary: It had always been Maverick. It had been Maverick long before you met Ice and would continue to be Maverick until he took his last breath.

warnings: severe angst, mentions of cancer, vomiting, character death

authors note: for all of my followers, i know this isn’t something that i would usually post but i’m immensely proud of it. this is for all of my Icemav Topgun people out there

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You watch as he cinches his belt one, two, five times. But you didn't have to watch him dress to know how much weight he had lost. The gauntness of his cheekbones could have told you that. He could have told you that. But he doesn't. And neither of you talk about it.

He just trudges tiredly out of the bedroom, running a hand through his frosty hair as he passes through the door frame. It seemed as though out of all the loss you had expected to come along with chemo, both the tumor and his hair were insistent upon staying.

Tom had the kind of hair that one would expect a man aging into his thirties to have: still relatively thick, however dulling in color, and ever threatening to see it's final days. Except it had looked like this for the past ten years. So had you expected the chemo to finally push the bleach damaged strands over the edge? Yes. Were you surprised when it didn't? No.

Along with his steel cut jawline and the soft roundness that his high cheekbones had given his face, it worked for him. He seemed to be perpetually never aging, stuck between a spry young cadet and weathered admiral.

"Where are you going? You have an appointment today." You watch, unamused and arms crossed as he moves through the house, gathering his things.

"No, I have to go into the office today. I'm already behind on too much paperwork," he corrects, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

Tom has never been a coffee person, but these days he's totaling a minimum of two cups a day. That's not counting whatever he has while at work. It splashes onto the counter in his haste, but either he's moving too fluidly to notice or just doesn't care.

Normally his carelessness would have ticked you off, and you'd tell him off for the mess, tired of having to mother a grown man in his own home, but you're trying. Trying to be more gentle—be more patient. There is this tremendously guilty feeling that occurs when you yell at someone with cancer. Cancer. You hardly ever even say the word aloud.

It had started out as a persistent ear ache. Something he had chalked up to years of flying. He took antibiotics and that seemed to take care of the pain for a while. Then came the difficulty swallowing, followed by swollen lymph nodes, and finally the cough. It was the cough that he couldn't manage to shake.

"You can't keep missing treatments," you say, even though he knows. Sometimes you think it's worse that he's well versed about his condition. The first few weeks after finding out, he would come home, shower, and spend hours reading books that detailed symptoms and various treatments. Those hours bled into long anxious nights where the bedside lamp never turned off and neither of yourselves slept.

He knows what every symptom means; when it's good, when it's really bad.

Ice is already almost out the door, tugging on a coat that he snatched from god knows where, his combat boots shoved on haphazardly on his feet. His blonde hair is mushed from sleep, cowlicked on one side and only serving to add to his disheveled state. It's longer now, longer than it has been in a while. He'd always kept his hair cropped short in the time that you had known him, but now it was just long enough to stick out over his ears and brush the back of his neck.

"I agreed to do this shit as long as it didn't interfere with anything. It worked for a while but now I'm done. You knew the agreement."

The agreement. The agreement that you and Ice had settled on nearly ten months prior, back when he was just starting chemo—what seemed like a lifetime ago.

He hadn't wanted to undergo treatment. Hadn't wanted to endure the debilitating side effects that would come as a result. The doctors had given him a couple more years if he chose to do nothing. They'd make him 'comfortable' as they called it, and he could carry on with his duties until he couldn't. It was a guaranteed death sentence.

The chemo gave him a chance. You'd begged him to at least try. It was worth a try. Eventually he had given in under the condition that he would do the treatments until they started affecting his job. Your hope was that the chemo would stave off the disease long enough to buy him more time until then. At ten months, the tumor had shrunk in size, but Tom was feeling the effects of the radiation. He was nauseous more often than not and it was rare that he kept anything down. His joints stiffened and along with that came constant fatigue. The mouth sores were probably the worst development.

"That's not fair. You feel like crap because it's working," you argue, but it's like talking to a brick wall. He's not listening, tuning you out as he grabs his keys. He's been looking for an excuse to quit and it seemed as though he'd finally hit his breaking point. "If you skip again, everything so far will have been for nothing. You'll be right back where you started—"

His hand sliding off the doorknob, Ice turns to face you. He releases an exasperated sigh, fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. The crease between his brows seems to have become permanent these days. "The stupid appointment will be here when I get back. You will be here when I get back. My career, this opportunity, will not."

"You don't mean that," you whisper, fighting the tightening of your throat, but you don't even believe yourself when you say it.

For a fraction of a second, he at least has the decency to look guilty. Ice pauses in the doorway, his mouth opening then closing as he decides against whatever he was going to say.

"Tom...," you begin to please with him, your voice cracking, but the front door had already slammed shut.

A text comes from Slider later that day.

You need to come get him.

Had you received such a text twelve months ago, you would have assumed that Tom was being an intolerable ass and that the team was at their wits' end with him. These days he hardly even has enough energy to walk from his desk to the door, let alone raise any sort of hell like he used to.

It seems foolish to miss that kind of thing, but you do. You all miss the normalcy of it.

When you make it to the base, it is buzzing with life. The tarmac is lined with rows of aircraft and men, both returning and awaiting takeoff. Given today was the first day for new recruits, it wasn't unusual for things to be so chaotic. You find Viper behind his desk as usual, phone pressed to his ear. Upon spotting you, he covers the receiver and mouths 'bathroom'.

You find him in the one behind the showers in the locker room. He's braced over the sink, heaving. Maverick is there. Maverick is always there.

The brunette pilot is standing beside Ice, a hand on his back to steady him as he retches. Maverick's leant over, murmuring something into his ear, only taking note of you standing in the doorway as he straightens. He nods in greeting to you just slightly, a grim look in his green eyes.

You'd long ago become accustomed to the idea that Ice was not purely yours. The navy owned him first and foremost. That was sworn in oath and inarguable. But anything after that became a little less clear. There was Maverick, and then there was you.

But you knew that.

When you had first met Ice on a night out at the bar, you were completely and hopelessly swooned by his charm, convinced that you'd just met the love of your life. And then you met Maverick and realized that was never going to be true.

It had always been Maverick. It had been Maverick long before you met Ice and would continue to be Maverick until he took his last breath.

Knowing first hand that Tom doesn't like being crowded when he's like this, you wait until he straightens before making your presence known behind him. He doesn't even flinch at the feel of your hand on his back, and you take that as a bad sign. Usually he'd bristle defensively, snap at you that he could handle it on his own. You know his anger comes from a place of fear—fear of being vulnerable, fear of dying.

His face is pale and tired looking, even more so than usual. You press the back of your palm to his forehead but find that he's not unusually warm, which is good. His flushed cheeks and watery eyes must be from gagging.

Maverick now stands a few paces away, hands clasped together behind his back. He's always kept his distance when you were around, held back by not only his respect for you but the laws of the navy. One wrong move at the wrong place at the wrong time would have himself and Ice dishonorably discharged. Their careers would amount to nothing.

If it hadn’t been for DADT, you don’t think Tom would have chosen you. Had the government allowed it, he would have put an engagement ring on Pete’s finger instead of yours. You probably wouldn’t even be a part of his life. And you carry around a lot of guilt because of that. It’s been one of the most selfish things you’ve ever done, agreeing to marry Tom. But at the same time there’s a part of you that doesn’t feel guilty at all because at least that it meant you got to spend your life with him.

Tom was the love of your life, but you weren’t his. Tom loved you, he genuinely did, but he wasn’t in love with you. That was reserved for Maverick.

Tom sucks in a ragged breath, one that hurts your own chest, and a fit of coughing follows it You’re afraid you’re going to hear that cough and it’s painful sharpness for years to come, but what you’re even more afraid of is the day you don’t. You swallow the knot in your throat and pet a hand through Tom’s hair, tenderly brushing it away from his eyes.

The reality of the situation is beginning to hit you, and there’s little you can do to keep the tears from your eyes. Once he stops chemo, there’s no telling how much more time he has left. It could be a couple weeks or it could be years, but regardless, he’s done fighting.

“Pete,” you begin, your throat tight. The brunette pilot’s eyes shoot towards you, his eyes reflecting a look of surprise.

In all of the years that you had known him, he has always been Maverick to you, maybe even Mav on the rare occasion, but never Pete. That had been your way of distancing yourself from him, the man who your fiancé so fondly referred to as his wingman. It was hard to look at Maverick as a friend and at the same time, your fiancé’s lover.

“Pete, take him home, would you?” You ask, finally able to get your words out again.

Maybe he’s not sure if he’s hearing you correctly or he’s just genuinely confused, but Maverick tilts his head, his green eyes lit with confusion. “I don’t—”

Tom’s eyebrows furrow, mimicking an expression similar to his wingman’s when you slip off the engagement ring on your finger and enclose it in his palm. “(Y/n), what are you doing?”

With your heart in your throat, you engulf Tom in a hug. From a combination of him not expecting it and his considerably lighter frame, he has to shuffle a few steps back to accommodate for your sudden weight. Once recovered, his arms tighten around you. The weight of his embrace is overwhelmingly familiar, and it doesn’t hit you until now how much you’re going to miss it. You snuggle your face into the crook of his neck and breathe him in like how you used to when you first started dating.

You hear him struggling to swallow, but eventually he finds his voice. “I would have married you,” he says, his voice sounding full of regret. What he means is, even if it wasn’t exactly what he wanted, even though he wished things could have been different, he would have still walked down the isle and said ‘I love you’ and meant it. He would have loved you regardless.

Tears streaming down your cheeks, you pull away just enough to see his face. “I know, Tom. I know you would’ve.”

And as much as it breaks you to release him, you step away from him for one final goodbye. Turning towards the man standing a few feet away, you open your arms for him, crushing Maverick in an embrace. “Take care of him, okay?” you manage, your words muffled by the leather of his bomber jacket.

“Of course ,” he promises.

“I know you will. You always have.”

——

Six months later, you get a phone call from Maverick. Tom had passed in his sleep last night. The call was brief, Maverick could barley get his words out, but he just wanted to let you know before the navy contacted you. They do around noon that day and you help make arrangements for the funeral.

With Tom being an admiral, they make it into a whole production, something he would have hated but secretly been proud of. It a very emotional day, hearing the fighter jets fly by and seeing all of yours and Tom’s friends.

You intend to slip in and out, but as you’re leaving, Maverick catches your eye in all of the chaos. It’s good to see him. He looks to be holding up okay despite the situation. There’s a gold band on his ring finger that wasn’t there before. The sight tugs at your heart a bit because you want to know how long they got to be married, if they went to the courthouse or if they had a ceremony on the beach like Tom had always wanted.

That’s the thing about love.

Even if it wasn’t you and Tom in the end, you still loved him, probably always will love him.

And that was fine.

All the love you had to give was his to keep anyways.

#iceman x maverick #iceman x reader #icemav #tom iceman kazansky #top gun iceman #icemav x reader #topgun maverick #pete maverick mitchell #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #top gun fic #top gun 1986 #angst

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icemankazansky · 6 months

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icemav and a teachers au for the 3 sentences things?

Thanks for playing!

This one ran waaaaay over.

Ice is grading lit reviews and doesn’t even look up when Maverick comes in. He doesn’t need to see him to scold him.

“You missed your office hours again,” Ice says, red penning the shit out of some poor student’s paper. “I’m going to start charging you for every one of your students I have to interact with. I am not your secretary. In fact, the department has a secretary. His name is Jeremy. You passed his desk on the way in.”

Maverick dumps his bag at his own desk, then slides right over to Ice’s, taking a seat on the desktop like Ice isn’t using it. Ice doesn’t so much as look up at him over the lenses of his reading glasses. He keeps grading, but his mouth is pinched, either showing annoyance or hiding amusement. Maverick will humor him, pretend he doesn’t know it’s the latter.

“You don’t want to know why I missed my office hours?” Maverick prods him.

“I don’t care, Mitchell. Once again: I am not your secretary, social or otherwise.”

For a moment, Maverick watches Ice work. Not for the first time, he considers conducting a proper experiment on how much more aggressively Ice grades when he’s pretending to ignore Maverick. It would be nice to have the numbers to rub in Ice’s face, but the effects on the physics department’s grade curve would have to be explained to the dean.

“I was standing in line at the box office,” Maverick says.

Maverick pulls his surprise out of his jacket pocket and tosses it onto the paper Ice is grading. For a moment, Ice is still. Finally, he picks the tickets up, looks at them for a moment, and then looks up at Maverick, sliding his readers up to rest on top of his head the way people do with their sunglasses. A slight blush colors his cheeks, and he can’t keep a rein on his smile.

“You’re going to take me to the ballet, Mitchell?”

Maverick shrugs. “I hear it’s romantic or something. Someone told me the company is coming from Russia, so they’re, like, legit.”

Ice smirks. “Someone, huh?” He schools his expression as best he can, but no one can read Ice like Maverick, and he’s as good as beaming behind the frosty veneer. “I’m not easy. I like to be invited on dates, Maverick.”

Maverick takes his hand. Kisses his knuckles, enjoying the way Ice flushes, looks into his eyes. “Professor Kazansky—Ice, darling—will you do me the honor of accompanying me to the ballet?”

“I will,” Ice says, and leans up to kiss him.

“You can schedule it with my secretary,” Ice whispers between kisses. “His name’s Jeremy; you passed him on the way in—”

Maverick bites him, Ice laughs; they stop talking, mouths otherwise occupied for the foreseeable future.

#asks answered #fic memes #top gun fanfiction #icemav #my writing

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oathkeeperoxas · 8 months

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TOP GUN / Icemav fic recs part 5

Good morning aviators, this is your Captain speaking - and I bring you more icemav fic recs to enjoy 💖

Rec list 1 here

Rec list 2 here

Rec list 3 here

Rec list 4 here

Bodies in Motion by @elwenyere

It takes Maverick a while to notice Ice is always moving.

As always, Elwen has hit it out of the park with a character and relationship study that says so much in so little, and also happens to be very hot too.

all the waves and the tides by Cristinuke

After a summer's day of playing dogfight football with the dagger squad, Ice and Mav come home to take a bath, relax, and continue their teasing conversation.

Slice of life fic and domestic fluff is just everything that I ever want, and this fic delivers in spades. Old man loving is written so perfectly as well 💖

Kissed By The Sun by @wordsonamission

After the volleyball game, Maverick is left with a nasty sunburn across his shoulders. He tries to ignore it until it fades, but the pain of the burn is starting to get to him. The guys at Top Gun give him a rough time about leaving the game early to meet up with Charlie but Ice notices that the source of Maverick's frustration isn't so much his failed dated as the tender state of his skin. Ice lets Maverick borrow a bottle of aloe and is even nice enough to help him apply it where Maverick can't reach . . . alternatively: Fellas, is it gay to smear aloe on your crush's body in the locker room after hours while making intense eye contact in the mirror?

The lengths gone to excuse slathering aloe all over your crush in this are simply epic. Men will use any reason to touch each other. Fic is well written and you can feel the summer heat radiating from it!

smoke signals by @qin-ling

Maverick figures it out on the Enterprise, sweat-soaked and high on adrenaline. Their skin brushes and it's fire in his veins, like sunlight, like a beacon in the night, and every neon sign points to— Iceman figures it out much earlier than that. Or; Maverick and Iceman are soulmates. They work it out.

Soulmate AUs in this fandom are always so crunchy, and this one does NOT disappoint! Very hot, emotionally fulfilling with excellent writing!

