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callsignthirsty · 2 years

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Stuck in the Middle — Chapter 3 — Both

Co-written with a friend who isn't on tumblr. Pairing: Ron “Slider” Kerner x Reader x Tom “Iceman” Kazansky Summary: The one where Maverick’s sister is on a mission to give her brother a heart attack by sleeping with not one, but two of his colleagues. Word Count: 6400 Warnings: Smut, dirty talk, threesome, creampie(s) Chapter: 3/3 Read Previous Minors DNI

Pete returned home some hours later to find you in a very… festive scarf. Unfortunately for Goose, who had opted to stay with you until Pete arrived, it had done little to hide the hickeys littering your neck. That had been an interesting night.

Little did any of you know that hickeys, unseasonal scarves, and the Iceman would be the least of your worries in the coming days.

A hop gone wrong had you and Carole scrambling to get to the hospital.

They were alive, but it had been a close thing.

Pete was released that same day after a thorough evaluation. Goose was still unconscious. As tears leaked from his eyes, you knew that your brother was blaming himself, but there was little he could’ve done to avoid flying through Ice’s jetwash — Viper had stopped by the hospital to say as much.

You spent one, then two days in the hospital. Classes continued — fly long enough and it happens, they said, but Pete wasn’t ready to go up again. Not without Goose. And on the third day, like a miracle, Goose’s eyes blinked open. “Holy shit.” His voice was scratchy from disuse.

Carole sat upright at his side. “Nick?”

“Mav, where’s my camera?” Goose croaked, ignoring his wife. “There’s an angel by my bed. The guys ‘ll never believe it if I don’t take a picture.” When a nurse entered the room, relieved tears were tracking down a laughing Carole’s face, Bradley smiling in his Uncle Mav’s arms.

On the fourth day, Goose encouraged Pete to return to class because “You can’t let Ice and that big oaf run away with our trophy. They’ll never let us live it down.” Pete had reluctantly agreed when Goose gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry, honey. You’ll do great.”

Pete smiled. “Thanks, dear.”

So the summer continued: hot days spent on the tarmac and by Goose’s side. And then, graduation was just a day away. Goose, unfortunately, wouldn’t be able to attend, but he had enough points to graduate, and Pete planned on going for both of them. You, Pete knew, would be in the audience, and there lay his current predicament:

Iceman.

Well, more accurately: Slider. After he’d returned home from his date with Charlie, Pete got an eyeful of hickeys and Goose’s side of the story. Namely, everything had been fine until Kerner opened his big mouth and burrowed beneath Goose’s skin so that Ice could steal you away.

If Pete had any hopes of keeping you and Ice separated after the commencement ceremony, he needed Slider.

* * *

Classes wrap and Slider is cleaning out his locker when he becomes acutely aware that he's one of two people left in the room. And even though Mitchell's back is to him, years of training and locker room antics mean that Slider knows when he's being watched. But the silence grows long and goes stale to the point that he's almost convinced that Maverick isn't going to say anything — which is a surprise because Maverick always has something to say.

"Kerner."

There it is.

"Mitchell."

"Congrats on the trophy." It must be killing Maverick to say it, and Slider smiles because, yeah, the trophy is his. It feels fucking good. But that's not what Maverick stuck around to say. It isn’t what he’s after.

Slider doesn’t want to drag this out longer than it has to be, so he gets to the point. "What do you want?"

The question hangs while Maverick takes a second to think before speaking — and isn’t that a scary thought? — when he finally spits out: “I have a proposition for you.”

"I don't swing that way."

"What? No." And Maverick spins to shoot Slider a dirty look. "I want your help keeping Ice away from my sister. At graduation."

"Why me?" The million-dollar question, though Maverick doesn't realize it.

"If you're helping me, you aren't helping him," Maverick says like it should be obvious. And, okay, yeah, that’s fair.

"What makes you so sure I'll help you?" Slider can’t tamp down the Cheshire grin at the way Maverick squirms. But besides being his pilot, Ice is his friend, and… well, they aren’t putting labels on whatever this thing is with Mitchell’s sister. "Besides, I think he's earned a little celebration." Hadn't they both? From the look on Maverick’s face, Slider would say his answer is ‘no.’

"I can pay you."

“No, you can’t.” Because even if Mav did have money, which Slider’s sure he doesn’t, his price would be too high. The trophy and a fuck? Pete Mitchell would have to be the richest man alive.

“I heard the guys say you got yourself a girl.” It’s a reach at best, but it shocks Slider into silence. Briefly, he wonders if someone had, in fact, seen the two of you in or on his car. But if that were the case, he doubts Maverick would be talking with him now. “She coming to the ceremony?” Maverick tries as Slider collects himself, trying to come off cool and collected like Ice always manages to.

“She hasn’t decided yet.” A lie. You’ll be there. You wouldn’t miss it for the world. Hadn’t let Maverick and Goose come to Fightertown without you in the first place.

Maverick smiles as if he’s got an idea. An in. “If you help me out,” he says, “you can borrow my bike.”

“Why would I—”

“Ladies love it,” Maverick insists, and Slider ignores him in favor of clearing out his locker. “Even you’d look good on a bike, Kerner,” Maverick tries again. “Everyone does.”

“Hey.”

“Think about it,” Maverick’s voice drops as he sets the scene. “She’s clinging to you as you speed down the road. Wind in your hair. Her arms wrapped around your waist. Tight body pressed all up against your back. And the adrenaline rush—” Mav’s eyebrows raise as if he’s remembering something fondly or really trying to sell the idea “—makes for amazing sex.”

Slider can’t help the smug grin that overtakes him — ice-cold, no mistakes was never his schtick. “Is that right?”

Mav’s smiling too, his head nodding lightly like they’re on the same wavelength. And maybe they are because Slider’s thinking about it. “Mind-blowing.”

Well, if Mav insists. “Alright.”

