#carole x mav

[military-newsboys]

Goose: I wonder if different brands of shampoo taste different Mav: They do Goose: Ice: Slider: Mav: Wait, ask me again and I'll hesitate before answering this time.

[paxdracona]

Goose and Carole absolutely made it their mission to love on Mav so hard he'd be too bowled over to even attempt to put on a cocky flirty persona for them (most of the time). Add little Bradley to the mix and Mav never stood even the tiniest chance ♥

(i'm decreeing that this is an Everyone LIVES au and a few years later Mav brings a slightly bewildered Ice into the fold because I love everyone loving each other okaY)

[ever-changing-fandom-bomb]

[gaydaroreilly]

If Mav was a menace growing up in foster care, imagine Mav growing up with his dad and a bunch of feral bisexual doctors (MASH guys duh)

Duke: tries to do some weird birds and bees shit a la the 1970s

Mav: hey dad, I think I like boys too

Duke: fuck, I need reinforcements…Pierce is gonna be so smug about this!

Hawkeye: as a medical professional with experience in both departments, I will take it from here…just ask Radar—I taught him all he knows…

A few years later Mav brings Ice around to meet his extended family, and

Hawkeye: did ya use protection boys, wouldn’t want anyone to end up pregnant and shackled to a disgusting military person forever like my daughter Carole…

Carole: shut up dad you love Goose and Bradley!

Trapper: We’d love your Bradshaw more if he wasn’t in the navy, we do love the little grandbaby though *tickles baby Bradley’s tiny little toes*

Mav: you’d get such good head if you left the navy ice…

Duke: okay everyone please shut up

[ultimatedirk]

goosemavcarole wip <3

[friend-lover-traitor-narrator]

Masterlist - Top Gun Fics

Please read the tags for each individual story!

(* contains smut as part of the story)

(** (mainly) smut)

ICEMAV

I Think We're Alone Now* (multi-chapter, on-going)

Like No Time Has Passed At All** (one-shot)

Next Time Then** (one-shot)

We've Got Tonight (one-shot)

The Man You Are (genderfluid!mav, one-shot)

HANGSTER

Weekend Trip* (multi-chapter, complete)

Stupid Enough (one-shot)

Series: Californian Country Boys

Forever and For Always (one-shot)

No One Needs To Know (one-shot)

ICE X MAV X GOOSE X CAROLE

Ocean of Love* (multi-chapter, on-going, on hold until I feel able to write smut again)

MISC PAIRINGS & GEN

Flufftober 2024

[Last updated: 10/09/2024]

[pollyna]

So, hear me out. Bradley knows about the Iceman but doesn't know him.

He's the friend Uncle Mav takes for important dinners once in a blue moon, and Bradley feels awkward around him because the man is tall, even if not the tallest man in his young life, and even if his mom tells him to go say hi, he hides behind Mav's leg and spends most of the night looking out at this man like he is some sort of mythical creature who not only knew his dad, Nick, but flew with him too. There's a picture in moma's bedroom of the five of them: moma, dad, uncle Mav, uncle Slider, and the Iceman.

Iceman is the man that Bradley hates a little bit because when he ships out, Uncle Slider wakes up at actual dawn, and Bradley can never get back to sleep because then his mom gets up too, and Uncle Mav really really tries to walk around on his tips when he comes through the door with him, but Bradley is awake. And it's too soon for him. So he has the right to hate him a little bit because of that.

In the years to come, the Iceman is going to be a voice over the phone, a sporadic presence over their table, and the person who will make Uncle Slider, who he calls Papa these days, cry like a baby the day he and his mom got married. And he's going to be the person with whom Uncle Mav sometimes disappears for weeks at a time, sometimes even months, coming back generally more tanned and happy than Bradley can remember him even being. He is the man who sends letters and postcards that his mom pins on the fridge and the man who makes his Papa leave the house at 2 am because his plane had been shot down and nobody knows shit about what happened. He's the man who forces him to wear his suit because of the medals and all that, and he has to go, especially if they are in the afternoon. (It's that Iceman forces him in the suits, nope, that's all his mom's work).