Bleed Out by @betanoiz

As soon as they're back from the mission Maverick goes to the hospital where Iceman is still in a coma. Things with Bradley are better, almost good, so the only thing left on his mind is the man fighting for his life - post-canon icemav looking at their history and the bits they've missed

aaaaughhhh angst my beloved... This is written with so much yearning and love and goes straight to the heart 🥺

everything's all by the way by Cristinuke

Ice and Mav have an enlightening conversation after Ice's divorce goes through.

Exes to friends to lovers is the best configuration of icemav, you can't change my mind. Very glad to have found this fic, which does the trope excellently!

twenty dollars verse by alecjbi

"Alright, the bet is $20. You have to have carnal knowledge-- of a lady this time-- on the premises." This is the story of the other time.

The back and forth between Mav and Ice here is great - love the backstory for Ice that the author crafted, and how it plays into the icemav relationship and how they approach their relationship.

your fingerprints on my skin by @saengak

Everyone calls them soulmarks—the flush of peachy red that appears on your skin whenever your soulmate touches you. It's supposed to be romantic, how the evidence of your soulmate's little affections linger. The brush of their hand. A kiss. "Don’t touch me," Ice had snapped in his face, just before the soulmark had painted itself on Pete’s skin.

Another soulmate AU, we are truly eating well. While it takes a while to get there, the end result is very worth it - and the banter and teasing at the end is so very good.

This One's For You! by ReapersOrchid

The other boys started to laugh, Slider almost choking on his spit in the process, while Ice just facepalmed slowly, hiding his face in his hands. "Oh, my god...." "Are you sure that this is the one you want, Ice?" Asked Sundown and laughed. "Unfortunately.....yes."

Short and sweet and cute, love this for Ice and Mav XD

A Shared Cup by @susiecarter

It was only a training exercise. It was only supposed to be a training exercise.

This author makes me insane I swear - this fic is so excellent, with so much ground covered in the rivals to lovers, the emotions are so thick and well earned, and the set up and worldbuilding is amazing too. Highly recommend!!

#icemav #top gun #fic recs #needed to do this to clear out my work history augh trying to complete my comment bingo and sort through everything #but there is simply. so many fics. so so many. this ship truly popped off I love that for us #rec list #maverick #iceman #tg

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topgunreacts · 8 months

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Principles of Aviation

An IceMav omegaverse tale

Chapter One Snippet

The call from destiny came on a Tuesday morning. Its arrival was not terribly early, but Maverick had been out bar hopping well into the witching hour, so seven AM might just as well have been half past midnight. Maverick rolled over carefully so as not to disturb the bed’s other occupant, and picked up the phone. He was midway through a groggy greeting when the voice on the other end of the line interrupted him.

“Mitchell,” a man barked. “We’ve found you a match. You’re to report to the Pheromonal Analysis and Pair Bonding Allocation Center in one hour. Bring your rut prescriptions.”

The voice was stern. Mildly annoyed. And quite familiar to Maverick’s ears. Captain Anderson didn’t make a habit of leaving his hoity-toity office to visit TOPGUN’s facilities across the station, but whenever he did, he always made time to hound his least favorite naval aviator regarding said aviator’s unacceptable marital status. Last year, in a moment of deceitful brilliance, Maverick had managed to get the brass off of his back—for good, he’d thought. It was a good story, with a leading lady worthy of the starring role. But the fact that Anderson had summoned Maverick to the fun police directly from home could only mean that the jig was up.

“Yes, sir,” Maverick said.

Click. The line went dead. Groaning, Maverick hung up the phone and rolled back over until he was on his back again, glaring up at the slowly rotating ceiling fan.

“It was nice while it lasted,” said a sleepy, feminine voice to Maverick’s left. The mattress dipped as Charlie turned to her side and propped up her upper body on one elbow. She’d been warning Maverick about this very phone call for months.

“I think we have to see other people,” Maverick said. “They know we’re not going to breed.”

Charlie gave him an affectionate smile. “Maverick, anyone with a functioning nose could tell we’ve never had sex with one another. Did you really think this would work?”

“I hoped it would.”

Charlie gestured towards the phone with her chin. “So, is PAPBAC having you meet another female today?”

“A male,” Maverick corrected.

“Really.” Charlie raised her eyebrows, thought for a moment, and then frowned. “Maverick, you didn’t—”

“Tell them I was gay to buy more time? Yes. Yes, I did.” Swinging his legs over the edge of the mattress, Maverick sat up. The five drinks lingering in his body in the form of nausea protested, but Maverick brushed them aside. “I really, actually thought to myself, ‘Hey, Mitchell, you know what would make the Navy stop pressuring you to do the mommy-daddy dance to produce more alpha male pilots? Telling them you’re gay.’ And I did not for one moment imagine that they would simply switch tracks from straight to otherwise and find me some prince charming in heat who needs my dick to calm him down so he can fly straight.”

“Well, of course they did. You’re famous now,” Charlie said. “Maybe if you’d done this before you finished TOPGUN, you’d have gotten away with it. They seemed eager to let your father’s line die out back then, anyway. But the Layton changed everything. It proved to the Navy that you’ve got pheromonal and genetic potential. They’re not going to let you fly under the radar anymore.”

Grumbling under his breath, Maverick wiggled out of his underwear, wadded them up, and threw the ratty ball towards the laundry basket in the corner. Miss. “Why not?”

“Because everyone’s eyes are on you,” Charlie said, slowly edging towards the warm spot Maverick’s body had left behind. “And they see an intelligent, talented young man whose recklessness needs to be tamed if he’s going to advance his career. They want to see you steady. Stable. If you aren’t going to breed, then maintaining a long-term relationship with a male omega is perfect for that. It forces you to settle down, and ensures he will, too.”

“But why push this so hard right now, all of a sudden?”

Charlie settled into Maverick’s side of the mattress and shrugged. “Maybe this was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Or maybe that male they matched you with needs immediate attention.”

“Of course he does,” Maverick muttered darkly. “Of course my life doesn’t matter as much as his.”

Swiping a hand over his face, Maverick stood and made his way naked to the bathroom. Charlie didn’t care. She’d seen it all before, and hadn’t been interested.

“Don’t take your medication,” Charlie called to him. Like Maverick, she wasn’t a morning person, and would remain in bed until the last minute. She even showered at night to sleep in as late as possible. “The first thing they’ll have you do is quit, cold turkey. You might as well get a head start.”

#top gun #icemav #writing #top gun fanfiction #iceman kazansky #maverick mitchell #principles of aviation #alternate intro post #less metadata more Substance

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zaskiaz · 1 year

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sneak 👏 peek 👏 friday 👏

haven’t written much this week because i was catching up on stranger things and steddie had me in a chokehold. i’m not a big fan of the series but it’s so refreshing to read new fics in a new fandom, i had missed that feeling (also love how the fandom collectively agreed to ignore the s04 finale, bc it was bullshit, and instead started their own fix-it fanfics, as it should be lol). anyway, here we go c:

top gun | icemav | wip (birthday oneshot)

—

He's zipping up his khakis when the phone rings. Maverick frowns. It's ass o’clock in the morning, and he definitely isn’t expecting anyone to call at this hour. He crosses the distance to the wall where the phone hangs and picks up.

“Mitchell speaking.”

“Uncle Mav!” it’s a whisper-shout, and it lights up every fiber in Maverick’s body.

“Hey, little guy! What are you doing up?”

“It’s your birthday, Uncle Mav! I wanted to be the first to wish you a happy birthday, of course!”

Maverick snorts. “Of course.”

“It’s today, right? Daddy said it was, and Ms Riley helped me mark it in my calendar. Ms Riley is my new teacher, by the way! She’s sub– subti– she’s teaching us while Mrs Sophie is on leave! Did you know she’s having a baby? She said it could be born any day now, that’s why she’s gonna stay home and rest! I was sad at first, because I really like art classes with Mrs Sophie, but I guess Ms Riley is cool too. She helped me make your present, did you know?”

Maverick’s grinning from ear to ear. He fucking loves the kid.

#top gun #icemav #pete maverick mitchell #bradley rooster bradshaw #sneak peek friday #i had a shit birthday so of course my response is to write a fic where i can project my feelings #but don’t worry #i won’t make mav have a shit bday #my boy deserves the best things #which means a hot boyfriend and an adorable pseudo nephew #fanfic #writing #zas writes

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specialbrewbutterbeer · 2 years

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Unorthodox (PART II) (Robert 'Bob' Floyd x Kazansky!Reader)(+ IceMav)

PART 1 HERE

Word Count: 9812

TW: Parental death/funerals, mentions of a marriage of convenience, institutional homophobia, alcohol consumption, possibly swearing, NSFW CONTENT AT THE END (for once I decided to actually go graphic so just be warned, may or may not be badly written, unsure) There is lots of fluff and lots of angst here- some based on my own experiences.

AN: Enough people wanted a part two that I wrote one. Idk how it got this long, but I really went in for the IceMav stuff and I couldn't help but make it super sweet with them. It just felt right. Writing this ended up in me reading through the entire F-14 Tomcat's flight operations manual and spending an hour picking music because I wanted to do another one with a bit of a diegetic music thing going on. So...

Enjoy! (Requests are open, feedback and replies are really needed! I wanna know what you guys think of what I write! I adored reading what you thought of Pt.I, special shoutout to @teacactusworld and @cowboybarbie cos I loved reading what they thought!)

REQUESTS (OPEN)

MASTERLIST

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

It didn't take long. She was glad about that, she hoped it meant less pain and stuffering if it just happened quick. Just a couple days after Pete had visited.

Bob had texted her that same night after he dropped her home- he couldn't have waited if he'd tried. She felt like a giddy teenager getting the message. She'd not stopped talking to him since- for three days, flirting and talking and slowly pulling details from eachother.

Until now. Now she hadn't thought about her phone once, or work or anytime outside of their home.

She woke up in the morning and her father wasn't at breakfast.

She didn't say anything, just shared a look with her Mom over the heads of her younger siblings.

She didn't sit in her usual place, she just felt herself go pale. She knew it was coming, but it still hurt.

She waited until she was out of the kitchen to break into a sprint down the hall. The study door was locked- empty then. She half lept up the stairs to stand in the hall and see, through her parents bedroom door, her Papa laying in bed.

This was a man who had gotten up at 5am everyday since he joined the Naval Academy at 17.

It was now nearly 10.

She knocked on the door and he looked up. He didn't smile. How could he smile at his daughter when her face was smothered in fear and pale shock?

"Baby girl?" He coughed out the words, as fried and cracking as they were now.

"Papa." She spoke and walked in. She felt like a little kid and it was awful.

Immediately she wanted to call Pete- tell him to drop everything and get here. But her Dad didn't want that, she knew. He never wanted anyone to see him like that- if he could have kept all of them away, he would have. But especially not Pete.

She sat at the edge of her bed and images of her Dad when she was little- when he seemed barely 20 something, tall, strong and muscular- looking young enough to be her brother, not her Dad- flashed before her.

He was 27 when she was born. He met Sarah, had (y/n) and they married in the space of year. Just after TopGun.

He had told her before, that he'd always wanted kids. That she was his absolute dream.

It wasn't long after she was born that he started rapidly climbing the ranks- he wanted more kids, for sure, but her Mom was already struggling to cope with moving all round the country with a newborn, so they waited a few years.

So she was a Daddy's girl. She was Pete's girl too- in those years he was around increasingly.

No matter where they were, Pete would turn up. He'd be in the house- she remembered being a toddler, one of her earliest memories, was of her Dad and Pete.

When she thought back on it, she remembered going to see him too- her Dad and her would drive, or fly, cross country, just the two of them, to visit Pete. Those were good memories, he was a good Dad. He was patient and kind, he lived for his kids.

He rarely missed a parent teacher conference, a recital, a game. He wanted, needed to be there for it. He did whatever he could to be there. No matter how much of his own down time he'd miss, how much he'd have to catch up on, how far he'd have to travel for something that was really and ultimately trivial- he did it. He had to.

She remembered those early years, with just them- fondly. When her Dad walked around the house in boxer shorts and dog tags, a piece of toast in his hand and her, tucked under the other arm, in a diaper, giggling.

She remembered hazily those days, just before school age. She remembered her Dad, and Pete. Back then, she was either with her Dad or her Mom. Not both. She knew they'd been through a patch- sorta seperated for a while. That must have been then.

Pete seemed to always be around then.

Her Dad and Pete practically lived together- when they weren't working overseas. She got handed off from one parent to the other at airports and at the front door of the house as they swapped in and out.

Him and Pete- young men who didn't look like they should have been in charge of a kid, and yet they managed it in their own 'bachelorish' way.

Pete was good with kids because he could make them laugh and they liked him- he played a bit rough but always kissed grazed knees better and snuck a few M&Ms or some other candy to her behind his back when Tom wasn't looking. It only took Pete to ask once (or occasionally bribe) to get the kids to do anything. He always knew how to talk to them.

Tom was the affectionate, soppy Dad - he'd chase her round the house and catch her in a flurry of tickles and kisses as she squeaked and laughed. He'd sit with her in his lap, both with Tootsie pops in their mouths, on the floor and watch cartoons. He demanded a kiss on the cheek everytime his little girl left his side. He learned how to do her hair, and obliged when she wanted to but butterfly hairclips in his.

She'd sit on Pete's knee as he sat on the counter in the kitchen and her Dad cooked their meals. It was Pete who picked her up from preschool when Tom couldn't. They'd take turns taking care of her when she woke in the night- rocking the little girl back to sleep or sitting with her until she did by herself. They all three had to brush their teeth together at night or she would kick up a fuss and refuse to do it. If Pete was getting her dressed for preschool in the morning, he'd let her pick what she wanted to wear, and he'd carry her downstairs (she's a clumsy Princess and Pete, as rough and tumble as he is, refused to let her just figure out that you can't run down the stairs at 60mph and expect not to fall, on her own, or just hold her hand or something like Tom did. She was too precious for that) to the kitchen to present her to her Dad in the most insane outfits. Tom always dressed her smartly and neatly and always pressed her clothes with as much care as he would press and tidy his own dress uniform. It was Pete who was the panicky one- if she got so much as a paper cut his heart would absolutely stop and if she cried over it; it was all just over. He hadn't felt the anxiety and adrenaline like that ever- even when Bradley was a baby (but that's because Carole and Nick were such natural parents and so deeply calm). Tom was just a pick up and carry on type- he had figured out the whole 'if you don't react like it's a big deal, they won't either' thing. He always just brushed her down and kept going- held her hand and fixed it. He was a fixer.

The longest she stayed with her Dad was a month and half- before he was shipped out again. The agreement with Sarah was that she would go and stay with her own mother whilst Tom was home, he'd look after (Y/n), and the rest of the time, she'd be back in the house with the baby.

(Y/n) remembered vividly being in her Mother's arms to say goodbye to her Papa and Pete, surrounded by all the other Pilots' wives and kids and families. She'd sobbed and screamed and reached out for them. She was too young to understand what was going on or why, she just knew her Papa was leaving her behind and she didn't want him to go. So she clung on to her mother and cried her eyes out.

It was a chaotic time really- confusing and stressful for all of them, though it wasn't all bad, the good times were some of the best.

That didn't last long though. Whatever had made her parents split, they resolved. She'd never dug deep into that issue to find out why they'd split. She guessed the stress of a new baby and her Dad being there and then not being there all the time.

Over the years, Pete was still highly prominent in her life, but not as he had been in those months. Her parents became a force to be reckoned with, a proper team and when she looked at them: there was a deep love there, deep respect and admiration.