“So you’ll do it?” Maverick seems almost surprised that it’s worked. Like he hadn’t imagined Slider was, in fact, a man who could be reasoned with.

“Yeah,” Slider confirms, zipping up his bag and knocking his locker shut one last time. “Don’t make me regret this.” He wouldn’t.

* * *

“Gentlemen,” Viper says from the podium with a proud smile. “You came here the best of the best. We made you better.” You sit near the front of the audience, smiling and clapping with everyone else as the speeches finish, and the Top Gun trophy is presented to Lt. Tom “Iceman” Kazansky and Lt. Ron “Slider” Kerner. The new nameplate shines brighter than the others, but maybe you’re biased.

As soon as you can, you’re up from your seat. You go to Pete first; give him a hug and a heartfelt congratulations. Then, when he’s distracted by another graduate asking after Goose, you slip away. You’ve successfully snuck up on Ice’s six and are seconds from giving him a congratulatory kiss when Slider moves to intercept. Time freezes for a moment, and you’re worried that Slider intends to kiss you in front of this crowd — Top Gun trophy still in the hands of the man most of his class knows you to be with. When the moment passes, however, that worry twists into deep-seated confusion.

Ice frowns. “What gives?” Because he’s never known Slider to be a cock-block.

“I’ve got orders.”

“From?” And you can see Pete smirking into his drink as Ice all but demands an answer.

“Mitchell.” You and Ice look at Slider as if he’s grown a second head. “With Mother Goose still in the hospital, he needed some help keeping the Iceman away from his baby sister.”

“And you accepted?” Ice’s jaw clenches.

“Deal’s a deal.” Ice scowls, the look wholly out of place considering the trophy still in his grasp.

“What did he offer you?” you can’t help but ask.

“Not important.” Somehow you doubt that.

The rest of the graduation party is… well, not what you’d expected or hoped for. For one, you’re still there. Every time you try to get close to Ice, either Slider or Pete gets in your way. And this is worse than Pete and Goose because Slider is intimately aware of all your evasion maneuvers — he’d helped you come up with a good number of them.

You’re positive you’re going to scream when Viper swoops in with actual orders. Jester hands envelopes to Ice, Slider, Hollywood, and Wolfman. And Pete.

Before anyone can stop you, you wrap Ice in a hug. You throw your arms around Slider next, then Pete, who can’t be mad when you’re squeezing him like this might be the last time you get to. The “be safe” you whisper into his ear means more after Goose’s accident, but you don’t have time to talk about it before they’re all whisked away.

* * *

Maverick doesn’t want to give Slider his bike when they return to Fightertown. Says he’d barely had to work for it since they’d left the graduation party early.

“A deal’s a deal, Mav,” Slider says, but it’s gentler than it would’ve been a week ago. Mav and Ice are wingmen now, so Slider’s trying to be nice. Not too nice. Not I’ll-stop-fucking-your-sister nice — and Slider supposes that’s the one that counts the most — but nice-nice.

It’s a start.

You’d received no fewer than three phone calls, so you’re not surprised to hear the motorcycle roll up to the curb. What does surprise you is Slider at your door with Pete’s keys in his hand.

“Come on,” he says as he gathers you in his arms until you can feel the solid ba-dum of his heart on your cheek. “We’re going for a ride.”

It feels strange climbing onto Pete’s Kawasaki behind Slider, but as the engine roars to life and you wrap your arms around his middle, you’re confident you’ll enjoy it while it lasts.

Slider pulls over at a roadside diner. Ice is already inside, fingers drumming against a table in the corner and Academy ring glinting in the sun when Slider holds the door open for you. He beams when he sees you and makes room beside him at the booth. It seems only fitting to sit beside him since you’d been clinging to Slider moments ago.

The three of you catch up over food and a shared milkshake. Ice and Slider tell you what they can about the mission: the tight bunks, the awful food, the budding friendship with your brother. In exchange, you give them the latest on Goose’s progress in physical therapy. It’ll be a long road to recovery, but if anyone can do it, you know it’s Goose.

When you’re ready to leave, Slider wants to take you out for a spin — after all, he’s been assured that the ladies dig a man on a bike, and he wants to test that theory.

Slider would rather swallow glass or wait in line at the DMV than admit it out loud, but Mav’s right. The warm press of you along his back, small hands clutching at his waist as the engine hums between your thighs, is something else. Ice isn’t thrilled to see him climb onto the bike with you, both sans helmet, and insists on trailing behind the bike in case something goes wrong. It won’t, but whatever makes Ice feel better, Slider supposes.

And although his tailing had started as a protective compulsion, Ice quite likes the way you look wrapped around Slider — your hair a wind-tousled mess and jacket snapping in the wind.

It’s purely coincidence when you spot Charlie’s Porsche at a stoplight; its top down and a familiar head of cropped black-brown hair behind the wheel. At first, Pete offers Slider a cheeky grin, a friendly wave, and then — out of curiosity, you’re sure — his eyes slide to the back of his bike. You can’t bring yourself to hide your face, frozen when Pete’s eyes lock on you and almost bug out of his head, his smile dropping and face ashen with sudden realization. Slider’s laughter reverberates through your chest. The light chooses that moment to turn green, and Slider takes off.

Over your shoulder, Ice honks when Pete refuses to move, a smug smile on his lips as he zips after you.

When you return to Ice and Slider’s place, you rest your cheek in the space between Slider’s shoulder blades, your own shoulders shaking as your mirth bubbles over, and soon you’re shaking from the rush of it all.

Cat’s definitely out of the bag now.

Once the door is open, Slider gets to work. By the time Ice walks in, Slider already has your back against the wall, lips taking yours in a bruising kiss as adrenaline courses through your veins. His big hands slide beneath your shirt to cup you over your bra. Damn Mav, but he’s right. And, as your fingers catch in his shirt-back and pull him closer, Slider has zero intentions of letting you go anytime soon. Not when he’s got you exactly where he wants you. Definitely not when each slide of his tongue over yours teases cute noises from the back of your throat.