So yeah, he knows of the man, but he knows very little of him, and maybe he spent about twenty hours in his presence and company in his sixteen years of life. Then, during a party, some of his classmates ask if his uncle Mav is single because her aunt is interested in him, and Bradley doesn't know how to answer. When he asks his mom that same afternoon about Mav's love life, she shrugs and says, "He has someone, baby goose, had for a long time," and that's all he gets out of her, besides a single long look at the photo of Mav and the Iceman.

Something happens in the two years he and uncle Mav don't talk because something stupid Bradley said and something equally stupid Mav answered, and Mav writes to him a lot—letters, mail, and even a wedding invitation he sees five months later because he was away for his training and didn't switch postal codes. He doesn't open it because he's still angry with him, and his mom is so fucking disappointed with Bradley because "he got married and you weren't there". This thing hunts him for a long while, until he doesn't see Mav by chance when he gets assigned to Top Gun for the first time. He's wearing his wedding band, and he smiles sadly at him before saluting a superior and disappearing in the crowds, talking away with the base commander.

(It takes another half a year before they reconcile, but Mav doesn't talk about his spouse, and Bradley doesn't ask. He hears, thanks to the gossip vines, that the Iceman is getting his second star, and his mom talks, with Papa about his white hair and how distinguished he looked, during a barbecue the week before. Papa laughs and says, "Yeah, I'm sure he thinks exactly the same.")

But then he gets to know the Iceman, and not only of him after the mission, after he and Mav almost died, the man himself, with four stars on his shoulders and enough commandments on his chest to make the jacket look really heavy to wear, came to salute them on the bridge, shaking hands with every pilto and exchanging a couple of words with Mav himself. They are back on the land, Mav is sleeping in the back of the Bronco when they arrive home, and Carole and Ron are already at the front door waiting for him, talking with a guy sitting on the patio swing.

"Hey Mav, we are here," he says, gently shocking the man.

It almost happens all too fast, considering Uncle Mav is injured, and he's limping because his ankle is in a cast. He wakes up and looks around like he doesn't know where he is, but then his eyes focus on the figure who's looking back at him and who's getting up and walking towards them. And oh god, the Iceman is there, the fucking Admiral is in his backyard, and he's walking towards his car, but his eyes are on the person behind him, who's trying to get out of the car without killing himself.

"Kazansky, fancy finding you here," Mav starts, straddling himself against the Bronco.

"I was in the neighbourhood, so I thought to come by and say hi," he says, all serious but with a smile trying to creep on his features.

"Always a pleasure to see you, Admiral," Mav answers, already taking a step towards him.

"It is always a pleasure to know you are alive, Captain," he said, closing the distance between them, taking his face between his hands, and kissing him slowly.

"Fuck Pete, Jesus Christ, baby, I'm so happy you're home," he murmurs, and Bradley knows he shouldn't be hearing this because it's private and not for his ears. So he slips out of the car, as silently as he can and walks towards his mama and papa who engulf him in the biggest, warmest hug he has received in a little while.

He doesn't know how long they spend like that, hugging each other and not really talking because Bradley is getting all the comfort he needs by only being there, until Mav pats him on the back and says, "Hey B, I want to introduce you to someone."

And Admiral Kazansky smiles at him, not in the polite way he got accustomed to seeing him smile, but in a warmer, more familiar way: "Hi, I don't think you really remember about me, I'm Tom, Pete's husband."

So, at the end of the day, he knows of the Iceman, because of gossip, and knows a little about him because his mom and papa talk a lot about him, but he can say he personally knows Tom Kazansky, the man who married his uncle Pete and who sits in front of him every time they come over for dinner.

[callsignthirsty]

Stuck at the Navy Ball

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

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

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

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

gif originally posted by neuromancer1888

Chapter 1: Under the Table

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

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

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

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

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

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

Singular.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Color you curious. “What’d he say?”