And now after all these years, more kids, more chaos and trouble and good and bad. Here was her beloved Papa, a man who she ate froot loops with at their dining table before her first day of school- her in pigtails and a little pink pair of corduroy dungarees and him (as he always seemed to be as a young dad) shirtless- both grinning from ear to ear and laughing at nothing because she was just so excited; a man who consoled her when her own marriage (which she had done on a whim and without telling anyone) broke down after barely a month; a man who made beards out of bubble bath; who for the love of God flew fighter jets for near enough 25 years! A man she wanted to walk her down the isle and be the first to hold his grandchildren. She'd always thought that wasn't much to ask but here he was. And she could do nothing but get used to the idea that he wasn't going to get to do that.

Here he was. In bed, weak, frail and tired. He wasn't even old yet. He wasn't even mandatory retirement age yet.

She held his hand and said nothing. They both knew what this signalled. They both knew how rapid it would be now.

What the fuck could she say? What was she meant to say to her perfect Father as he lay there fading away? She'd known this was coming but it still hurt. She couldn't have even tried to prepare the words to tell him. She just wanted to tell him she loved him. Because she did and that seemed the most important thing. She loved him and was proud of him- his work, his life, his achievements. She was astounded by him, respected him and adored him like she'd never adore anyone else. She didn't know how he could be such a good Dad and a fighter pilot and then Admiral and never ever fail at either job. He'd never let her down. Not until now.

She wanted to be so angry that she was being left behind, that his body could give up on him like this when he was such a sharp mind, when he was so clever and he'd always eaten right and stayed fit. She wanted to slap him round the face and tell him he was a fucking idiot, of course he wasn't dying, just get up and work like normal and pretend it all wasn't real. But it was. And it was unfair to be angry, not now. She knew she had all the time in the world to be angry later. But now she just wanted her Papa. In whatever form he was in.

Through the day she sat with him. They talked and her siblings did the same, even her eldest brother, who was 3rd year of college age now, curled up into his sister as they sat with their Dad. She put her arms around him and cradled him like when they were small, and they held their Dad's hand.

Everyone knew Tom Kazansky didn't have favourites. He was highly professional and moral. He didn't have favourite children and he loved them all equally. If anything happened to any of them he'd rather have flung himself in front of a train or off a twenty story building than just let it. Yet- her- his first born. How could he not favour her somehow. When she wasn't just his baby girl, when he was sure he'd never felt love until he'd seen her, when she had been there for so long that he knew he'd had no life before her, when she had been their baby girl.

In the evening he seemed dazed, very tired and less sure of what was happening around him. She expected it was a mixture of things, but mostly from the painkillers he was being given.

By the morning he was just confused, fidgety- he'd always been a fidget but this was an anxious fidget. Her Mom had been up with him all night, as he slept and woke in fits and starts. He just wasn't sure quite of where he was, he knew he was in his own bed- but he didn't seem to recognise it, he knew everyone's name but not necessarily who they were to him. Not all the time. He just- he was hazy on things and that was hard when just a day or two before he was as sharp and witty as ever. That was the one thingthing that'd he'd always had through this illness- his mind. And now at the last second it was slipping away from him.

That afternoon, as she sat with him, (y/n) noticed him glancing toward the side of the room. It was the first time they'd been alone- her Mom was taking care of her other kids and the siblings were scattered around the house- some of them too nervous to sit for too long with their Dad, others too distraught.

"What you looking at?" She asked softly.

"Is (y/n)- is she in the crib?" He asked in reply as he moved his head to see, his voice weak and crackled. He seemed to still understand he was ill and couldn't get up.

(Y/n) looked over to the spot where he was staring.

"Did Pete take her downstairs?" He asked again and looked at her.

"Yeah, he did." She nodded. He nodded back.

"I really love them. I love em both." He spoke. "They're the loves of my life, Sarah." In his haze she looked exactly like her mother and that's who he believed he was talking to. He closed his eyes again.

She understood then- lots of things.

She looked up and saw her Mom in the doorway.

They shared a look and her Mom nodded.

"I know, Tommy. It's alright." She spoke as she sat by her husband with a somber smile.

By the third morning he was gone.

It was like he'd waited for everyone to be asleep. It was the kind of thing he would do.

(Y/n) stayed quite calm throughout that day. She was suddenly quite numb to it all.

She and her mother worked through everything they had to- he was taken away to be prepared for the funeral, people were notified, they all consoled eachother.

Eventually it was just her and her Mom sat in the kitchen. Each of them had poured out a glass of good whisky (on the rocks) to drink in their husband and father's honour.

"Mom?" (Y/n) spoke quietly, resting her head on her shoulder.

"Yes baby?" She answered, taking a deep breath.

"Papa..." She began to speak and had to pause to get the courage to continue the question. "Him- and Pete?" She stopped and her mother needed no further prompt.

"Your Dad and Pete, baby-" Her Mom spoke gently. "They were in love." She looked at her daughter. "I didn't know it when we met, when we had you- even when we got married." She shook her head but a smile lay on her lips. "But Pete was there before me, he was there with me, and he would have been there after me."

"How did you-" (y/n) started to ask, but when she thought about it- it couldn't have been more obvious.

"I just knew it. And he admitted it when I finally asked." Sarah spoke.

Then the first tears slipped down (y/n)'s face. She quickly raised a hand to her eyes and wiped them away.

"We'd been married just over a year, and I felt so stupid" The older woman chuckled and hugged her daughter close. "But he wasn't cold- he never denied me anything, he was perfect- except for that the love he had for me wasn't what he and Pete had and I could see that." (Y/n) just nodded.

"I couldn't just have the marriage annulled- the grounds for that would have had your father and maybe even Pete dishonourably discharged. I was angry but I couldn't do that- that was too wrong. We didn't really have the money to divorce- so we just-"

"Split?"

"Mhm- I stayed with my Mama at home when your Dad wasn't away and when he was I stayed at the house. It meant you didn't have to travel so much and we didn't have to see eachother. And- before I left, I told him, 'Tommy- You gotta understand I'm not making you choose and I'm not angry that you love him. I know you love him, and that's why you gotta be with him, I'm angry because you did it behind my back, you couldn't just say it."

"What happened?"

"Well- that time was probably the closest they had to being a proper couple. You know how Pete is when he flies, the trouble he gets- your Dad bailed him out but he ended up overseas and that was what sealed it." Sarah sighed. "What they wanted they weren't gonna get- not back then. The Navy- it wouldn't have tolerated that relationship. They wouldn't have tolerated it for an Admiral especially, which, of course, your Papa became. Maybe if it were now- if things were different-" Sarah shook her head. "It was sad- I was still angry but we decided not to go it alone. We were still friends, and I realised that he could love me too. I knew it wasn't the same, but we both got what we wanted this way. We were best friends and that's all we needed. Pete was always going go be there- and every time he visited your Dad would ask me if I was okay with it. He'd go and sleep with him in the spare room, and he'd ask then too- and how could I say no? I wasn't spiteful, how could I not recognise that your Dad had a big enough heart to love his family and Pete and that he couldn't really be happy without him?" Sarah smiled. "I know most people would think that's crazy- but we made it work. We couldn't have been happier, all of us." She looked at her daughter, watched as her eyes sparkled with thought and greif and as she began to feel all mixed up.

"Why didn't we know?" She asked after a moment. "What- was he ashamed? Or?"

"No- he wasn't at all. Papa was confident and stubborn- you know that." Sarah laughed a little and wiped another tear from her daughter's face. "We just wanted everything to line up for you kids. You kids knew what everyone else knew, that your father and I loved eachother very much and that your father and Pete loved eachother very much. The nature of those relationships, everything else, didn't really matter. It wasn't a lie. I suppose we just didn't want to confuse you- and we didn't want anyone to know. You know what kids are like- they blab." She laughed again.

(Y/n) nodded. It felt like all the pieces were falling into place. But now her heart was heavier and ached harder for Pete. She also greived that she could have known her father better- understood him better maybe. And yet, equally, she was glad that, though maybe unusual, they'd stumbled across a way of loving that worked, accommodated the world they lived in, the work they did and the others relationships in their lives. She supposed it didn't surprise her. She was happy that they had been happy.

She was sure she loved her Pete even more than she ever had before- to know that he brought so much happiness and love to the man she adored, whom she idolised and had always been her best friend. It was like some relief washed over her.

The first time she broke down in tears was after the funeral. She nearly broke when the same day that he'd passed, the Navy sent a couple people to retrieve all the confidential paperwork and files in her Dad's office- they apologized profusely and said they'd have waited if they could have, but he had so much sensitive information on active projects and missions that they couldn't risk it. To give them credit, they were very careful to be tidy and sensitive to personal possessions and files- which they backed up onto two harddrives and gave to Sarah- deleting it off of the PC they were taking away, to be returned once they'd recovered everything they needed and wiped it. But watching all of these things leave the house was like taking away pieces of a man who they already felt they had so little left of. But still- it wasn't till after the funeral.

It had been lovely. The weather was warm, and bright. It was attended by many and it was warming to see the pilots her Dad had flown with, mentored, admired, be there for him one last time.

She looked across at Pete. She hadn't seen him so brushed up for a long time- and like her, he was remarkably calm.

When all the pomp and ceremony was done, and finally it was all over- she half flung herself at him.

She said nothing, and he didn't care that she would crumple his uniform. He just wrapped his arms around her and closed his eyes as she sobbed into him. She held on so tight- fistfuls of fabric which tugged everytime she breathed. He didn't care. He felt the same. As people passed by them, trying not look at the picture of greif carved in front of them, neither of them cared.

Pete kissed the top of her head and rested his cheek there. She felt him tense and hold his breath as he tried to hold together, and then shake as tears finally broke the surface.

Sarah ushered her other children away as the gathered party moved slowly and somberly through the cemetery in the low sun and toward the transport. Some of them talked amongst themselves, some of them stayed silent. There were tears and some shared happy memories with eachother. But (y/n) could only crumble in Pete's arms, and he realised that there were only three people in his adult life now he'd cried in front of. Goose, Ice and his baby girl.

She was his. There was no doubt. For all her life he had been there and never was he going to leave. He'd watched her grow up- he'd been her other Dad. He supposed he'd never thought of himself that way- but she sure had. She was theirs. She understood that now. She understood why her Dad and her and Pete had always seemed a natural family- why he was so present and why, her mostly, but not just her, all of her silblings too, responded to him. Why did he fit so well into that role.

Because he was supposed to be there.

And now they were all missing a great big chunk of their lives.

She pulled away for a moment.

"Pete?" She whispered and looked up at him with a matching tear stained face. She thought she'd be able to speak a bit louder but what came out was meek and uncharacteristically unsure.

He looked back at her and saw the little girl he recognised, but torn up to ribbons behind those big pretty eyes of hers.

"Papa loved you." She spoke with a crack in her voice and all choked up.

Pete nodded.

"I know." He whispered as he pulled her back into him, enveloping her in his arms. "He told me plenty." She just nodded and her sobs became audible choked cries. "I loved him too. More than anything." He continued. "More than Penny, more than flying- nearly as much as I love Bradley and you, sweetheart." How his voice was so soothing even when throttled by tears and angst she didn't know. It always had been to her.

She held on tighter and tighter, feeling like she was going to go lightheaded with how few breaths she could take through her sobbing, and Pete continued now to allow tears to pour down his face.

It took a good while for them both to soothe. But it was a needed release of emotion that neither of them had had the chance for yet.

Finally (y/n) stood back and almost went to just scream, but she couldn't. She just looked up to the clear, cloudless sky, still clinging onto her Godfather's sleeve like he was going to drift away or try and leave her. Nothing would have taken that man away then.

She breathed and Pete held her hand, and she felt his shake.

"It's not fair." She spoke.

"No." He tensed his jaw and ground his teeth. "Not at all." He spoke, wiping the tears from his cheek.

She looked back at him, her lips pressed into a thin line. She sniffled and paused for a second before then looking down the slope.

Pete put his arm around her shoulder and she leant into him. Slowly they walked toward the others as they climbed into various modes of transportation.

The venue for the wake was suited to that expected of an Admiral- it was the bar room of an upmarket hotel in town, and it was a weirdly nice atmosphere, a few 80s tunes playing above the chatter.

No-one expected it to be as nice as that- but there was something therapeutic about being surrounded by people who were there because they had good memories and great respect for someone she loved.

The place was filled, even more people than could make it to the service had arrived for the wake, and everyone had something nice to say. There was no pity or tears (apart from her Mom, who had got talking to Ron Kerner, aka Slider, about something or other they'd gotten up to in the Academy- and they'd laughed so hard she'd cried) which was nice. There were smiles and fondness and everyone knew it had to be that way because if you'd met the man once, you knew that Kazansky didn't require pity and though he was tactful and serious at work, the moment he was off duty, he had something sly and witty to say, something to joke about. He had a kiddy sense of humour.

God, it was nice. It was soothing and relaxing and (Y/n) and Pete were the last to walk into the place with it's plush carpet and moulded wood panels and sparkling light fixtures. It was a celebration of his life, not an occasion just to miss him.

"Right- let's get you a drink, then we'll get you talking." Pete smiled and held out his arm, which (y/n) nodded to and hooked hers through.

They leant on the bar and eventually ended up with drinks in hand. In the interim plenty of people approached and shook her hand and when she smiled- sensed it was genuine and she allowed them to tell her what a wonderful man her father was and how they knew him and such. She thought she might have disliked that, but she found herself very proud of how many people clearly held her father very dear and enjoyed his company or were simply honoured to have worked with him. Not a single person was there purely for duty or obligation. (And she and her mother over the following days would receive many messaged of regret that various people couldn't attend.)

(Y/n) turned against the bar and leant back, scanning the room. Her eyes were less red now and her cheeks less stained.

To one side of the room she saw Pete's students, all dressed to the nines in their dress uniforms. All on best behaviour but fairly relaxed and talking amongst eachother.

She was proud of them too. They looked so smart, and everyone knew they were the best of the best. They were there because there her Dad's pilots. He,'d known each one of them inside and out, their skills, flaws and talents just from paperwork and crossed wires. He picked those men and women as the best of the best and believed in them.

She smiled as she watched them.

Over the past days she'd all but forgotten Lieutenant Floyd. She'd thought lots about him- partially as an escape and partially because she already knew how much she liked him and she didn't like to think that she'd not get to bring him home to her Dad.

It was a weird time to be thinking about a romance, and maybe it was just the emotionally charged atmosphere but she couldn't help it.

She let her gaze stop at him without thinking, and was only shaken out of it when he looked back at her.

She held it for a moment before fully realising what she was doing and where she was, she felt her cheeks flush with heat and looked away.

Pete laughed, his eyes darting between the pair.

(Y/n) put a hand to her face and felt the frankly searing heat of her cheeks, she smiled sheepishly and took a deep swig of her drink.

"You're that taken by him, huh?" Pete asked. She looked to him and didn't need to say anything. It took him by surprise, the look he saw in her eyes.

"Wow-" He exclaimed but under his breath, in a sort of whisper, taken aback by it. "You really are..."

"Pete!" She spoke in a hushed tone, with an embarrassed laugh. "I've been out with him once- I barely know him."

"Yeah. You can change that-" Pete encouraged with a grin.

"Oh my god-" She laughed, almost tempted.

"What's this?" A voice came from beside her. She turned and found her Mom on her other side of her.

"How are you, baby?" She asked, placing her hands on her daughters shoulders in that motherly, directorial way that Mom's do, and kissed her cheek.

"I'm alright Mom-" She spoke, with a little smile. "Are you-" She began, but her Mom just nodded.

"Pete?" Her Mom softened and moved to embrace the pilot, who reciprocated with a smile and a sigh.

"Sarah." He spoke, breathing her name like seeing her was a relief.

"You're- you're holding up?" She asked as he pulled away.

"(Y/n) and I are keeping eachother going, I think." He nodded and smiled, looking past Sarah and to her daughter.