Ice must be thinking something similar because he’s quick to join you. His fingers find yours tangled in Slider’s shirt to help you lift it until the RIO has to break your kiss to take the offending garment off. It’s a mistake that Ice takes full advantage of, stealing your lips in a kiss of his own.

Hands resting on your hips, Ice guides you around until he’s the one leaning against the wall. He’d wrap an arm around your waist to tug you closer, but Slider is already plastering himself to your back, so Ice settles for a deep kiss and revels in the wanton noise it earns him.

Without the sweet distraction of a kiss, Slider works your jacket down your arms and into a heap on the floor. He takes your hands in his and leads one into his hair; the other he guides down until it’s slipping under the loose hem of Ice’s shirt. Ice jolts at the skin-to-skin contact and your answering moan gets lost between the slick slide of lips and tongues. Your teeth clack against Ice’s when Slider presses his hips into yours with a sinful grind that drags his cock against the swell of your ass as he finally sucks a mark into your neck — consequences be damned. But instead of pulling him away, the hand in Slider’s hair encourages him. You tilt your head to the side and re-slot your lips against Ice’s while giving Slider more room to work a deep bruise into smooth skin.

One of Ice’s hands cradles the back of your head, his lips working insistently against yours as your hand trails fire over his abs and up to his chest. Perfect teeth catch on your bottom lip and you break apart panting, but then Ice pulls you back for more greedy kisses. His other hand grabs one of your belt loops and uses it to pull your hips away from Slider’s so they’re flush with his own.

While Ice keeps your mouth occupied, Slider’s hands return to the thin material of your bra. He’s growing more impatient with each of your whimpers, the steady roll of Ice’s hips pushing your ass back against his erection which, to Slider’s exasperation, is still trapped uncomfortably beneath the rough denim of his pants. With a barely-there nip that erupts goosebumps across your shoulders, Slider rucks your shirt up until it’s bunched beneath your arm, but Ice refuses to stop kissing you — whether because he’s a greedy bastard or because he’s skeptical that Slider will steal your lips away the way Ice had was anyone’s guess.

The sharp rip of tearing fabric wrenches your lips from Ice faster than anything else Slider could’ve thought up, your nipples pebbling as cold air assaults your heated skin. “Hey!” you scold as the fabric falls limp to the floor.

“I’ll buy you a new one,” Slider promises as he unhooks your bra with deft fingers and grabs your chin to pull you in, licking at your lips before taking them in another harsh kiss. You let yourself be turned from Ice to chase the feeling of Slider’s lips claiming yours. Behind you, Ice flings your bra to the side and hastily removes his own shirt.

Slider may be driving, what with the way he has both you and Ice trapped against the wall, but Ice is far from passive. The two join forces in an all-out assault on you from both sides. Hands bumping as they knead and tease and take you apart piece by delicious piece. Teeth scraping against your collarbone. Your nipples pebbling between calloused fingers. Chests heaving. Lips smacking. The sweet friction of denim dragging over denim as you all move together. Sighs, growls, and groans lost between teeth and tongues. The mixing taste of them on your tongue as they push and pull, give and take.

You shiver, moaning into Ice’s mouth as he plays with your tits. Not to be ignored, Slider shoves a hand down the front of your jeans, two fingers working deep into your dripping cunt. Then Slider’s fingers are gone, and before you can say something in protest, you squeal as he throws you over his shoulder. “Ron!” you giggle, another excited shout leaving you as one of Slider’s hands lands playfully on your ass and he turns to bite at your hip just above the line of your jeans as he moves the party to the bedroom.

Slider throws you onto the bed, and you bounce before settling tousled among the pillows. Your thighs fall open in a wanton display, and you crook a finger to reel Slider in until he’s licking a path from your open zipper and up to nibble at your jaw until he’s stretched over you. You moan at how he fits so snugly between your legs and his chest rubs against your own.

“How do you want to do this?” Ice asks, leaning against the doorframe, his arms flexing none-too-subtly when your eyes find him over Slider’s shoulder. He’s a sight to behold — cheeks a slight, breathless pink, arms crossed beneath his chest, belt buckle weighing down the open flap of his pants to reveal more smooth skin and the tented white of his briefs. You lose sight of him when Slider turns his head.

“You can take her mouth since you’ve been hogging it all night.” Slider kisses your cheek, his dark eyes on your as he crawls back down your body. “I’ve been thinking about this pussy for days.”

Ice crosses the room with unhurried steps, long fingers caressing your jaw. “Is that what you want?” he asks, thumb tracing your full bottom lip while Slider mouths at your hip bones. The RIO’s hands slowly pull your jeans and panties down to savor the moment. You bite your lip, briefly catching Ice’s thumb before he pulls it back. A flush of heat travels through you as Slider’s eyes meet your own and he presses a final kiss to your hip bones before he ventures lower.

When you nod, Ice pulls his cock free, eyes never leaving yours as he pumps himself lazily and kicks the rest of his clothes all the way off. Opposite him, Slider grips your leg behind the knee and raises it, revealing the diamond of your cunt. You keen, fingers threading through Slider’s hair and hips jerking as his tongue drags over your core. Lightly stubbled cheeks rub against your sensitive thighs and set them aflame as Slider’s eyes blow wide, his breath fanning over your clit before he gets to work.

Not to be forgotten, Ice’s fingers return to your jaw, light but with enough pressure to turn you back to him. His cock hangs heavy between his thighs as the bed dips to accommodate him. As he rubs the head across the seam of your lips, Slider pushes his tongue against your slick folds with a groan. You’re buzzing, jaw falling open with a sweet noise, and Ice gives into the temptation to tap his cock to your tongue before pulling back and smearing saliva and precum across your cheek.