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

”Oh.”

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

“What’s the winner get?”

”Bragging rights.”

”And?”

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

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

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

”That’s quite a lot on the line.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s all for a good cause.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He doesn’t talk about me much.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Next Chapter

[rootheloverboy]

I just know Carol Bradshaw was an ABBA girlie and it breaks my heart that she probably didn't get to see Mamma Mia

[eliashirsch]

[You cry, and you cry, and you cry. An endless rush of grief-pain-suffering escaping your body in a geyser. It seems like it will never end.

But it did. Just like everything else.]

—

The death after the life of one Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell. How he meets his five people and revisits their connection on earth, each bringing a lesson of their own. And most importantly, how he finally learns to let go.

[military-newsboys]

Mav: Like I said, we need more help. Ice: Maybe I should call my friends. Mav: Your what? Ice: My friends. Slider: Is he saying “friends”? Hollywood: I think he’s being sarcastic. Wolf: No, no, no. This is delirium. He’s cracked from being awake all night. Goose: Hey, Ice, all of your friends are in this room. Ice: I have other friends. You asked me to make new friends. I made new friends. It was a task. I complete tasks.

[bearsinpotatosacks]

Starting my "If Mav gets a harem of aviators then Carole gets a harem of beautiful women" agenda with a college au

Modern AU

Carole went to a Catholic school in Texas

She goes to uni in California to study literature and her roommate is one Charlotte Blackwood

Charlie's doing a major in Physics and a minor in Political Science and is one of those students who is always put together, even for the earliest lectures

She has a faculty job, maybe organising events or something

Carole meets Goose, called that for his laugh, through Charlie because he's also studying physics, they start dating

Charlie starts dating Pete, studying Engineering

Ron gets brought in because he's a childhood friend of Goose, Tom is brought in through Carole's book club

Pete starts falling for Tom, Goose falls for Pete, and Carole falls for Charlie

Goose and Carole break up and go for their respective crushes

Pete, now dating Goose and openly having a crush on Tom too, they hook up with aromantic Ron sometimes too, also starts dating Penny

Carole and Charlie give it a go, they both also find one Penelope Benjamin attractive and start to organise their dates to be at the bar

But Pete breaks her heart and Carole's terrified that Penny, not a student, will just go home without anything there to hold her

Charlie calms her down, they go to Penny together and after some talking, they arrange a date, maybe after some healing time, and the crew is almost all together

Pete's break up with Penny awakens him to confess his feelings to Tom

Charlie wears lacey lingerie sets every day and Carole and Penny love it

She also loves to leave red lipstick marks on them both

Sarah visits, either she's at another uni or is working somewhere else, she's an ace lesbian (and Tom's sister) and loves having non-sexual flings with the girls when she's in town

They all gets apartments together, apart from Ron, he enjoys sex and general hang outs with the boys but makes sure there is a boundary for what he's comfortable with

Carole goes on to do a masters and becomes a librarian, Penny stays on at the bar, Charlie gets some government job, Goose does some teacher training and becomes a physics teacher and I'm not sure what the others do but that's all I really have

[ever-changing-fandom-bomb]

Finding funny pictures is hard but I hope you like them. Also if you want I can try to write something funny but I can't promise it will be good.

[bradshawsbaby]

Why does this feel like a picture that Goose and Carole would have taken when Carole was pregnant with Bradley? 🥲

[oh-surprise-its-me]

What are Tom Ron and Chris going to wear to the dagger/flyboy Halloween party? We already know Bradley and Jake are going as a rooster and chickie. I personally think of Tom doing a vampire costume cause that just fits his bitey tendencies.

Absolutely so correct. They do group outfits. They’re insane for each other. Ron likes Halloween because Tom and Chris LOVE it. Ron always does what they ask. But not without a tiny bit of bitching <3

-

Tom was giggling from where he was helping putting in the fake teeth for Chris.