"Good. I'm glad to see it." She spoke and turned to see the direction that they'd been looking as Pete turned and ordered a glass of wine from the Bartender for Sarah. "Oh-" She laughed. "Your 'non-pilot'?" She smiled.

"God- even you know?" (Y/n) wanted the ground to swallow her up.

"Of course I do- your Father always told me everything." She grinned and glanced at Pete."Well, almost always." Pete gave a breathy laugh and shook his head, handing her the glass. "Thank you-" She spoke gently before sparking back up into a perkiness. "Actually- that reminds me." She began to dig through her purse. "Just a moment my lovelies." She smiled and pulled away from the group as Pete and (y/n) watched curiously.

"Oh my god- Pete? What is she up to?" She laughed and shook her head, clinging onto his arm and resting her forehead on his shoulder to hid from the embarrassment. No matter how old she was, her parents (all three of them) would manage that.

"Lieutenant Floyd?" She spoke quietly and he turned. (Y/n) watched him turn from his conversation and answer.

"Yes Ma'am?" He spoke politely and stood up straight.

She just smiled and held something out to him.

"Thank you, Ma'am." Bob spoke, slightly unsure looking down at what he had been handed.

Sarah winked and nodded, walking away with a little laugh.

She walked past her daughter and Pete and shared a mischievous look with the pilot, which clued him in to what was going on.

Pete just laughed and shook his head once again.

She watched as he opened what looked to be a small envelope, he'd stepped away from the others for a moment.

He looked terrified as he opened it.

He looked up at (y/n) with wide eyes.

It was Rooster that first noticed his expression, and walked to him, peeking over his shoulder.

He immediately laughed, loudly, attracting the attention of his fellow classmates. He slapped Bob on the back, but he was still frozen up. The same reaction was garnered from the others as they gathered around him.

"Bobby?" She spoke, with a concerned expression. She stepped forward and slowly he began to walk across to her, weaving through the throngs of people in the middle of the room.

"Bob? What's wrong?" She gave a confused smile as he got close. He stood close to her, just inches away and looked down at the note in his hands. He pushed it into hers and watched her read it.

'Floyd,

You're goddamm lucky you're not a pilot.

Now Maverick isn't just keeping an eye on your flying.'

Underneath was her father's distinct signature and the paper bore his letter head. The handwriting was slightly shaky, but still clearly her father's.

He put her hand to her mouth, and smiled.

She looked up at him, before putting a hand on his shoulder and pulling him down as she leant up- kissing his cheek softly, and then quickly a peck on the lips for good measure- just to snap him out of his mini-trance.

His expression softened as she pulled away and he stayed stooped for a moment before straightening up. Then he seemed to breathe, and she gave a breathy laugh which Bob returned.

Pete leant around her and took the note from her hand. He read it and smirked. That was so typical. One last chance to playfully embarrass his kid, frighten the life out of one of his daughter's potential boyfriend (because of course he was a protective girl-dad) and give Sarah and Pete a good laugh. That was just like their Tommy. It was just like Ice.

Suddenly, as Bob looked down at her- he couldn't not smile at her, he realised how close they were standing, he towered over her and his heart was beating like a steam train. He couldn't bring himself to move away and her hand had trailed down from his shoulder to rest on his chest.

He looked at her, wearing a black silk slip dress, which was simple and suited the weather, and she looked beautiful in it.

"How are you doing?" He spoke, more seriously now. He wasn't entirely sure how he felt doing this at her father's wake. That felt odd- even with her taking the lead. He feared that she was just- that he might be a distraction.

"Fucking shit- my Dad just died." She smiled. He nodded.

"Yeah." He broke their gaze and his smile faded. "Makes sense."

"Makes me kinda cold, huh?" She laughed.

"Huh?" Bob looked back up at her, surprised.

"Kissing a guy I barely met? At my Dad's funeral? Some people would say that was pretty cold." She looked up at him. He didn't seem to know what to say. "But- he was 'Iceman' after all. 'Ice cold. No mistakes.'" She grinned, and suddenly Bob caught on.

"No mistakes?" He allowed himself a little smile.

She shook her head and gave a little laugh.

"Come on- come talk with me?" She asked with a little tilt of her head.

He nodded, placing his hand on the small of her back and guiding her to a quieter section of the room.

He looked great in his uniform, she couldn't help but think it. He was sweet and she was attracted to him, there was no two ways about that.

She enjoyed the featherlight touch of his fingers on her back, it almost made her twitch. Her stomach fluttered, and she glanced up at him as they moved and he placed himself between her and those he was navigating them around.

He was a gentleman, and she suddenly couldn't take her eyes off of him. A little smile graced her lips as they finally broke from the crowd.

The room had a grand staircase which lead up to a gallery, which lead in turn to the corridors to the rooms and such, and had more tables and couches than were on the periphery of the main bar floor. It was some of the only clear space, so it was where they perched, a few steps up, they sat down, her closest to the banister and him on the outer side.

From there, (y/n) looked out across the room, she saw plenty of people she recognised.

Bob watched her every move, every twitch of a finger, every tightening muscle and every dart of her eyes from someone to him. He liked how her lip curled as she thought, or saw someone that gave her a hit of nostalgia.

"You like your job?" She asked him, as she looked out, leaning back on heels of her palm, her fingers frustratingly close to brushing against him.

"Yeah- I love it. More than anything." He spoke softly and honestly.

"Mmhm-" She mused, a touch of a smile on her face as she finally turned and locked eyes with him. "My Papa did too. It's a thing with you aviators. I think you'd all stay up there forever if you could."

"Yeah-" Bob nodded and smiled. "I think so." He shifted to face her a little more. "You ever been up there?"

She smiled with a fondness and her eyes sparkled bright at the question.

"Yeah- not for a long time, and not in anything special but- My Dad took me up a couple times, Pete too. It was like nothing I've ever felt." She smiled. "Pete tried to teach me a few times, just in something small and hobbyish, but I never stuck with it and got my license. I probably should have- I enjoyed it."

Bob smiled.

"Maybe it's a good thing- My Daddy told me to stay away from pilots too." He laughed and (y/n) grinned.

"You're slicker that you make out to be, Lieutenant Floyd." She smirked, leaning just a little closer.

He chuckled and looked at her with a soft and admiring gaze.

"I doubt it." He spoke quietly, so she could scarcely hear it over the chatter of the room and the music.

(Y/n) pulled him in, though the distance between them already wasn't far, by his uniform jacket, hooking her fingers under the fabric and between the buttons and tugging gently- he complied and didn't hesitate to allow his body to move where she wanted it to be, following the pull of the fabric. There was something hungry in the kiss she gave- as her fingers stayed looped in his uniform, but now they weren't moving him, her knuckles instead pushed flat against his shirt and as he breathed in, the fabric, as well fitted as it was, constricted tight over them.

She seemed to breathe that kiss, it was hungry, but it was also calm and gentle. He indulged in it, as if it were the first and last and he'd stolen it.

"You can doubt it all you like, but actions speak louder than words, Bobby." She whispered as she pulled away for a moment, her chest heaving up and down with the adrenaline of the moment- she was terrified he'd reject it, though it was unfounded fear.

He was next to dive back in. The first kiss was hers. This was his- he found one of his hands had come to rest on her thigh, and the other was still by his side. He moved it to her hip, feeling the soft and hard contours of the flesh and bone there, through the slipping silk fabric. The other he used to steady himself, taking hold of her forearm that was hovering by her side and not holding on to him, and pulling it in to him a little, his fingertips pressing into her skin like she would disappear from his grip.

He didn't drink, but tasting the whisky on her lips was like heaven- the sweetest thing he'd ever known.

When he finally pulled himself from the kiss, she seemed entirely dazed, in a happy way. Her cheeks were flushed with heat, as were his.

She looked away, almost shy. How this man made such a confident woman this way, she didn't know, but she liked it.

She didn't care that it was almost certain that everyone in the room had noted what they were doing, and probably disapproved considering the scenario. She agreed it was strange, but the heart wanders like that. Her Father clearly didn't live his life with the opinions of others often in mind- he was considerate and wise, but confident and secure. Why shouldn't she follow that lead?

Bob seemed lost in thought for a moment, before standing, walking down a couple steps to be at rough eye level with her as she sat, and held out his hand to her.

"Would you come with me?" He asked, quietly.

(Y/n) said nothing, just took his steady hand and stood. He once again held her close into him as they moved through the people, no-one much paying attention to them.

"What are we doing?" She asked in a whisper, curious.

"I'm taking a leaf out of Captain Mitchell's book." He spoke, as the edged past people in the crowded room.

She laughed and said no more. She liked this side of the man, she sensed he didn't often show it.

Quickly they were outside, breathing the fresh air from the sea.

Bob lead her to his pick up and opened the door, in one swift movement he pulled her gently to face him and put his hand on her hips and lifted her up onto the drivers seat, facing him still. He was a fit guy, and bigger than her, so it wasn't difficult. Her heart skipped a beat as he did, she wasn't used to anything like that.

He placed his hands on her knee and thigh and looked up at her, frozen for a moment.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked, an innocent sparkle in his eye, as if what he had just done and where he had put his hands wasn't surely one of the sexiest things that happened to the young woman in her life and hadn't set her aflutter.

"Yes." She laughed at him.

He didn't hesitate to give her a quick and tender kiss, much more ferocious than he had done when they weren't alone. He pulled away with a distinct smile and didn't move as he watched her expression. She enjoyed it profusely.

"Can you grab my phone from glovebox, please?" He asked, and she took a moment to recover from the kiss before she understood what he said.

She nodded and leant back, holding onto the back of the seat for support, opening it as required, before returning to face Bob, who hadn't moved a muscle, his hands still placed strategically on her.

She handed it to him, and he gave a smile.

"You can shuffle over." He spoke gently and she nodded again, and swung her legs around, moving over to the passenger seat with relative ease. He closed the driver's door again as she did and the turned, walking a few steps along the truck and leaning back on it. He put the phone to his ear and spoke very briefly to someone over it, before climbing in and starting the engine. The radio kicked on as he did so.

They said very little as he drove, just shared little glances. He hummed along to the music, thrumming his fingers on the wheel as drove, a sweet smile layed on his lips, his heart nearly beating out of his chest. He didn't usual do shit like this, but she inspired it. She deserved this side of him- the one that bypassed the awkwardness and melted into such a deep fondness and affection.

He watched him. As she had now done so often- he was beautiful. She really thought so. She just admired him, his honey sweetness and she knew how intelligent he was.

Finally he turned off of the road, he turned through an open gate in a chainlink fence- immediately she recognised the place as a small private airport.

She looked to him, a grin on her face- still unsure of what he had planned.

He pulled up outside a hangar, and turned off the ignition. He got out and walked around to the passenger door, opening it and once again offering his hand to her. She took it, as she always would, and stepped out.

He closed the door behind her, as she walked a few steps out on the concrete, she looked up at the hangar and then to him. He let nothing on and just smiled.

"Close your eyes." He told her, his voice dreamy and smooth and she did with a giggly laugh.

She heard the sliding of the hangar door and felt his hand in hers, leading her forward.

"Okay- look." He half whispered.

She did, and her eyes adjusted to the change in lighting.

"Woah-" She exclaimed and stepped forward.

Before her was one of the old F-14s. She recognised it immediately.

"Oh my god- Like my Dad flew?" She spoke in a hush, walking up to the nose of it and placing her palm against the cool grey metal, admiring the scratches and dents still in it, presumably from it's active days.

She looked back at Bob with a little breathy laugh, stunned.

"Bobby!" She breathed his name, her eyes bright and excited. He stood back and watched her stunned expression and smiled.

"It's not just like what your Dad flew." He spoke quietly, his voice still echoing around the otherwise empty hangar.

She looked at him and her eyes set in an expression of recognition. She stepped back and walked alongside the jet, looking up at it.

Below the seam of canopy, sure enough.

"Tom 'Iceman' Kazansky, Ron 'Slider' Kerner-" She gasped. Her breath hitched as she just stared at it. "I never even knew it was here." She whispered.

"It's not been here long, just a couple years. It's part of a private collection, I met the guy who owns it a few years ago. It's not quite taking the Admiral's daughter out for a joyride, but I thought you'd like to see it. Today especially." Bob explained softly as he walked to her. "It doesn't fly at the moment, but your Dad logged over a thousand hours in these things. Most of them in this."

(Y/n) turned to him, and wrapped her arms around him.

"Thank you." She spoke softly, leaning her head on his shoulder. He returned the gesture, placing an arm around her shoulders and one on her arm, as they both looked up at the machine.

They spent another hour, circling the aircraft, noting every detail of it.

Bob knew everything about the planes he flew in, and almost everything about this one too- (Y/n) knew plenty but, hearing more was a dream. Her Dad didn't tell her much, complying with his separation of his work and domesticity.

She kicked off her heels to climb up and see inside, which she seemed to do in half a second and nearly gave Bob a heart attack as he turned to see her and she was suddenly scrambling upward.

She'd done it before, as a kid she'd been down to the base and seen these planes plenty, she had been familiar with them. She stared in, and then pulled away, searching for something that she recognised, which she found. She remembered, just about, how to open the canopy (which someone must have shown her how to do as a kid).

It took a bit of strength but she did it, she stared inside, leaning in and taking it in with complete awe.

She sighed.

"I wish he could have gone flying one last time." She spoke quietly. "He missed it. And then eventually he was too ill." She shook her head but still smiled. She turned to Bob who was stood by her, cautious that she might fall, though she was by no means unsteady. "He'd be glad to know his baby was being looked after." She laughed.

Bob looked up at her and met her gaze.

"Every day for the rest of my life..." he whispered to himself, truly under his breath so she couldn't hear.

After a while, they stepped back. (Y/n) sighed happily, glancing back at it once more, before stepping out. Bob pushed the hangar door closed again.

He turned and saw her looking out at the sky, the sun hanging low, threatening to begin to dip below the horizon.

"One last thing to do." He spoke and she turned her head. She tilted it, a soft expression in her eyes and smiled at him- her cheeks dusted red and strands of hair swaying across her face in the late evening breeze.

She couldn't have looked more beautiful, her dress, pulled by the breeze, showing her figure, her body relaxed, just one hand clasped around the heels that she hadn't put back on. In this light she could have worn anything though, and he would have only been human and still fallen in love with her in an instant.

He was sure he couldn't breathe anymore as he watched.

But he still moved.

They got back in the pick-up and he pulled it around onto the tarmac of the runway.

He stepped out, grabbing his flight jacket from behind his seat, where he kept it.

She followed his lead and walked around and alongside the truck before he caught her up.

He did so quickly after though, and placed the jacket over her shoulders.

"The breeze gets cold." He spoke as he did, and she turned and kissed his cheek quickly, with a candid smile.

He unlatched the tailgate and let it open, before, once again, lifting her up onto it as she held his jacket over her shoulders.

She laughed as he did so and then hopped up next to her. She immediate curled up into him, and he put an arm around her, soothing into the moment.

They watched as the sun painted oranges and reds and pinks and purples into the sky. (Y/n) clung onto the young man, resting her head on him and feeling his fast pulse. Hers was just as rapid, and she felt like she had fallen into a dream.

It had been a weird day, her heart ached from it. She missed her father, deeply, and yet what she had seen today just made her glad that she had had him as her Papa. She knew more about him, his life, heard more love and fondness than she had ever known was possible. She was proud. She knew the greif would hit harder sometime, maybe over and over, but tonight she had a feeling that it was all okay. She knew that he wasn't suffering any longer, and that he had left, in the wake of his life, a blessing to carry on. She knew that he had known love, stronger than anything, and that no matter where she continued this life or who with, she would discover her own version of it.