Unprompted, you take the tip between your lips, tonguing at the slit to savor Ice’s taste before trying to work more of him into your mouth. Slider watches from between your thighs as Ice lets out a low groan, his hand falling into your hair as you work his cock in and out of your mouth. All the while, Slider’s tongue continues to fuck into you, a finger coming to rub spit and arousal into your clit until you’re trembling, hips seeking out the slick press. Slider slips a finger into you alongside his tongue, reveling in the way that Ice’s cock slips from between your lips as you unabashedly moan, thoroughly distracted from your current task.

Distantly, Slider thinks that the real surprise isn’t that Hollywood and Wolf had heard you; it’s that it took them so long.

Ice brings one of your hands up to fist around his cock, his eyes glued to Slider as he continues to wring more wanton cries from you.

Slider smacks his lips. “She tastes good.”

“Yeah?” Ice’s Adam’s apple bobs.

Slider takes another lick that’s purely for show, his chin covered in your juices. “Sweetest pussy there ever was.” Ice groans as he imagines it, cock twitching as he thrusts into your fist, and Slider ducks down to suck on your clit before he asks: “Want a taste?”

“Fuck yes.”

Slider stands back and practically rips his pants off while Ice takes his place between your thighs. Ice throws your legs over his shoulders before diving in and drinking his fill. He groans as the tang of your sex explodes across his tongue, your heels digging into his back. Slurps at your dripping cunt with a fervor that makes your back arch off the bed.

“Please,” you cry.

“What do you want, sweetheart,” Slider asks, suddenly at your side and taking one of your nipples into his hot mouth.

You whine, arching up into Slider and down against Ice’s face. “Fuck me. Please.”

“Well, when you ask so pretty.”

“Don’t worry, baby,” Ice soothes. He scrambles up, already running the leaking tip of his cock through your spit-slick folds. “I’ll fuck you real good.”

Slider raises a brow. “Why do you get to fuck her first?”

“Because I’m here.”

For a moment, you’re worried they’re going to break into rock, paper, scissors. Slider looks ready to get up and do something about Ice taking advantage of his generosity — he’d said Ice could have your mouth, dammit. But before he does, or you can whine for someone to hurry up and fuck you already, Ice’s hand settles on the curve of your waist, and he pushes in. You groan. Slider drops back against the bed and rolls his eyes. He shouldn’t be surprised; Ice always gets what he wants.

As the jut of Ice’s hips settle against you, Slider takes your lips in another kiss, his hands kneading at your tits. It isn’t his first choice, but Slider can be content with this — swallowing your needy moans, tracing the outline of your lips with his tongue. Making up for the time he’s lost with your mouth to Ice’s greed.

Each rock of Ice’s hips causes your tits to jump the slightest bit within Slider’s large palms and against his tongue as he sucks on a perky bud and applies gentle pressure with his teeth. Before his lips find yours again, his hand trails up your chest and applies gentle pressure to your neck. You shiver, arching into the touch. Slider loves the dazed expression, the slack ‘o’ of your spit-glazed lips when you wear his hand like a necklace, and your eyes brim with rampant desire. He dives in to leave a mark just below your jaw, reveling in the way that you dig your nails into his hair and the way your head is thrown back, and the way you must be clenching around Ice from the strained “fuck” he hears coming from the foot of the bed.

Slider lets out his own punched-out “fuck” when your hand wraps around his cock and strokes. It’s uncoordinated with the way Ice is trying to take you apart and awkward due to the angle, but that’s more than fine. Slider needs something to take the edge off, and your touch is just that. He doesn’t want to finish in your hand. Not tonight.

You bring your lips to Slider’s and let him take the lead while Ice turns his attention to your legs. He lifts one up to his shoulder, and you hum into your kiss at the stretch. Progressively sloppier kisses are pressed from your ankle up your calf. Ice’s new angle has him sinking deeper into you, but he keeps his thrusts slow, the cadence so different from the one you’d had on the beach, but one that — if kept up — he knows will have your legs shaking, back arching, nails scratching. Especially if he keeps hitting that spot.

As it is, your cunt is clenching around him with each forward shove of his hips into yours. Squeezing around him as if to keep him inside of you. Milking him.

With a curse, Ice pulls out, and you break from Slider to whine at the sudden empty feeling. Ice gropes at your hip and offers it a pat before he’s encouraging you to roll over. As you move to accommodate the change in position, Slider grabs you, and you yelp as he manhandles you onto your knees.

“Hey,” Ice says.

Slider just turns you so you’re facing Ice and enters you with a harsh snap of his hips. “My turn.” You want to chastise them, tell them to play nice, but all that comes out is a pathetic mewl. Slider’s smile is haughty. “Still so tight even after Ice fucked you,” he groans as your walls suck him in. Your jaw falls slack, and a pleasured noise tumbles free into the night. When Slider has you screaming, one of his hands fists in your hair. “Come on,” he growls. “Open that pretty little mouth for Ice.” And you do, tongue lolling out over your bottom lip as you look up from beneath thick lashes.

Every time Slider’s hips crash into yours, you’re pushed further down Ice’s cock. Your taste is heavy on his skin, an intoxicating mixture of tang and his musk. Sweet. Salty. You suck more vigorously, hollowing your cheeks as your head swims. When Ice’s hips jerk forward and his cock tickles the back of your throat, you moan long and low. The vibration pulls a shiver from Ice, his fingers whispering across your flushed cheeks and attempting to card through your hair where Slider has it pulled tight.

When Slider nails your sweet spot, you pull off of Ice. “Ah, fuck!”

“That’s right, sweetheart,” Slider preens, releasing your hair to smack your ass. “Want you to let everyone know who’s making you feel this good.” He holds your hips still and grinds torturously into you when you don’t comply.

“God, Ron,” you gasp. “Don’t stop!”

“That’s it, baby,” Slider says. You bite your lip self-consciously, wanting to keep your pleasure from the ears of any passersby.