Chris who snaps a bite at Tom’s fingers again only to get booped on the nose. Ron comes into the bathroom with a sigh. “Do I have to put fucking glitter on myself?” Chris snorts and nods. Tom leans back for a kiss, “if you do glitter I’ll let you wear jeans.”

Ron sighed. “Glitter it is then.” Chris whines from where he’s sitting and gestures at himself. Tom leans forward and kisses him on the cheek. “Yes you’re the best husband in the world. You put on the matching husband outfit.”

The timer goes off for the setting material on the teeth. Tom slowly takes his fingers away and Chris closes his mouth. “Oh that’sss weird.” Tom laughs and kisses Chris with a swipe across the teeth. “Hot. We should see if you can bite me later.”

Chris drags his painted red nails down Tom’s chest. “Evil man putting those thoughts in my head.”

Tom grins and slips out into the bedroom. “How’s our Edward doing?” Ron glares at him. “Fucking sparkles everywhere.” Tom gives Ron the soft smile that got them here in the first place. “Baby I really appreciate it.” Ron stares at him, “my god I love you two fools. Come here.”

Tom slips into his arms, “see! Now I’ll be glittery!” Ron glances down. Yeah that’s glitter all right, he bends and kisses Tom. “Our little Vampire.” Chris wraps his arms around Tom from behind. “Our favorite vampire.” Ron nips the side of Tom’s neck. “Do I get to bite you?”

Chris laughs and nods. “I agree. We need turn marks.” Tom opens his mouth and closes it. “Alright go ahead.” Chris and Ron dive in on opposite sides. One goes for high and visible and the other goes for low and subtle. Chris pulls away first licking the mark that’s basically Tom’s jaw.

“Hot. Love you two. I’m grabbing the food and putting it in the car. Don’t be late.” Ron hums from where he’s still biting. His arm shoots out and grabs Chris’s wrist. He pulls away from Tom’s neck sith a kiss to the mark. “Your turn pretty boy. Hold still.” They both dive in high this time.

Ron goes for the middle of the throat while Tom goes for the side. Chris grabs their heads to stay upright. “Oh fuck y’all we should’ve done this when we had time to lose earlier.” The two men pull away. They take turns kissing Chris.

Chris pulls away and goes on his toes to bite Ron. Tom just stands and watches for a second before Ron gently pulls him in. Tom bites with the same enthusiasm.

By the end they look like vampires.

-

Ron laughs when Mav sees them. “Are you the twilight vampire?” Ron tosses an apple at his head. It’s caught.

Mav can’t talk he’s wearing a shitty robber outfit. Tom bumps his shoulder into Mav on the way by, “Carole got the key to those cuffs?” Mav goes red. “Fuck you bitey boy I see those hickeys.”

Chris snorts and fist bumps Mav on the way by. “Is Nick a cop or robber?” Mav shrugs, “robber.” Ron laughs “ah you two get bossed around huh?” Mav punches Ron’s shoulder. “Shouldn’t let you in the house Kerner. You don’t deserve it.”

There’s a cheer from farther inside the house. “Ron come here! Look at Jake!” Ron and Mav grin at each other for a few seconds before going inside.

It’ll be a good party this year.

[friend-lover-traitor-narrator]

Ocean of Love [icemavgoosecarole] - Music was my first love (Ch. 3)

I feel like this will feature much more romance and fluff than I initially thought. I even figured out at least a bit of plot! So I hope I won't crush too many expectations about this but that's how it is now and we'll get to the smut. I promise.

Fanfic Summary: Goose, Mav and Carole are a polycule. Then lce comes into the picture, too, and becomes Mav's boyfriend. It doesn't take long until Mav introduces lce to the group.

Pairing: Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x Tom "lceman" Kazansky x Nick "Goose" Bradshaw x Carole Bradshaw and various sub-pairings consisting of those four.

Content/warnings: 18+, polycule, no cheating, no jealousy, everyone lives, smut, fluff, domesticity, probably not much plot, 80s.

About the chapter: Flirting, fluff and domesticity.

CLICK HERE TO READ!