"I like you very much, Lieutenant Floyd." She spoke, looking up at him. His grip on her tightened slightly as he returned the look. "And I'd like to kiss you. I want you."

"Yes Ma'am." He whispered.

He seemed to melt at the words, giving a small nod that allowed her to press a tender kiss to his lips. One that he returned, and which neither of them wanted to end.

Slowly, her hands drifted to his chest, allowing the jacket to slump off of her shoulders.

Her fingers found the buttons of his uniform jacket and undid them.

She pulled back and looked at him, questioning if she should continue, she felt almost shy about it but he nodded and pulled her back in.

She slid it off of him, and then did the same to his shirt, moving her kisses to his jaw and neck until they became sloppy. Already he was hard, and he pressed his fingertips into the flesh of her hips and waist, leaning his head back as she kissed him- giving small, breathy, sighing moans.

His hands pulled slightly at her dress until they found the hem. Then he ran his fingers across and down her skin, until he reached the lace of her underwear.

It was then that he placed his other hand to the small of her back, guiding her downward, taking over, kissing her collarbone and leaning over her.

Soon their hips were grinding together, she could feel his erection, but he backed off for a moment as he tugged at her underwear just a little. His fingers skirted across the band of them, and then dipped beneath it, finding immediately the correct spot and rubbing circles.

She placed her hand on the back of his neck, gasping a little at the sensation and shuddering as it continued.

It wasn't long before his fingers were replaced by his thumb and were instead pulling through wet folds. He pressed hungrier kisses to her breast bone and inserted first one finger then another as (y/n) ran her hand through his hair and let out a sweet little moan that only encouraged him.

He moved his kisses back to her lips, enjoying every vibration from each moan that escaped them, feeling her chest heave up and down, all his doing. Especially as she closed her eyes and sunk into orgasm. He felt her clench down on him and a series of shudders run through her. He smiled as he kissed her and only pulled away when she was done.

She breathed out and the look on her face was like a dream, glossy eyed and wet lipped.

She looked up at him, and there was an ecstasy in his eyes already. She pulled him back in, nibbling at his jaw line as he withdrew his hand and unbuttoned his pants with it- she helped him pull at them as they shared a shaky, giggling laugh and a smile. She brushed his hair from his face where a few strands had fallen, and pushed his glasses back up his nose- neither of them bothered about removing them.

He tugged once again at her underwear, pulling them all the way down. He used one arm to steady himself and placed the other hand on her lower abomen, her dress he lifted over her head before it slipped down.

She trailed her fingers down his muscular body, admiring it as he adjusted his position a little, before locking eyes with him and fluttering her eyelashes at him. Her own hands then sat at his collar, as he entered her infatuatingly and calculatedly slowly. Each movement from then on was strategically planned to capture her in her entirety. He made her twitch and whimper and her breath hitch, he gave the occasional needy moan.

She grazed his back with her nails as tension built in them both, she twitched her hips in just the right way and pressed her forehead into the crook of his neck- making him move his hand to the back of her head, tangling in her hair and then trailing down her neck, feeling every shiver and movement she made.

"You're something special-" He whispered, turning his head slightly and kissing her temple. "My god- you're something special." He spoke again against her skin- his voice shaking and his breath warm. Hot release enveloped his mind and gasped a tight and rasping moan.

"Bobby-" Was all the words she could breathe out before she was rocked, the sensation traveling through her body, heat radiating from her core and shaking her.

He lay down beside her, an arm still firmly around her, and they both lay dazed for a moment. A smile grew on her face and she let her head lay limp on his shoulder.

Tears slipped down her face after a moment, which Bob noticed as they dribbled hot and onto his skin. The hormones that flooded her body, ravaged her emotions.

Immediately he was alarmed, turning his head to see her and cupping her cheek in his hand.

"Are you alright?" He asked quickly, his eyes shining with concern and his lips pressed into a line. She nodded and laughed, placing her hand on his. Still he was worried he'd done wrong. "You're sure?" He asked again.

"Yes-" She spoke nodding, sitting up and wiping her eyes with shaking hands.

He did the same and pulled the flight jacket they'd been layed on back over her shoulders so she wouldn't be quite so exposed, as he did she leant into his chest.

He put his arms around her and breathed slowly. She let her arms snake around him and nodded again. She sighed and matched the pace of his breathing.

They stay like that for a few minutes before she pulled away and looked up at him. They shared a glad smile and curled into eachother. She looked up at the stars slowly emerging in the darkening sky.

When neither of them showed up until the morning, the Lieutenant was in severe trouble for missing curfew and technically going AWOL.

(Y/n) pulled in some favours and got him off the hook and could only laugh at the parallells of it all.

It was that moment that she decided she must have been in love.

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

TAGLIST:

@thespeeder @fangirlinc @inglourious-imagines @gh0strr @idfkwhyimhere4357 @dempy @luckyladycreator2 @fantasias-creativebubble @tipsykeen @daughterofthereaper02 @mg1327

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huntmavs · 1 year

Text

#ICEMAV: 36 years later… I’m still your wingman

#thinking about icemav 25/8 #missing icemav hours #icemav #tom cruise #val kilmer #pete maverick mitchell #maverick #tom iceman kazansky #tom kazansky #top gun #top gun maverick #tgm #film #movie #edit #huntmav edit

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redfurrycat · 6 months

Note

Hey! Have you made a master list of Ice being Jake’s dad? (I absolutely love, appreciate and frequently use your master lists)

Just as I’m writing the Ron is Jake’s dad au I’ve been trying to read all the Ice is Jake’s dad and I’m sure I’m missing some??

Hey Mac! 😊

This is slightly different than how I usually do rec lists. In this case, I searched through the Top Gun (Movies) fics tagged as Tom "Iceman" Kazansky & Jake "Hangman" Seresin and then proceeded with the collecting of all fics mentioning any paternal-filial bond between the two, regardless of the pairings.

Meaning I don't think I know most of them, but I hope you can find stuff to read nonetheless.

(I'll probably -absolutely- do a Hangster & Icepops-Hangson recs list though, at some point in the future! 😊)

I invite anyone to add fics fitting the request if you have more! 💖

Tumblr Posts

The Hangman's Guide to Winning Over Your Disapproving Admiral-In-Law – Part 1 – 2 – 3 (@amostexcellentblog)

Also see these:

nonbinary-jakeseresin post

weewoobrainrot post

whohasthecards post

AO3 Fics

(All have Jake as Ice's biological or adopted son, unless mentioned otherwise.)

See You Again by sleeping_maple {T}

Just when Hangman thinks that the day can't get any worse, he finds out that his father died. His father, Admiral Tom "Iceman" Kazansky. And he doesn't take it well. Luckily, Sarah Kazansky and Maverick are there to help.

Mini Man by SpringPetunia {T}

Hangman is Iceman's son. He never tells anyone anymore because of how they always react. But his dad is coming for a visit

Golden Boy by Earthangel_44 {E}

“Say it.” Jake says smiling. His face is so close to Bradley’s that Bradley has to duck his chin to look at him. “You’re a bird, Jake.” Bradley replies and Jake beams. “I already have the wings.” Jake says happily as he presses short quick kisses to Bradley’s lips. Bradley smiles and Jake kisses that too. “Now say you’re a bird.” Bradley laughs and he smiles until his eyes crinkle. “Well if you’re a bird, I’m a bird.” A Notebook AU because Glen Powell ships Hangster

Touch Starved by LeonDesdichard {M}

(Ice acting like a dad)

Jake shows up at Ice and Mav's house and he's completely out of it because he's sick and Maverick and Bradley are out of the house so it ends up being Ice who is the one that is taking care of Jake. Jake is completely out of it because he's feverish and he's really touch starved which has Ice angry for a ton of different reasons.

Military Amalgamate by rem_png {G}

(Icemav’s son)

Back in the 80s, the government wanted to make a new generation of super pilots. So, they turned to science and mixed the DNA of their best fighter pilots. None of the pilots knew about this project. Fast forward to 2020 and the truth comes out, rattling many families.

Take me home by Target_rich_environment {G}

Jake takes Bob home after the bird strike

IcePops and HangSon Series by UFOxMulder {T}{E}

Hangman snippets Series by Fantasy2739 {T}

Even worse idea! by LemonsAndSugarMakeLemonade {T}

(Ice acting like a dad)

“Bradley, Ice just texted me to come to “hang out”, is this a threat?” “Jake you’ve known him for almost five years now, it is definitely just Ice wanting you to do some work around the house.” “Okay but-” “Baby, this exact conversation happened last week, you know Ice is so different at home than he is at work.” “But is he?” “Jake, please,” “Okay yeah, I’ll go over.”

Midnight Hour Mixtape by Bubblegumchaos {T}

Hangman runs; he always been much too good at that sort of thing. Jake would give anything to find his father except his clues are half a dozen letters in a shoebox and his late mother's drunken rambles of a man who wasn't her husband.

I don't know how to change a tyre by blazingstar29 {G}

(Son-Fatherly Feels)

Jake gives his first father's day at 30.

Top Gun: Kazansky Twins by Tazlady691 {T}

A cannon divergence AU: The story of a pair of twins and their life up to 2023

The Mitchell-Kazanskys Series by WhisperingNights {T}{M}

Flowers for my grave by TheReadingWriter {T}

When a study on the genetics of Hanahaki disease brings forth the revelation that Jake "Hangman" Seresin is in fact Tom "Iceman" Kazansky's son, their lives take a dramatic turn, as they for the first time in their lives have someone to other than the ones who cursed them to live for. Their times are both running out, but they will be damned if they will let the other die without at least trying to save them. When the mission of a lifetime arrives, one thing is certain: It will either mean happiness for the rest of their lives, or certain death before the year has passed. How far will they go to protect the secret they know will kill them?

A Choice by Ren_Anders {_}

(Son-Fatherly Feels)

After everything, when everything is suppose to be smooth sailing, Jake gets a call. His dad has just died. But it doesn’t matter, right? He was an asshole and he refuses to give him his grief. OR Ice and Jake have a heart to heart about shitty dads and how to overcome their deaths

Family Ties by CryoCait {_}

Jake knows what policies there are in place to avoid familial conflict of interest, he's lived it for years. He knows how sacred those policies are to keeping his family sane. So logically it follows that he understands how dangerous this mission must be for the Navy to look aside and allow the entire Mitchell-Kazansky family to be a part of it. Now he just needed to make sure they all made it home in one piece. Or Jake is a Kazansky just as much as Bradley is a Mitchell, and Mav never pulled Bradley's papers. Now, the close-knit but under the radar family all must work together for the first time during the Uranium Plant mission and keep their relationships to each other under wraps while trying to make sure everyone survives this suicide mission.

Bikes and Bruises by WhisperingNights {M}

(Icemav’s son)

"You aren’t taking one of my bikes to the HR Drag Strip, Jacob, end of story,” Mav responded, crossing his arms over his chest. “I won’t be racing, it's just a show,” Jake protested. Mav snorted “Yeah, right.” “I won’t! The show starts at 9-” “How many times are you going to make me say no, son?” Mav asked.

Heartbeats & Bird Nests Series by SamHeartfilia {T}{E}

Two Men and a Baby by multifangirl11 {_}

(Mav’s son & Icemav)

Jake is Pete's son, Tom is a good friend who hopes to become more.

Keeping Dreams Alive, 1999 Hero's (I Ain't Worried Right Now) by Luxu1230 {_}

(Icemav’s son)

Jake "Hangman" Seresin is the biological son of Pete "Maverick" Mitchell and Tom "Iceman" Kazasky but was kidnapped not that long after being born all he has of them is a small f-14 Tomcat silver necklace which he keeps hidden. He knows his "parents" are his real "Parents" though they don't exactly know that but when he overhears a certain conversation between three people he starts suspecting of who his true parents maybe and from the sounds of it they definitely didn't abandon him.

Been searching for a(n Ice)man by crowstakeflight {G}

Jake did not really look like either of his parents. Sure, he could see some of his mom in his features when he looked in the mirror, but the majority of them are from someone he’s never seen before. It didn’t take much to bring the question up to his parents and they answered honestly. Or, Jake's biological father is Iceman and this is what happens after he finds out.

Living after midnight, loving 'til the morning, then I'm gone. by WaffleToaster {E}

Nobody thought their actions back in the winter of '85 and beyond would end up having these consequences. A story woven from past mistakes, indecisions and loss that eventually helped shape his world and upbringing. But despite all the hardships one thing was for certain, Jake Seresin was destined to fly and he knew the Navy was where he belonged. A slightly altered kind of retelling that includes Jake 'Hangman' Seresin being Tom 'Iceman' Kazansky’s lost son, a story about revelations, love, loss, friendship and most importantly family. Where two rivals find out they may not be so different from one another and their journey to understanding, unity, serenity and eventually love. First by hating, then by loving and finally understanding and helping one another find a place they both deserve. Just not in the same order.

A Kazansky Redemption by WhisperingNights {E}

This is a Kazansky love story. Can one win back the love of their life? Can the other find love in a storm of hate? **** “Sarah, that’s been over for 26 years, besides your my wife, remember? It wouldn’t be good to go tell a man I love him now would it?” Ice grinning playfully at her. She gave a small laugh that quickly turned into a cough, causing him to lean toward her in concern. “I’m alright, I’m alright, sit down,” she rasped, waving him off, then she looked at him “I love you Tom, but we both know our love was foraged in partnership nothing else. We did what was necessary for the safety of ourselves and your career. But it’s 2017, it's easier now. Sexuality rights are better, people are more open. I’ll never get to have a wife, but you Tom, you deserve to have a husband.” ***** Jake’s eyes landed on a figure in an awful Hawaiian shirt and sunglasses. His irritation instantly grew, the universe really must hate him.

#do me a 🐈recs list🐈 asks #answered ask #jake hangman seresin as tom iceman kazansky's son #hangman is iceman's son #🐈red🐈furry🐈cat🐈tag🐈

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tgmsunmontue · 3 months

Text

It's all academic darlin' EPILOGUE

~39k+ Hangster AU. IceMav established in background.

Bradley is a professor but living his best life with IceMav parents. Jake is a pilot. Maverick sort-of tries (and fails) to play matchmaker, so he tries again. Touch of epistolary and sprinkling of one-sided unknown/mistaken-identity.

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4 PART 5 PART 6 PART 7 PART 8 PART 9 PART 10

This is a very fluffy feel-good epilogue. Didn't quite manage to shoehorn in more of Bradley lecturing and Jake being in there, or as much epistolary as I would like. ENJOY! (~4.5k long)

EPILOGUE

Bradley was meant to fly last night, but he’d ended up being kept back with something drastic in the lab, so he’d missed his take-off timeslot. Instead it’s fucking ass o’clock and Jake is watching the little six-seater come in to land and he’s pretty sure the swooping in his stomach is because the man he’s pretty sure he loves is inside that plane. It’s been a week of revelations and he can hardly believe it’s only been a week. He watches as Bradley follows the directions of the ground crew before he’s walking toward him, bag slung over his should and he looks great. His legs and ass are gorgeous, but he’s walking with a little jump in his step like he’s immensely happy and Jake’s pretty confident that he’s the reason.

There aren’t any words, just soft-slow smiles and Bradley has dropped his bag, is pushing Jake against his rental car, hands on his ass as he presses himself against Jake’s front and then kisses him for a solid three minutes, maybe five, and it feels so good to be touching him again, to have him there after just talking to him on the phone in spare moments during the week when they’d both been free.

“Hi there sailor...”

“You are such a dork.”

“Guilty as charged. What are you going to do about it?”