Ice thumbs your lip free of your teeth. Rubs over the indents left behind until you let out another pathetic whine. “Don’t hold back,” he murmurs. “It’s okay. We want to hear you. Everyone already knows.”

Slider’s hips slam forward. “Now let them all know how good you feel.”

Ice catches you as your arms give out and lifts you up until you’re clutching his shoulders. You kiss him desperately as Slider picks up the pace, the clap of skin on skin filling the bedroom. Slider buries himself in your neck to leave another bruise as you cling to Ice. Your kisses are less lips and more teeth and tongues now, but you couldn’t care less. Ice’s palms caress your sides while Slider’s hands anchor themselves on your hips to pull you back against him with each increasingly desperate thrust. The kisses Ice gives you do little to shut you up at this point, to neither man’s disappointment. You’re stuck between them. Nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide. Nowhere you’d rather be when Ice’s hand leaves your side to play with your clit, delicately circles it as Slider continues to hammer into you.

In the end, that’s what does you in, your head thrown back against Slider’s shoulder as both men work together to take you apart.

Distantly, you’re aware of Slider’s grip tightening enough to bruise, the stutter of his hips, and the garbled curses as he presses tight between your quivering thighs and cums.

Gentle fingers turn your head to the side, and Slider captures your lips in a kiss. Simple. Passionate. His tongue rolls over yours as his hands smooth over your hip bones and down your thighs. He shakes as he soaks in the closeness, your highs still crashing through you.

He pulls you with him as he half lays back against the headboard, cum dribbling from your cunt as his spent cock slips free. You melt back against his broad chest and hum as you settle against him. Slider feels warm, and you still tingle everywhere he touches you.

The bed dips as Ice crawls forward until he’s knelt between your knees, his hands planted against the duvet on either side of Slider’s thighs. “You still up for round two?” Your pussy pulses at the thought, more of Slider’s cum trailing down the crack of your ass. Ice gathers the cum on his middle and ring finger and pushes it back into you with a wet squelch. You can’t help but clench around his long fingers, back arching when one of Slider’s hands presses flat against your lower abdomen and encourages more of his pearly essence to leak out around Ice’s fingers, both of them entranced by the sight.

“Words, baby,” Slider whispers breathless and sated against your ear. “You need him to fuck you?” Ice closes his eyes and groans, his cock twitching red and heavy where it leaks against your thigh. “Need Ice to fill up that pretty pussy?”

“She’s already so full.”

“I can take it.” Your legs circle Ice’s trim waist and drag him closer still. You feel hot as you imagine him spilling within you. Being so full of Ice and Slider both that you can’t possibly keep it all inside. “I want it.”

That’s all that Ice needs to hear. He wastes no time sinking into you right up to the hilt with a sinful groan. Trembles when you cry out, soft and exquisite, your eyes already blissed out but your cunt still so wet and needy, gripping him tight as if you were the one who hadn’t cum mere minutes ago.

Each rock drives you into Slider’s chest. Not to be left out, the RIO’s arms lazily snake around to cup your breasts and tweak your nipples, his lips subdued but no less sizzling as they skim over the marks he left on you earlier.

Ice leans close, his glacial eyes dark and blown wide, lids at half-mast. He catches your bottom lip between his teeth and worries at it until you gasp, releasing it with a slick pop. “Tom.” It’s not a scream like earlier, more a frantic, heady pant, your voice rough as it washes over Ice in all the right ways. It tingles low in his spine and raises goosebumps along his arms until his shoulders bunch with the feeling.

You arch up, away from Slider’s chest but into fingers clamped over your nipples as Ice’s rhythm falters. The wet clapping of your sex is loud between your ears compared to the heavy sighs and the continuous squeak of old bed springs.

Ice gulps. “You’re so sensitive.” It’s true. Every touch feels like fire. Like straight electricity. Like pleasedon’tletgodon’tstop! and Ice’s dentist won’t be pleased with how he’s clenching his jaw. Drawing in ragged breaths and grinding his teeth to make this last even the slightest bit longer. But you’re right there with him.

Slider’s calloused fingers tap against your clit, and you’re gone. A silent scream passes your lips as you pull tight like a bow and release, and Ice snaps with you.

The three of you lie together in a pile of sweaty limbs. Cum and arousal leak thickly down your thigh and onto the bed. Despite the mess, none of you are willing to move. This is the most comfortable you’ve been in weeks. Floating somewhere high above the bed. Ice is your blanket, and Slider your pillow. At least for a couple blissful minutes.

“Alright,” Slider says, nudging none too gently at Ice’s shoulder, “get off. You’re heavy.”

Instead of telling Slider to go fuck himself, Ice rolls his shoulders and peels himself off of you. He marvels at the mess they’ve made between your legs, then moves to get off the bed and start the shower.

The shower, it turns out, is a waste.

You don’t get much sleep that night.

* * *

After breakfast, Ice helps you into his car and drives you to the hospital while Slider wheels Pete’s bike to his housing assignment just a couple doors down. Ice pulls the car to a smooth stop right in front of the visitor’s entrance. He gives you a sweet kiss on the lips, then leans up to place one on your forehead. You breathe him in — spearmint, sunscreen, aftershave.

“Will we see you tonight?” You shrug, resting your forehead against Ice’s shoulder as his hand gently massages the back of your neck. “I’m just a call away if you need me to pick you up.”

“I know,” you say, giving Ice a quick peck before opening the car door and stepping out.

As you get closer to your destination, you become increasingly aware that you’re wearing yesterday’s clothes and one of Slider’s definitely-too-big-for-you shirts. But that doesn’t stop you from slipping into Goose’s room with a knock.

“Look who decided to show up.” Pete’s arms are crossed over his chest, brows furrowed in his patent big brother scowl, but Carole is smiling where she sits at her husband’s bedside, Bradley sitting on his lap. When you don’t say anything, Pete continues: “You didn’t come home last night.”