“Suffer, apparently. Come on, we can go back to bed…”

“Really now? When I went to all this effort to look good to meet your family?”

Jake doesn’t mention how his hair is squished from wearing the headset in the plane, his shirt rumpled and buttoned incorrectly. He looks like a wet dream come to life and Jake wouldn’t want him any other way. He throws Bradley’s bag in the backseat, shoves him toward the passenger side and starts the drive back to the house they’re staying at.

“Adam and Michelle are your brother and sister. Adam’s married to Kelly, they’ve got three year old twins. Michelle is married to Lachlan and they have the five year old, three year old and the baby…”

“Yep.”

“I’m not going to remember this right.”

“You’ll be fine, it’s not like they’re going to quiz you. Also my sister is going to go so easy on you, pretty sure she’d given up hopes on me finding anyone. Bachelor for life.”

“Yeah, when you’re so ineligible and everything…” Bradley snorts.

“Maybe I was just waiting for perfection to come along,” Jake replies and catches the immediate flush to Bradley’s face at the compliment.

Of course his sister is awake when they arrive, his eight month old niece, Emily, passed out on her shoulder and she looks half asleep herself. His industrial strength earplugs have come in handy this week, but parents can’t ignore their screaming offspring.

“Oh hi, Bradley. It’s nice to meet you…”

“Hi, you must be Michelle.”

“Here, let me take her so you can go back to bed…” Jake offers.

“The other two will be awake in less than an hour –”

“All the more reason to try and get some sleep now. She’s teething,” Jake says to Bradley, taking Emily from his sister’s unresisting arms and giving her a gentle push toward her own bedroom. Emily doesn’t even stir in his arms.

“Nice to meet you Bradley, maybe I can have a proper conversation when I’m actually awake,” Michelle says, ambling off and only bumping into one wall as she goes. He shifts slightly, makes his hold on Emily a little more secure and one he can maintain for longer.

“Do you want kids?” Bradley asks, voice quiet and somber and Jake meets his eye, suddenly terrified he might answer this wrong. This isn’t something they’ve ever discussed.

“No. Uh. Sorry, is that a deal breaker?”

“No, it’s definitely not a deal breaker,” Bradley says, and if Jake was going to put money on something he’s say he looked a little relieved. “You just look good like that.”

“Bradshaw, I look good all the time. I though we’d already established that fact.”

“We had, this was just one I hadn’t been expecting.”

“Well, I’m more than happy playing the cool uncle. And helping my brother and sister out. No desire to add any mini-mes to the world.”

“You’d make very cute babies…”

“Bradshaw, our babies would be too hot for the world, it’s a good thing they’ll never come to fruition. You want to hold her? She’s dead to the world…”

“Yeah, sure thing…”

Surprising him Bradley scoops Emily from him with easy confidence and Jake knows he doesn’t have nieces and nephews, or cousins, or…

“Plenty of my friends have kids. I’m also the go-to cool uncle,” Bradley says, clearly seeing the surprised expression on Jake’s face.

“Our powers combined…”

“And people think I’m the geeky one,” Bradley mutters, but he’s grinning at Jake. His stomach-heart-brain are on that three-seater roller coaster again and he can’t hold it back.

“I love you.”

He feels like he might throw up, suddenly nervous he’s said it too soon, or Bradley will run. That something bad will happen. It doesn’t. Bradley gives him a slow smile, it grows wider and wider, his eyes crinkling, his hand reaches up to cup Jake’s jaw and he’s pulling him close, his lips brushing over Jake’s and the kiss is gentle but firm, feels full of meaning somehow.

“I love you too.”

Okay then.

… … …

“Bradley, nice to meet you. Haven’t heard much about you of course, he saves all the good gossip for Michelle.”

“Hey! Michelle and I both like – oh crap… hi kids.”

Bradley snorts into his coffee, stares up at the ceiling for a brief second in the hope it’ll stop him from bursting into laughter. This has to be Adam and his wife Kelly, each of them holding a toddler.

“Were you being gross again?”

“When isn’t he gross?”

“Hey! I take offence to all of this! It’s slander!”

“I had to watch your teenage years. You were gross,” Michelle says, looking more awake than this morning.

“Oh! Do you have photos?” Bradley asks, and Jake squawks with alarm.

Michelle does indeed have photos and later Bradley enjoys looking through them, although he can see that Jake wasn’t exactly brimming with the confidence and happiness he has an adult. Knows a little more now how his parents don’t talk to Jake; effectively disowned when he came out. The fact that his brother and sister walked away as well tells him that there’s probably even more to it but he’s not going to pry. Jake will tell him if he wants to. He’s smiling down at the photo of Jake on his USNA graduation day, his brother and sister on either side of him when he feels Michelle settle down beside him on the sofa, Emily in her arms.

“Thank you.”

“What for?” Bradley asks, a bit confused.

“For giving my brother what he deserves.”

“Oh. Easiest thing I’ve ever done.”

She smiles and gives him a one-armed hug before passing him Emily.

… … …

“You look like a natural holding that baby…” Mav says over the phone and Bradley frowns before spying Jake over in the doorway, phone in hand and grinning at him. Traitor.

“Jake’s sending you photos.”

“Hangman appreciates my desire for grandchildren.”

“Hangman knows how to direct your obsession toward something actually feasible. I think Ice is lucky you couldn’t knock him up. Jesus Mav.”

“I like kids okay? They’re cool. Anyway, he could’ve knocked me up. We’re equals like that.”

“Ugh. I don’t need to know.”

… … …

Jake hasn’t felt this happy, this settled, since he can remember. Maybe when he was a kid and didn’t have any worries in the world. Now he has his family, Bradley, a formal screening process to begin for the test pilot position and everything feels so good. So right. He doesn’t even have an impending sense that something bad has to happen to balance it out. He simply feels secure and content and it’s heady.

… … …

“Hey, you think you could ask Michelle and Adam whether they’d mind a couple more visitors this weekend?”

“Did you want to bring friends?” Jake asks, because there is a spare bedroom, but depending on who Bradley wants to bring might mean they don’t have the space. They have the house until Sunday, but they’ve got long drives ahead of them so will be leaving early.

“No. Mav and Ice want to come. I don’t have labs this Friday and I can rearrange someone to take my lectures…”

Jake grins at the idea that Bradley’s family wants to meet his, that Bradley is rearranging his work to help that happen. He knows this isn’t normal but it’s also not usual for his family to all be in one place.

“You want to come a day earlier? Yeah, that’d be great.”

“Earlier and with extra people.”

“It’s fine. We’d nearly out-number the kids and be able to let the parents have a date night or something…”

“Or something huh? You angling for more nieces and nephews?”

“No! But they might like to have some time together without their kids there. They’ll probably just sleep if their conversations are anything to go on.”

… … …

He watches the plane come in and just waits, the feeling far more familiar now and he’s hopefully going to be watching Bradley fly into and out of his life regularly and he wouldn’t want it any other way, except maybe living together but one step at a time. He watches and then laughs, realizing that Bradley didn’t fly this time, is stalking toward him from where the plane is being towed into a hangar with a slightly annoyed look on his face and Jake kisses him, glad to see it wipes the annoyance clear off.

“He didn’t let you fly huh?”

“Of course not. You think I’m allowed to fly when he’s in the plane? He’s far too much of a control freak for that. I don’t want to know what he promised Ice, because there wasn’t even the hint of an argument this time. By the way, Ice is the same with cars. It’s a whole thing. You’ll get it as well.”

Sure enough Jake is hip-checked out of the way as soon as they’ve exchanged quick hellos and hugs. Jake sure isn’t saying no to sitting in the back with Bradley, but he’s not going to not be an annoying shit about it, tosses a wink at Bradley and links their hands together; waits until they’ve been driving for a minute before speaking.

“Are we there yet? I’m hungry… Bradley’s breathing too close to me.”

“I need to use the bathroom!” Bradley adds in, realizing what game Jake is now playing, and he’s laughing.

“You two are such shits. Can you not act your age?”

“We’ll start acting our ages when you two do the same…” Bradley says, laughing.

… … …

“Adam, nice to meet you again. Much nicer circumstances this time around.”

“Pete, good to see you. And yeah, definitely much better. Can I get you a drink?”

Bradley looks between them, a little confused as to when their paths could have crossed.

“When did you guys meet?”

“At the hospital, after Jake’s accident.”

He remembers Jake mentioning an accident, hadn’t realized it had maybe been serious enough to require family to fly across the country. He’s going to need to ask Jake later, is suddenly filled with the worry that something might happen and he won’t know about it until well after the fact. Hates the idea for so many reasons but it’s definitely the idea of not knowing which is the worst. He needs to add Jake to his own emergency contact info so he’s not left in the dark either.

Ice is using his text-to-voice app to talk with Michelle and Lachlan, before Mav drags Adam over to introduce him as well and Bradley feels like he can maybe leave them to it and drop the bags in their room.

“This is a little surreal… my nephews are trying to climb the legs of the COMPACFLT so they can play with the device he’s holding,” Jake says, coming up behind him and wrapping his hands around Bradley’s waist.

“Ice loves kids, but usually kids are scared of him because he can looks so serious and he can’t talk very well to reassure them now, but he won’t mind…”

“Oh, I know he won’t mind. He puts up with you and Mav, and now me… he has the patience of a saint.”

“The patience maybe, but nothing else is saint like and we all know it.”

… … …

Bradley watches as Mav settles himself on the ground, pushing some of the blocks to the side. He remembers Mav playing with him a lot when he was a kid, remembers him bringing him presents, nearly always toy planes, but they’d changed, once his dad had died. He’d gone from being excited about the presents Mav bought to simply being happy to see Mav. And okay, he doesn’t want kids but he does feel a little sad that Mav’s not going to be a grandfather.

Except… except he can. Mav and Ice both are his dad in every sense that is important, and he knows Mav loves Jake. Their little family unit of three can easily grow to encompass Jake and his siblings and their families over time. Especially given that their own parents are not in the picture and likely never will be.

“I’m still not having kids Mav, but I’m pretty sure if you wanted to step into the role of grandfather for Jake’s nieces and nephews there’s a couple of positions available for you and Ice. If you wanted them.”

Mav nods once, simple acknowledgment that he’s heard him, but Bradley doesn’t miss the dampness in his eyes.

… … …

He’s made himself comfortable in Bradley’s apartment as much as he can. Has permission to use his office while he’s on campus during the day and Jake lets himself lounge around and get comfortable. He pours himself a coffee and takes the mug and re-examines the bookshelves, wonders if any of the texts might prove useful to what he’s reading for the test pilot position.

He’s not really paying attention to anything when he hears a quick knock on the door, before the door is opening and he freezes, sense of déjà vu so strong he has to double check he’s actually fully dressed this time. He is thankfully but he’s wondering how many people have fucking keys to Bradley’s apartment.

“Oh my god! You’re not Bradley.”

“Ah, no. Uh…”

“Oh! You’re the boyfriend! Jacob right?”

“Jake. Yeah.”

“Kezia. Nice to meet you.”

“Uh. And you…”

“Bradley didn’t warn you I was coming over?”

“No.”

“Typical. I’m here to make sure his indoor plants don’t die. I’m his plant person.”

“Plant person?” Jake asks, a little confused, but he vaguely remembers something Bradley said, about how he couldn’t keep plants alive and maybe that’s why he has a plant person…? His phone rings then and he pulls it out, sees Bradley’s face on screen and accepts the call.

“Hi.”

“Hi. I forgot to tell you –”

“She’s already here.”

“Shit. Sorry.”

“It’s fine…” Jake says, but Kezia is moving closer, clearly aware that he’s talking to Bradley.

“Nice work Bradshaw!”

“Fuck’s sake…” Bradley mutters and Jake grins, but knows he’s also maybe blushing a little. “I was a little distracted this morning okay, then I was running late.”

“Got distracted huh? Wonder what caused that?”

“Yeah, you’d have no idea huh?”

“None at all. You go do your teaching shit, I’m going to make Kezia a cup of coffee…? Tea? And ask all about your ineptitude with house plants.”

“He’s useless,” Kezia says loudly, but she’s already heading to the kitchen to make herself a hot drink of some description and Jake thinks he’ll get on fine with her too.

… … …

“Hey kid! I bought you something!”

“Uh, you didn’t have to do that Mav…”

“Oh no, I did.”

Jake opens it and inside the cardboard box is a muzzle, and he looks

“Are you making a comment about their sex life?” Ice asks, and Jake snorts, glad he can follow the most of the signing now. Wonders if Tom would be so risky with his conversations if more people understood what he was saying.

“No! Well. I guess I am actually.”

“Well, hate to break it to you Mav, but that mark wasn’t left by me.”

“What? What do you mean?” Mav asks, suddenly concerned and Jake will never get sick of being able to wind him up knowing that he’ll think it’s funny at the end of the day.

“It’s a rope burn…”

“What!” Mav flushes red and Jake keeps his expression deadpan.

“Your fault for asking about their sex life,” Ice says, his expression delighted.

“I wasn’t!”

“You mean you didn’t want me to wear this in the bedroom?” Jake asks, holding up the muzzle.

“I meant it as a joke…!”

“Ah… what the hell did I just walk into?” Bradley asks, looking between them. Ice is laughing so much he has tears at the corner of his eyes, breath coming in rough gasps.

“Mav bought us a sex toy.”

“No I didn’t!”

“A muzzle for me because of that new mark on your neck…”

“A rope did this…”

“I don’t need to know!” Mav exclaims, and Jake wonders if he can start turning purple with how red his face is.

“From climbing Mav. Fucking hell. A rope got caught on a hold and scraped over my neck and gave me friction burn.”

Jake has joined Ice in laughing, the expression in Mav’s face caught between relieved and embarrassed and Bradley just looking resigned.

… … …

A YEAR LATER

He’s finished his test-pilot training, managed to maintain a long-distance relationship with Bradley in San Diego and himself in fucking Maryland. Now though he’s enroute to Fallon, beginning as an advanced Top Gun instructor in five weeks. First though he has five weeks uninterrupted with Bradley and a piece of land he bought that he has plans for, sitting adjacent to the same piece of land that belongs to Tom. He’s meeting Bradley there, his family coming for two weeks of camping and he can’t wait to have them all in the same place.

Once he lands in Fallon he immediately rings Bradley, and he’s going to have to reward him for this phone lasting almost nine months when he sees him. The last one had survived over a year, which had been a record when it had slid off the wing of Bradley’s plane and crashed onto the airstrip. Something that’s happened before apparently. Mav has shared a spreadsheet with him for sole purpose of roasting Bradley and he can’t wait to be closer to them all again.

“Hi…”

“Hi. God it’s good to hear your voice.”

“Well, we’re lucky we don’t have to deal with grossly different time zones anymore. Are you going to come up this weekend?”

“Ah… Yeah. I guess I’ll be this weekend. Although my plans for my romantic weekend away are being crashed by Ice and Mav. They heard about the work you want to do and want to help.”

“Bit presumptuous of you thinking it was going to be romantic…”

“I said my romantic weekend, not our romantic weekend. If you’re good you can watch…”

“Really now?”

“I guess you can touch if you really want to.”

“Trust me, I’m going to want to. Been too long.”

“We’ve gotten very good at phone sex though.”

“We have. Still prefer you in person.”

“Of course you do. Anyway, do you need me to pick you up or you got a car organized?”

“I thought you were still at home?”

“Not so much…”

Then Bradley’s walking around the corner of the building where he’s clearly been watching from and Jake drops everything and is kissing him, desperate to remind himself of the planes of his face and body and he pulls back suddenly.

“What the fuck happened to your moustache?”

“It’s called shaving?”