Goose turns to you, wide-eyed and head bobbing, before falling back against his stacked pillows. They must have already given him his post-PT drugs. “Wait, where were you, then?” Pete glares at his best friend; it takes a minute for Goose's drug-addled mind to catch up. “Oh.” Goose covers Bradley’s ears, then loudly whispers to his wife, “She was having sex with The Iceman.”

“Thank you, Goose,” Pete bites in frustrated exasperation while Carole giggles.

“He wouldn’t have found out if she wore the scarf I bought her,” Goose insists before turning back to you. “Did you show Carole the scarf?” Back to his wife. “It’s a great scarf, hun.” Great was a relative term. He’d bought it from a 7-Eleven.

Carole nods, Goose dopily nodding along with her. “I bet it is.”

“Can we talk about literally anything else?” Pete asks, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Eventually, you’ll have to accept that this is a thing, Pete,” you say. It comes out strong, but internally you’re a quivering mess. You love your brother, but you can’t live your life for him; you have to live it for yourself.

Pete sighs. “I know, it’s just… a lot.” And... yeah.

“I know,” you say. Because it is a lot, and that’s okay. It can be a lot. You just need him to be okay with it. Okay with you.

“It’s just…” Pete shakes his head. “Kerner? Really? Ice, I get, but Slider?” Your cheeks heat, but you refuse to look away even if you’re sure the floor looks incredibly interesting right about now.

“Oh my god,” Goose gasps. “Carole?”

“Yes, honey?”

“Did you know she was sleeping with Slider, too?”

Carole grins, shaking her head. “No.”

“Mav.”

Pete sighs. “What, Goose?”

“Did you know—”

“I’m the one who just told you.” You can’t help but smile at your brother’s displeasure.

“So when we were keeping her away from Ice… was she just off with Slider?”

Pete’s head whips from Goose to you, and this time you give into temptation and study the floor. “Well, we Mitchells aren’t exactly known for our good decisions, are we?” you mumble. Pete can’t help but laugh at that.

“No, we’re not.” And with that, some of the tension bleeds out of the room.

Until Goose bolts upright, almost knocking Bradley from his lap. “We’re at a hospital.” Everyone gives Goose a confused look. He’s known he’s been at the hospital since he woke up — had the doctors switched up his meds? But Goose is staring intently at you now. “Do you need to take a pregnancy test? The nurses gave me this button that I can push to bring them in and– Mav, you okay?”

Pete does not look okay. His face is ashen, eyes wide but unseeing as he slowly slides down the hospital wall.

“Goose, dear,” Carole says with a hand on her husband’s arm as she watches Pete with a careful eye, “you can press the button now.”

“Ahh yisss,” Goose slurs, hugging Bradley close and spamming the nurse-call button.

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topgun-imagines · 1 year

Text

Show Her How It’s Done

Requested: yes

Summary: Slider takes you on a proper first date.

Word count: 0.9k

Note: 2k celebration!

Warnings: none.

Pairings: Ron ‘Slider’ Kerner x fem!reader

Slider heaved out a sigh as he pulled the towel against the back of his neck. Tonight was supposed to be his first date with you, and to say he was nervous would be an understatement. “You’ll be fine,” Ice clapped him on the shoulder. “You’re just thinking about it too much,” The blond collected the rest of his belongings before walking out of the locker room. One last comment was tossed over his shoulder as he left. “Show her how it’s done, Sli.”

Thirty minutes later Slider was standing on your front porch, nervously glancing around the pristine space. A number of flower pots lined the white railing, all growing perfectly despite the California heat. Suddenly, he could hear rustling on the other side of the door. He sucked in a deep breath and straightened up just as you pulled the blue door open.

The breath was knocked out of his lungs as he took in the sight in front of him. You were wearing a flimsy black tank top and a pair of denim jeans. It was a simple outfit but on you, Slider thought that it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

When he heard your quiet giggle, his eyes immediately snapped up to yours as he began sputtering. The weight of the flowers in his hand suddenly seemed heavier than before. He cleared his throat. “These are for you.” He murmured, passing you the small bouquet of lilacs and white baby’s breath. Your heart swelled at the gesture.

Slider waited patiently as you returned inside to put the flowers in a vase. His hands were clasped in front of him and he was staring at the flag hanging from the corner of your porch when you returned.

There was a nervous smile on his face as you locked up. When you turned back to him, his eyes were immediately drawn to the large smile on your face. He stretched a hand out to you. Your fingers intertwined with his as you began walking away from your house.

When Slider had first asked you out, he had assured you that he would plan the perfect date. Meaning that you had no idea where you were going. “So,” you started, glancing up at the tall RIO. “You gonna tell me where we’re going?” There was a light and airy tone to your voice, almost seeming to pull the weight off of his shoulders in seconds.

He glanced down to find your eyes fixed on him. A small smile overcame his face as he turned his eyes back to the sidewalk in front of him. “You’ll just have to wait and find out.” He teased as the two of you stopped at the cross walk.

After walking for a few minutes, Slider finally stopped the two of you across the road from a small, brightly coloured building. There was a large sign beside the door advertising the best ice cream in Miramar. Slider felt a wave of pride surge through him at the sight of your broad smile.

The two of you crossed the street carefully. Slider held open the door for you once you reached the quaint shop. You thanked him quietly, a pleasured sigh falling from you lips at the feeling of the cool air as you stepped into the shop. There was one couple in front of you, which gave you enough time to decide on what you were having.

A large chalk board hung behind the counter, colourfully displaying all the options that were available. “What are you gonna get?” You questioned as you debated between mint chip and cherry garcia. Slider hummed quietly before he made his choice.

“I think I’ll get pistachio and raspberry.” He decided a few seconds later.

Once the other couple had their ice cream, Slider stepped up, ready to order for the both of you. After a few more seconds of debate, you settled on mint chip.

As the two of you stepped aside to wait for your cones, Slider’s hand settled on your lower back, gently rubbing the skin through the thin fabric of your shirt. You leaned against his side as you listened to the waves crash against the shore only a few meters from the ice cream shop.

A few moments later, the older woman behind the counter called Slider’s name. You followed after him as he grabbed the cones from her. You thanked him quietly as he passed you yours. Almost out of instinct, your hand slipped into Slider’s as the two of you exited the shop. The older woman had a knowing smile on her face as the door closed softly behind you.

Slider led you behind the shop. There was a bench built up against it and looking out over the ocean. He gently pulled you down beside him. A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as you ate your ice cream. The RIO had his hand resting on your knee, thumb gently stroking over your exposed skin.

“Thank you for this.” You spoke quietly, as not to disturb the peace that had settled over the two of you. Your head fell against his shoulder.

The hand that was on your knee moved to wind around your shoulders, pulling you closer into his side. “I’m glad you had fun.” He spoke just as quiet. Any doubts from earlier were quickly forgotten as the two of you watched the sun sparkle off of the deep blue water.

A/n: Thank you all for reading! I enjoyed writing this one so much. Requests are open.

Tagging: @alexxavicry @chaoticcassidy @saturnsbabe69 @bbooks-and-teas

Join my taglist!

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dragon-kazansky · 2 years

Text

Hot stuff

Ron 'Slider' Kerner x Reader

Written for @mrsjaderogers

Female reader

Implied smut

♡♡♡

Wherever Ron roamed, you were always close by. It was a given you would be seen together.

Neither of you had labelled this thing between you. It just was. Always had been. If anyone asked Ice what was up with you two he would just respond that you two were just as you were.

Every time you came to the O club, you would be sit right beside him, or, more often than not, in his lap.

It started one night when the bar got crowded and to make more room, Ron asked if you felt comfortable sitting on his lap. You agreed and that was that. It was a fee night after that when he asked you if you wanted to sit in his lap again, but this time it was just a tease.

It made you laugh. You didn't sit in his lap that night, but it wouldn't be long before you found comfort there again.

You had gone to the toilet at one point, and when you had returned your spot had been taken. Ron saw your sadness at not being able to sit with him, so he patted his knee. You got the message and sat in his lap.

That's when it became a regular thing.

Every time you came out with the boys, you would sit in Slider's lap. One pat on his knee and you would sit. His arms snaked around you. You leaning against him. All night.

It wasn't long before this escalated.

You could say you got rather comfortable sitting here.

Now, you and Ron flirted all the time. He couldn't keep his hands off you most if the time. A smack to the ass as he walked past you. Pinned up against the wall and talking dirty in your ear. Roaming hands while talking to friends.

He wasn't shy.

And neither were you, it seemed.

As he laughed with his friends at the table, you decided to tease him a little. If he noticed it right away, he didn't say or do anything. Not until you rolled your hips against him a second time.

You felt him freeze.

You bite your lip and do it again. Ron squirms under you.

Trying to act like you weren't doing something to him, he leans forward slightly. His lips brush your ear.

"If you don't behave, I'll have you here on this table."

You grin, making it look like you were smiling at something that was said. Keeping your voice low, you respond.

"That won't do. We'll make a mess. You could follow me onto the toilets."

Ron let's out a low sigh as you roll your hips against his thigh again. God, he was going to do things to you that would leave you unable to walk for days.

"Ladies first," he whispered.

You chuckle and excuse yourself. Ron watches with hungry eyes as you disappear into the toilets.

A few moments go by and he gets up, heading in the same direction. Ice pretends he doesn't know what he's doing. As much as he loved you both, he didn't need that image in his head.

You're leaning against the sinks as he enters. You smile as crosses the room and instantly kisses you, arms around you.

The kiss is hungry and hot. His hands are roaming over you, touching every inch of you.

His long fingers undress you quickly. He's been itching to get you like this.

His kisses soften for a moment.

"How did I get so lucky?" He asks.

You smile.

"I thought I was the lucky one."

His hungry kisses return again.

Ice watches both of you exit the toilets. He looks at his watch and smirks. You had been in there way longer than you probably intended, and there was no way you weren't fucked out.

You didn't seen to care.

You were smiling up at Ron as he walked with him arm around you. Slider was laughing softly as he whispered things in your ear.

Honestly, it was a surprise either of you got anything done.

Still, you two were perfect for each other and everyone could see it.

#slider x reader #slider top gun #ron slider kerner #ron kerner x reader #ron kerner #top gun #top gun 1986 #implied smut

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randoauthor · 2 years

Text

Venom (T.K)

Pairings: Iceman x Fem!Reader, Platonic!Viper x Fem!Reader

Warnings: so many. PIV. sex, swearing. probably more ;)

Word Count: 2.1k

Author's Note: I for some reason poured my heart into this one and I feel like it's because I was already exhausted and then took some melatonin on top of it so yeah.

Summary: There's a new recruit at Top Gun, a female nonetheless. She drives the boys wild, and her mysterious nature and her off-limits rules make her stand out to the ones that like to play hard to get. The biggest thing they don't know is the one rule of mother nature. What's the one thing Vipers produce? Venom.

MasterList!

"Boys," Viper's voice came through the room, stern and strong. He stood tall in front of all of us his demeanor shifting slightly when the door opened.

Holy shit.

The black hair had been pulled into a tight bun. Her stature was tall, and she appeared closed off in the way of never letting anything on. Her eyes were a piercing blue and her skin was a soft tan. She smiled at the sight of Viper and made her way to the front of the room.

"(Y/N) Metcalf, callsign Venom."

I took a small glance over to Slider whose eyes couldn't be any bigger than they were. A hand shoots up into the air. Viper sends a sharp nod to Maverick's way.

"How off limits is she?" He questioned. A smirk displayed itself across Viper's face as he lead his daughter to a seat in the front row.