“I thought we were meant to consult each other on major life decisions?”

“I slipped with the clippers and took one third off. Trust me, this was the better option. I’ll grow it back. Not having one makes Emily cry when I video call…”

“Fuck I love you.”

Bradley smiles, kisses him breathless and Jake doesn’t need to hear the words anymore to know he feels the same.

… … …

Bradley’s nervous, because this isn’t the only surprise he has up his sleeve. He knows Jake has plans for their summer, building a cabin similar to Ice’s but a bit away on his own piece of land. Somewhere his family can come and stay, a place for him to call home. Except… he hadn’t particularly wanted to spend their five weeks building, and laying foundations and priming. Mav had fortunately jumped at the chance for a larger project, and between them they’ve laid the foundation, erected the walls, paid to have the roof and outer walls all installed by professionals.

It’s a much bigger place than the three-bedroom cabin belonging to Ice and Mav. Once finished it’ll easily host Jake’s siblings and all his nieces and nephews, at least while they’re small. He just hasn’t exactly told Jake that he and Mav have been working on it, sometimes under the careful supervision of Ice. Some rooms he’s gone ahead and finished off, getting professionals in again to do the bathrooms and kitchen, glad he hadn’t had to live in the building while it was being built and finished.

Jake’s bedroom, their bedroom, has been left untouched. Needs paint and drapes and light fixtures. He wants to do that room with Jake, hopes that gesture will help Jake accept that he hasn’t been involved with the rest of the build. He drives past the entrance to Ice and Mav’s cabin and Jake makes a little sound, glances back before realizing that maybe Bradley is taking them to his piece of land first. As far as Jake knows there’s the concrete foundation that he organized to be laid several months ago. That not what awaits him when he turns down the rough drive.

“Holy shit…”

“Yep,” Bradley says, agreeing, because it does look impressive. Two stories with wide wrap-around porch, finished so it blends into surrounding forest. It’s much bigger than the original plans Jake had made, but Bradley had taken them and still based all the decisions on them. The internal fixtures are all still the ones that Jake had chosen and he’s still nervous that Jake is going to be upset. He stops the car and gets out, follows as Jake stands there and stares around.

“What… what happened? Did you do this?”

“Yeah. Me and Mav. With help from quite a few professionals. Been a busy few months.”

“Holy shit Bradley.”

“I mean, happy belated anniversary and congratulations on finishing test pilot training?”

Jake lets out a little sound that may be a half-hiccup half-sob and Bradley is pretty sure he likes it. He wraps his arms around him, hugs him tight and presses a kiss to his cheek.

“I love you… so much.”

… … …

“You sure about this?” Javy asks as Jakes stares down at the display case.

“You know, I’ve never felt more certain about anything more in my life. I can’t imagine a better relationship than what we have, except getting to call him my husband, so… yeah. I’m sure.”

“Good for you man. So happy for you.”

… … …

He’s an hour overdue his usual second cup. His morning lecture having a student stop him afterwards with a question, and then an online meeting stopping him from just nipping into the breakroom like usual, so it’s much quieter when he walks into breakroom and does a double take.

What the fuck.

Hanging from the ceiling vents are mobiles of fucking origami roosters. Lining the windowsills, the edges of the coffee machines, the little tables and benches, lips of the whiteboard where the markers usually sit, the arms of the chairs (at least the ones that actually have arms, it’s a pretty eclectic mix of chairs). Everywhere he looks there are just more and more hiding and he wonders how many students got involved with this. There have to be thousands. There are a few people sitting, seemingly unconcerned they’re surrounded by origami roosters and can’t really move without standing on them or knocking them over. Then he spies Michael in the corner, phone held up and no doubt filming. He stalks over, culprit identified.

“Dude. What the fuck?”

“Not my idea actually. I just helped implement it. What do you think?”

“I mean… points for literal creativity but why?”

“Jake. Being a sappy romantic.”

“Jake made these?” Bradley asks, looking around.

“Only some of them, but definitely that mobile over there. It’s for your cabin apparently,” Michael says, expression dry, but Bradley doesn’t care. He’s flushed with warmth knowing that Jake has somehow managed to pull a prank like this off, gotten his friends and work colleagues and likely his students all secretly folding origami roosters…

“Man he’s an asshole…”

“An asshole that loves you. Bradley Bradshaw, will you marry me?”

He spins around and Jake is there, down on one knee by the shitty coffee machine that never works, there’s a crowd of people now, standing and watching and he gapes in surprise. Jake is meant to be in Fallon, not here. But he’s not… he’s here. Proposing to him.

“No! I was going to propose this weekend!”

“Not the answer I wanted to hear Bradshaw. You’re just too slow…”

“I’m just the right speed when I need to be and you know it.”

Jake smirks and nods his head slightly in agreement, stands up and moves toward Bradley, wrapping his arm not holding a ring around his waist.

“You still haven’t answered me darlin’…”

“Yes you asshole, of course I’ll marry you.”

… … …

Jake stares at the email in front of him and feels an intense flood of déjà vu. He’s emailing a guy about his research into materials for the new plane he’s going to be involved in testing and he’s asked a difficult question apparently.

Thanks, I’ll check with my supervisor and get back to you. He’s got a lot more experience than I do in this area.

It’s a highly confidential project. He’s signed a lot of forms which he painstakingly read. He cannot talk to anyone about the project unless they’re already in the know and while he suspects that this is exactly the field that Bradley consults on he can’t fucking ask without giving it all away.

… … …

“Hi there…”

“Hi. What’s got you in such a good mood?”

“Well, just got reminded how smart my fiancé is.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmm… test pilot, consulting with the US Department of Defense Research and Engineering group…”

“Has it been you I’ve been emailing again? I’d swear it’s not you, but he said he had to check with his supervisor…”

“Yeah. I’m his supervisor. Mentor really. He’s doing his post-doctorate. He forwarded me your emails and it just got me all nostalgic…”

“You mean it made you horny.”

“That too.”

… … …

Bradley is giving a public lecture, a taster for the University Open Day because he’s apparently always a hit with the crowds. It’s not long, only fifteen minutes and is meant to touch on the different engineering disciplines and their applications. He spies Jake about halfway through and stumbles, his words just failing as his brain stalls at the sight of his fiancé.

“So, when it comes to materials science, often when you know the properties of each material, when you add them together they form something stronger, something better, because they’re added together. Working together. So in this case one plus one is not two. One plus one is greater than two.”

The grin Jake gives him is blinding.

#Hangster #Top Gun Maverick fanfiction #Sereshaw #rooster x hangman #It's all academic darlin'

32 notes · View notes

film-in-my-soul · 8 months

Note

Icemav missing scene please!

.⋆｡°✩ Maverick and Ice have a little goodbye after the Layton rescue. ✩°｡⋆.

Maverick is still buzzing, even two days later, even when the threat is gone and he's being told to pack his things so he can head back to dry land, where he thinks he needs to be, where it should be safe. He tells himself it's all that adrenaline from nearly getting shot out of the damn sky. From almost getting Slider and Hollywood, Wolf and Iceman shot down, too. If he ignores a closer, more probably truth, well, that doesn't have to be between anyone except him and his front seat.

He's folding his spare uniform in precise corners, following the sharp creases of it, and lets the routine settle him enough that the slight tremor under his skin doesn't make him shake. It's a familiar comfort, arranging his life into a box. Each fold and tuck as ingrained in him as slipping on his flight suit.

There are only a few hours left before he's on transport. He's said his goodbyes to Wolf and Wood, both of them staying on for their redeployment, and Sundown had wished him farewell and good luck in the mess hall that morning, his belongings already moved out of the temporary bunk they'd been put in. He knows there are more people he wants to shake hands with, tell 'em to keep the skies warm for him while he goes and teaches, but Maverick keeps himself to the room, worried the jitters still living in him will make him do something stupid, get his position at Mirimar revoked.

There's no Goose to temper him now, no RIO to back up his bullshit, no-

A knock against the frame of the door Maverick left open stops him cold, spiraling thoughts and all.

It's both usurping and a shock to see Ice leaning there, hip cocked and chin tipped down, eyes flicking over Maverick's mostly filled pack. He'd been up on a hop with Slider when Maverick had been given the departure information. Someone must have told Ice he was shipping back to California. As far as Maverick knew, Ice and Slider were getting dropped off at some European port for their next assignment.

For a moment, neither of them says anything, Ice just standing there, watching, like he's looking for an answer that might have been hiding in the layers of Maverick's shirts and Maverick watching him back, throat tight for some unknown reason.

Though, if he lets himself consider it, he might know. He could guess, at least.

They had their moment on the tarmac after it all. They were wingmen, friends now, and to pretend it wasn't at least a little bit cowardly to cut and run without a metaphorical Dear John was, well... cowardly.

"Teaching?" Ice doesn't say it like Maverick thought he might, all shit-eating and sarcastic, no follow-up like Wood had, ribbing him hard and asking if he was gonna ask the female cadets to turn in 'extra credit.' Ice sounds strangely approving, and for some dumb reason, Maverick wants to bristle at that.

"Yeah. Looks like you're gonna have to find someone else to keep sharp on your wing." It's more bitter than he means to be, than he should be, but Ice, catching him off guard again, doesn't rise to the admittedly weak bait. He smirks instead, snorting with an amused shake of his head as he stands up straight and walks into the room. He saddles up beside Maverick and knocks their shoulders together lightly before snagging the half-done undershirt from his fingers.

"Nah. They wouldn't measure up."

And that- that's a goddamn compliment, isn't it? Maverick's almost too stunned to speak, so instead, when he catches the sloppy way Ice is tucking his clothes into his pack, Maverick jabs him with his elbow, laughing when the taller man almost trips to get away from the strike.

"Guess I'll just have to train 'em up so they can."

"A dozen more Mavericks flying around? Don't think the Navy will go for that."

Maverick lifts his head and catches Ice's eyes. There's a lightness there, a fondness he hadn't been expecting, but it looks right, living there on Ice's normally stern-set mouth and pinched eyes, and just like that, all that restless energy rolls out of Maverick like it wasn't there to begin with.

"Guess we'll just have to see about that Iceman."

A pause, a look, a quirk of a mouth, and another nudge, maybe just for the sake of the pressure of touch.

"Guess we will."

Ficlet Bingo!

#icemav #icemav ficlet #top gun ficlet #ficlet bingo #blog game

48 notes · View notes

polar-equinoxx · 1 year

Text

☁️The heavens told me that clouds have been grey

yes that is from lady gaga's song hold my hand from tgm-

Here lies all of my icemav fics! So guaranteed smooches <3 (None of them link to each other unless they are in a seperate series btw)

Here is the big ol’ masterlist :)

goose and slider forever judging them in the background

☁️There's a silver lining on every cloud 13k+

Rated Teen, and with copius amounts of fluff :3 A collection of various icemav kisses prompts from a tumblr post full of them

☁️Only One Bed (1076 words)

Rated Gen, emotional hurt/comfort Iceman and Maverick are on a mission of somesorts together, and they get put in a room which has, yep, you guessed it, only one bed. And Maverick has a nightmare.

☁️Sunset on the Field (1086 words)

Rated Gen, first kiss, a sunset, that's it. Maverick invites Iceman to sit on a field near a runway to watch the sunset and maybe stargaze, a thing friends do, right? And they both deny their plainly obvious feelings for the other until neither of them can bear it any longer…

☁️Smoke in the Air (735 words)

Rated Teen, with anxiety, and hurt/comfort They don’t tell Iceman that Maverick is missing in action. Kind of important information when you're in a hospital ward twelve hours after you're shot down.

☁️Warmth (1020 words)

Rated Teen, angst and hurt/comfort Maverick hates sleeping in the same bed as Ice. He also hates himself. Tonight makes it way worse.

☁️Blame (957 words)

Rated Teen, angsty thoughts and its a sickfic, so.. Maverick was sick. Not the little cough and blocked nose sick, but the feverous, restless sick that gives thumping headaches and coughs that give you chest ache.

☁️Missed You (2119 words)

Rated Teen, secret relationship, anxiety, mental and regular hospitals (i'm sorry Mav) An accident. Two injured pilots, a broken wrist on one, a fractured ankle and twisted shoulder on the other. A string of numbers. 225 63 2829

☁️Still by your Side (2006 words)

Rated Teen, angst, post-break up, hurt/comfort, injuries It's been a couple of months since Iceman and Maverick broke up. They're still wingmen, they still fly missions together. But it takes a bad landing from an ejection for them to realise that they still need each other. Inspired by this post , that broke me.

☁️Even Ice Melts (1927 words)

Rated Teen, angsT, grief, stormy night, post-argument, hurt comfort, good god this has it all. “No one will be there to mourn you when you crash and burn,” Ice hisses slowly. Oh how he hated Iceman. “Then let us hope I crash and burn tomorrow,” he says harshly, still somehow maintaining eye-contact with him.

☁️Starved (1825 words)

Rated Teen, hand-holding, emotional hurt comfort, mutual pining sort of at the end... Maverick is touch-starved. He doesn't know it. Nobody else knows it. Nobody else except for Iceman. Of course he had to notice. And despite them being rivals, Ice plucks up the courage to offer Maverick a seat in the next lesson.

☁️Boys Don't Cry (1921 words)

Rated Teen, fluff, emotional hurt/comfort, Ice needs a hug. Iceman Kazansky has been told all his life by everyone older than him that 'boys don't cry', 'boys don't have emotions' and if they do one must keep it all to themselves. He gets it, it's kind of why he'd called Iceman. But if there's one person that'll unexpectedly rewrite that lecture it's his newly rival-turned-wingman. Or, Ice tries to hold all his emotions in for the hundredth time and Maverick helps him understand he doesn't have to hide them anymore.

☁️Cingulomania (2127 words)

Rated Teen, fluff, hurt/comfort, Maverick needs a hug (noun) - a strong desire to hold someone in your arms. "When I go, I hope I go out just as beautifully,” Ice muses out loud. “Oh-” Maverick starts, seemingly involuntarily. “I’d really prefer it if you didn’t go at all..” Or, Iceman has unknowingly forged an emotional connection with his wingman

☁️I'm in Your Arms, I'm in Your Care (4187 words)

Rated Teen, two parts in one, hurt/comfort, both Ice and Mav need hugs Luck wasn't a strong enough word to describe how much love Ice felt for Maverick. There was such a thing as touch, though, and that was heaven for both of them.

☁️The Time Will Come (2633 words)

Rated Gen, SO much fluff, dadt, dadt repeal If there's one thing that had got Ice this far, it was the promise that one day, things would get better. He'd just have to wait. But he had got this far, looking at the smirking face of his partner-in-secret, Maverick Mitchell of all people.

#HERE WE GO BOIS #here are all the icemav fics ^^#will post the canon ones later today-#ms fanfics #ms tg #masterlist #ao3 #ao3 masterlist #top gun

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pollyna · 1 year

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notes more than anything else. (half mine and half @redhead-writes 🫶)

- Post mission de-aged Bradley, nobody knows about icemav even if they're married, and baby goose goes and calls Mav paps! and Ice dad! like 0.3 seconds a part in front of the whole fucking entire squadron;

- And maybe he de-ages to a moment when Carole was already starting to be sick, spend a lot of time in the hospital so Baby Goose was at home with Ice while Mav was in deployed and he finds himself on the carrier and Ice isn't anywhere to be seen and panics because papa papa where's dad why Dad isn't here? and everybody believes he's talking about Nick and Mav doesn't know what to do because is back is killing him but he doesn't want to let Bradley go;

- Mav literally has to pick him up because he's six and he wants to be hugged by his dad and he's wearing too big clothes and what are we playing at?

- Baby Goose is little but the carrier is full jets and be can't contain himself from pointing around and screaming "ARE THOSE PLANES? DID DAD FINALLY GET US ALLOWANCE TO FLY? DID YOU FINALLY CONVINCE HIM PAPA???" and, in the same sentence,"DID WE PAINT THE HELMET TOGETHER PAPA????"

- All in all, Bobby is the first one to get out of shock. He knows Maverick must be injured. So he talks with Bradley, introducing himself and how papa is a bit hurt, so Bob will be his own personal carrier for today. Promises that they will stay close to Maverick. Javy is next to get out of it and commands others getting food and juice, and maybe some kid clothes and tries to ask, very gently, which his Bradley's favourite food without making him noticing that they're taking Mav away;

- Natasha is inventing wild stories about dragons while he cuddles between Jake's arms, because he looks comfy, and everybody else's is there just looking out for him. Bob is the one with Maverick mostly because he seems to know if someone doesn't take the man to the infirmary, he won't go;

- there's then the small matter of Hondo calling Ice, who's in Washington D.C., and the moment his voice is on the other side of the phone Bradley doesn't hear anything else and starts crying because dad dad where are you papa is hurt please dad come to take us home. Ice is shocked. This sounds like their Baby Goose when he was little, and he can't think about Hondo pranking him on something that important. Especially when he doesn't know anything about Mav yet. So the man is on the first plane to his husband and son. It takes hours, and Bradley ends up sleeping with Mav and eats terrible pancakes cutted by little jets because Yale is that good with plastic knife and fork. And then he has this kid who's not taller than his knees that looks at him like he's his whole world and calls him dad and hugs him and oh oh god baby goose it's all okay, it's going to be okay;

- You look old dad. Were we separeted for so long?, baby goose asked, when they're both sitting by Mav. Papa looks old too, he has a lot funny lines over his face, but his voice is the same. Yours isn't what I remember it was! How could we be separated for so long? My stomach hurts so much when I think we dowhen I think we were apart! It's okay if you or papa can't take me up on your shoulder again, I still love you but please please I don't want to miss you anymore! Mav finds them like that, Bradley on Ice's lap, both of them crying softly and hugging each other. We're together now baby, everything's gonna be okay, papa and dad are here he murmurs kissing Ice's forehead and messing with Bradley's curls. We're going to fix this and when you'll be big again we're going to fix it all, I swear;

-It takes the aircraft five days to get back to coast and all the barracks are too small but the captain leaves the three of them his quarters and they sleep half on the floor and half of the bed, cuddling with baby goose and Mav feels like he's thirty again and nothing got wrong again. Ice kisses him a little harder and the whole world discovers them but it has so little relevance because, even if just for a little longer, they just want to enjoy what life gave them;

- Being ashore, with a kid between his arms and his husband's arm around his wrist, is probably one of the strangest sensation Mav ever felt. He dreamt of it for years, every time he was back from deployment and Ice had to wait him home because not even taking Bradley with him could justify their reaction. But now he has it all and they're going home;

- They fall asleep in front of the TV, dinner forgot on the table a couple of feels from them, baby Goose cuddling between Ice and Mav's chest. The next morning Bradley is back to being himself, and his first reaction is to run because that's Mav and Ice and he supposed to be resenting them but he can't move. Doesn't want to, at least for a little longer.

Loosely inspired by this fic.

#i want a cheeseburger and fries but i'm eating a chupachups :/#tom iceman kazansky #pete maverick mitchell #bradley rooster bradshaw #de-aged #magic au #the dagger squad #post-mission #sharing prompts with vi>>>>>>#loosley based on a ff on ao3!#just rumbling around #found family #icemav + baby goose #top gun: maverick #otp: things get old our love is gold

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victimofthemusic · 2 years

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take me where i want to go (put my body in the danger zone)

part 1 of the i need a man to make me (sweat) 'verse :)

Rooster shows Hangman that sometimes, going slow isn’t such a bad thing *

Or the edging fic no one asked for. Literally. No one asked for this.

Author note:

I can't get these two out of my head. They're literally IceMav 2.0.

This fic is product of reading too much Rooster fics on tumblr and listening to Man to Make Me Sweat by Leslie Powell, which is literally just Rooster and Hangman's theme song tbh, so much so that even Glenn Powell's sister agrees.

Title is taken from the song.

To E, who saw the movie first and literally thought, "just wait until B gets a load of these fuckers." and is sad about the lack of Rooster/Hangman fics.

You're welcome ;)

Please, enjoy :)

"Roo,” Jake pleads, tangling his fingers in Bradley’s sweat matted curls. “Please.“

He feels Bradley’s grin on the sensitive skin of his neck, the way the bristly hairs of his mustache drag across his heated skin. “Patience, baby.”

He follows it up with another slow, measured thrust of his hips, the tip of his cock just missing where Jake wants him most and he whimpers, bucking his hips. “Sadist.”

Bradley huffs a laugh, warm breath ghosting over his skin in a phantom caress. “Maybe a little.” He allows, somehow managing to sound unbothered, even though he’s balls deep in Jake’s ass, cock rock hard and pulsing inside him. “I just like to see you sweat.”

They’ve been at this for what feels like hours, bodies pressed and tangled together in damp sheets, lips tasting, hands wandering along sweaty skin, moans and sighs harmonizing together in the otherwise silent room, Bradley’s cock fucking into him slow and deep.

He’s brought him to the edge four times, letting him linger in the free fall for a few blissful seconds, before he brings him right back down to Earth, taking away the sweet release his body is screaming for.

Bradley sucks another bruise into his neck, adding to the road map of love bites he’s left behind already. They say Bradley Bradshaw was here and Jake wears them like a badge of honor. His calloused thumb drags across an already pebbled nipple and Jake lets out a breathless whine, cock kicking out another spurt of precum on his belly that Bradley drags his fingers through; collecting the mess on his fingertips and Jake watches through hooded eyes as he brings them to his lips, pink tongue darting out to lick them clean, humming.

“God, you taste so good, sweetheart,” Bradley whispers, hazel eyes flickering with the flames of his desire, a bead of sweat rolling down the side of his temple that Jake wants to immediately lick away. “Here,” he murmurs, swirling his fingers through what remains and bringing them to Jake’s parted lips. “Taste yourself.”

Jake makes a show of it; lashes fluttering, swirling his tongue around the calloused fingertips, before wrapping his lips around them and sucking them into his mouth, letting his tongue drag against the digits, moaning at the taste of Bradley and himself and Bradley rewards him with a groan of his own and a rough thrust that nails his prostate dead on, making his whole body quiver.

“Oh,” Jake pants, Bradley’s fingers slipping from his mouth. “Oh fuck, right there.”

“What? Here?” Bradley asks, eyes dancing with mischief, kiss bruised lips pulled into a shit eating smirk as he fucks into him, once, twice, three times, cock head nudging against his prostate with each plunge of his hips and Jake’s fist tangles in the sheets, pleasure zinging down every nerve ending, his other hand scratching nails down Bradley’s back as he scrambles for leverage.

“Yes, yes, please—Roo, oh fuck—“ Jake whimpers, bucking his hips in response, almost weeping with relief when Bradley lets him, grinding into the cradle of his hips as spark dance across his eyelids like fireworks with each drag of Bradley’s cock head against his prostate, muscles coiling, heat trickling and he’s right there, he’s so close—

—but Bradley backs off, almost slipping out of him as he stops moving all together and Jake lets out a mixture of a groan and a sob as his body collapses back against the sheets, muscles fluttering, cock pulsing, from once again being denied release.

Bradley tuts, running teasing hands down his sides, his flank, the tops of his thighs, each touch burning like a brand, the workworn calluses catching and dragging deliciously in a mixture of pain and pleasure against his over sensitive skin.

“Not so fast, baby,” Bradley chides, smirk making his mustache lopsided on his handsome face. “I’m not done with you yet.”

“You’re making me crazy, Roo,” Jake breathes, chest heaving. “Please let me come. I feel like I’m gonna die if I don’t.”

Bradley chuckles, breath warm as it fans over chest, right over his nipple that he takes into his mouth, teeth teasing over the bud in a way that makes Jake shiver and whine at the sharp sting that ebbs and pulses into a sensation that makes his head spin.

“We can’t have that, now can we?” Bradley murmurs, kissing his way up Jake’s chest, his neck, the tip of his chin and then finally his lips, licking into his mouth, tangling their tongues together, sucking teasingly in a way that makes his toes curl and his body sing with desire for this infuriating man on top of him. “Just a little longer, baby, I promise I’ll get you there.”

When? Jake wants to scream, but he begins to move again– entle, shallow thrusts that stoke the embers burning low in his belly, coaxing them into full feldges flames, building him up, up and Jake sighs blissfully, wrapping his arms around Bradley’s slick shoulders, nuzzling his nose into the smooth skin of his soft cheek, lashes leaving butterfly kisses across the damp skin.

“God, you feel so good.” Bradley murmurs, tone reverent as he lets fucks into him deeper, dogtags dragging against his chest in a cool caress. “Like you were made for me.” He breathes, nuzzling into Jake’s neck. “I could fuck you for hours, baby.”

He picks up his pace, just a little, thrusts deeper, grip tightening on Jake’s hip to anchor himself as he moves in a fluid rhythm that makes heat pool low in his belly and his fingers twist in the hair at Bradley’s nape.

“You have been,” Jake can’t help but point out, huffing out a laugh when Bradley pinches his hip in admonishment.

“Brat,” Bradley mutters without heat, tone dripping with fondness

“You love me,” Jake breathes out against Bradley’s cheek.

“Yeah, I do.” Bradley breathes back, caressing Jake’s cheek, kissing the tip of his nose, hazel eyes warm pools of affection. “You have no idea how much.”

Jake’s heart swells, making it feel two sizes too big for his rib cage. “Yeah? Tell me.” He encourages, eyes fluttering when Bradley obliges him, lips pressed against his ear as he pants.

“I love your body, how it takes me so well,” Bradley whispers, fucking into him for emphasis. “I love your smile, the way it lights up a room.” He tangles their fingers together, giving them a gentle squeeze. “I love your hands, the way you fly a plane, the way they look on the piano when I’m teaching you to play.” He presses a kiss to his forehead. “I love how smart you are, the way you have a reply for everything. You never shut up.” He kisses his lips. “Your mouth. Fuck, I love your mouth. When you kiss me, when you let me fuck those pretty lips of yours,” Jake moans and Bradley smirks. “I think you love that, too, don’t you, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” Jake breathes, because he does, God, he does.

Bradley hums, kissing his lips, his nose, his cheeks. “I know you do. And you’re so good at it, too, baby. Fuck.”

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” Jake whispers, seeing an opportunity to turn the tables and seizing it with both hands. “You love it when I drop down to my knees and take you into my mouth. I bet I look really pretty with my lips stretched around your cock, don’t I, Roo? Maybe you should take a picture, so you can show me sometime.” Bradley groans, hand flexing on his hip as he fucks forward, like the image is too much for him to bare and Jake grins, upping the anter. “Or maybe you can let me do it in front of the mirror so I can watch myself, see the way your cock slides down my throat—“

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Bradley moans, hips bucking. “Next time, baby. Next time I’ll take you in front of the mirror, so you can see, just how good you look, how desperate you are to get a cock in your mouth—“

“Only for you,” Jake pants, body on fire at the mere thought. Jesus H Christ. “Just for you.”

“That’s right, baby,” Bradley agrees, speeding up his thrusts. “This is all for me, I’m the only one who gets to see you, touch you—“

“Yes, yes, yes, God, Bradley—“ Jake whines, bucking his hips, seeking friction. “And you’re mine.”

“Yours,” Bradley agrees, control slipping, bed shaking with the force of his hips as he drives into him, over and over and over, fucking him in earnest. “All yours.”

“Let me come,” Jake pleads as he feels the pressure building again, but it’s faster this time, rising up from the depths of his very soul, making his body shake and his toes curl. “Please let me come—please, please—“

Bradley moans, picking up the pace, thrusts deep, rough, hips angling downwards, the tip of his cock brushing against his prostate. “God I love it when you beg me—fuck, yes, you can come baby, wanna see it—“

Heat blooms, climbing from the tips of his toes to the bottom pits of his belly to the tips of hair, Bradley’s name a sob on his lips as his cock pulses and he comes, shuddering in Bradley’s arms as the heat swirls and dances through every nerve ending in his body, tears springing to his eyes at the intensity of it, like hitting 10 Gs right off the bat, mind wiping out as he feels Bradley pulses inside him, painting his insides white with his own release, his name a prayer on his lips as he rides it out, thrusts slowing to gentle rocks, dragging out the dregs of pleasure until Jake whimpers with oversensitivity, squeezing Bradley’s shoulder to get him to stop.

It takes him a minute to come back to himself, feeling almost drunk with fatigue and pleasure, boneless against the sweat soaked sheets as he floats back down to the ground with each heaving breath. He feels like he’s run ten miles or spent all day going Mach 10 through the clouds–wrung out and sore, but wanting more of that high.

Fingers caress his cheek, lips brushing gentle kisses along his neck, his shoulder and Jake doesn’t hesitate to snake his arms around Bradley, cradling him to his chest, hearts beating in tandem as they breathe, coming back down to the Earth together.

“Okay?“ Bradley murmurs, lifting his head up to sweep his eyes over Jake’s face, lips pulled down into a look of concern.

“I’m okay.” Jake reassures him, brushing his sweaty curls off his forehead. “You okay?”

Bradley hums, leaning into his touch, whiskey brown eyes warm and content under dark lashes as he gazes down at him adoringly. “I’m okay.”

“Good,” Jake whispers, giving his hair a gentle tug, raising his chin in askance and Bradley smiles, leaning down the rest of the way to press their lips together in a kiss that oozes with tenderness, making Jake’s chest warm and his heart fluttering like a hummingbird’s wings.

“You look good, Hangman.” Bradley whispers when they part, resting their foreheads together.

Jake grins, pressing another kiss to Bradley’s lips. “I am good, Rooster.” And then another, this one longer, filthier, filled with intent. “I’m very good.”

Bradley grins back, bright and downright beautiful and Jake rolls them over, pinning him to the bed with his hips. “Now, it’s my turn to see you sweat.”

“Promises, promise,” Bradley murmurs, gasping when Jake’s fingers wrap around his cock, already half hard and getting harder with each long, slow stroke of his hand.

“Oh, sweet, Roo.” Jake purrs, pressing another slow, dirty kiss to his parted lips, flicking his tongue inside just to get a taste. “You have no idea what you’re in for.” Jake’s other hand wraps around the long ago discarded bottle of lube, flicking it open with his thumb and letting it pour into his hand. “You better fasten your seatbelts, baby,” He murmurs, trailing slick fingers down between Bradley’s thigh. “Because I’m about to take you on a wild ride.”

Bradley’s eyes are pure heat, chin jutting out in that stubborn way that makes Jake either want to kiss him or punch him and some days, he genuinely can’t decide between the two, grin cocksure and full of challenge.

“Give it your best shot, sweetheart.”

Jake’s answering grin is downright sinful. “Sure thing,” He murmurs, pressing another kiss to his delectable lips, right as a lube slick finger breeches Bradley’s hole. “Lieutenant Commander.”

Bradley’s answering moan is swallowed up by another kiss and Jake’s victorious smirk.

Author's note:

I'm planning a longer series with these two, a 5+1 where these two have sex in all kinds of crazy places because they can't keep their hands off of each other, but I had to get this fic out of my system first.

Top Gun was one of my original fandoms I've ever been a part of and I'm so happy to be back, writing what I love most. Gay enemy pilots to gay lover pilots.

Until next time :)

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