"She is very off-limits boys, if you so much as look in her direction I will have your ass packing before you can ask why."

Pete gave a sharp nod before looking over at his buddy, the two of them ogling at her for the rest of the lesson.

By the time we headed to change our first problem arose.

"Where the hell was she supposed to change?" Slider asked, rather loudly.

She chuckled slightly before looking at me. My breath disappeared from my lungs in an instant as her shirt lifted above her head, her bra was a light pink and I learned very quickly that it matched the thong she was wearing too.

Fucking hell.

"She's gonna be the death of me," I whisper to Slider as we get ready just two locker rows down from the beauty that was untouchable.

***

And not only was she beautiful but she could fly better than all of us. It made sense that she was Viper's kid. She was graceful in the air and once she was on the ground you could ask her any question you wanted to ask and shed come up with some kind of an answer for you.

She was magnificent. She was beautiful. She was Viper's daughter.

I couldn't ruin my chance at Top Gun but at the same time, she give me literally every reason to ruin my chances.

Today was no different than any other except for the fact that she didn't have much of a uniform. Not like ours. Her khakis came in the form of a tight pencil skirt that cupped her ass so beautifully that I thanked god every time I saw it.

"Iceman," Viper's voice pulled me from the thoughts I really shouldn't be having.

If she sounds so pretty over the comms I wonder how pretty she'd sound moaning my name?

No, no I can't think like that. If Viper only knew I'd be out of here so fast.

"You're flying with Venom today, Slider has some personal business to attend to." I glance over at her, those piercing blue eyes already staring back at me. I give Viper a nod before preparing myself to be up in the air, alone with her.

"So," she said catching up to me as we head to the locker room, "you've been awfully quiet. The famous Tom 'Iceman' Kazansky, a total ladies' man can't even open his mouth around me?"

I offer her a smile before keeping my eyes straight again. We take the longest in the locker room.

"What's your problem Kazansky?" She sounds frustrated. "I am trying my hardest to show I am interested in you and you don't even bat an eye at me. What the fuck is wrong with you?"

I slam my locker in frustration only to reveal the female pilot, who seemed just as mad as me.

I ran my hands through my hair as I let out a frustrated breath of air.

"Maybe if you let even more hot air out, your head will get smaller." She shot at me, breaking something inside of me.

Within seconds I had her pinned to a locker, my hand gently around her throat as she let out a surprised gasp, her eyes growing wide at my outburst. My other hand finds her waist in a relatively firm grip. I lean in closer, so very close that I can smell the strawberry chapstick she always wore.

"I have been watching you for two weeks now, I have been wanting you for two weeks." I lean in for just a moment for our lips to touch and I was already hooked.

"For two weeks," I say looking into those blue eyes again, "for two weeks I have been wondering what you would sound like moaning my name while I fucked you."

I hear her breath catch in her throat ever so softly and for once I let my mind go wild.

My lips nibble gently at the sweet spot on her neck, my hands applying a gentle pressure to the sides of her throat. Her soft gasp made me want to take her right then and there, but soft footsteps approached.

And Viper opened the door.

He gave us just enough time to look more casual then I felt but I did my best to hide the ever growing bulge in my pants. This girl drove me crazy and the smirk on her face let me know that she knew it too.

"What are you two doing?" Viper questioned with one raised eyebrow.

"Nothing dad," she said in such a soft voice that I fell more to jelly than before. "Iceman and I were discussing strategy, it is you we are going up against after all."

Viper smiled at his daughter and gave a sharp nod before leaving the room in a hurry.

"As for you," she said, attention returning to where it had to be. "I don't fuck pilots usually, but something about you is different." She shot me the prettiest smile I've ever seen. "We can't do anything here it's too risky, I however have an entire floor to myself. Meet me tonight?"

I gave her a nod, a sharp fast nod.

I saw all of her that night. I saw her and I heard her and with every thrust into her I made I drove myself more crazy then the thrust before.

***

It's been two weeks since then, and after the events of today I haven't said a word to her.

We usually go at it every night but tonight was different, tonight was different because we were all forced to take a good long look at how our lives have turned out so far and if we are really okay dying tomorrow because of it.

The Navy was no joke, the things we did on a daily basis, putting our lives on the line.

Lieutenant Nick Bradshaw died today. And I was in the air with him.

I know she's asking about me, I know somewhere right now her father is questioning why she seems so concerned about another pilot.

In his eyes we are nothing more then pilots.

I had been drinking, slider having gone home a while ago just stopping by to see how I was holding up before heading off to the bar to pick up a new girl for the night. By my fourth glass I realized that the knocking wasn't my imagination.

She seemed tired when our eyes met. She had clearly been crying but I was not about to be the one to point that out to her. The sweatshirt she wore was huge on her but she seemed so cozy. I never said anything. Instead I took a step forward and found my hand in the crook of her neck, I lingered for just a moment more before finally allowing my lips to find hers. This time it feels different, this kiss is saying everything she won't.

I could have died today.

"Tom," she says pulling away from me slightly, those damn eyes making me melt again. "Make love to me."

And thats exactly what I did.

I pulled her inside before pressing her softly against the wall, my hands resting on her hips as I lazily find her lips again. This time was so different then the rest, the other times I have torn her clothes off by now, taken her right against this wall. But this time? This time I trail my lips down her neck finding that sweet spot just as easily as day one.

Her soft whimper made my heart beat faster and I grabbed her hand, leading her to the bedroom. God I wish I had fucked her here sooner. I didn't have any lights on, but the slight glow from the streetlights outside gave us just enough of a sense of where we where in the room, enough for her to sit on the edge of the bed. Enough for me to find my way on top of her. My lips found her neck first this time, carefully trailing down to the collar of her shirt.

"May I?" I ask softly, the soft whimper I earn in response tells me everything we need to know. I pull it over her head to reveal that she isn't wearing anything underneath it. I thank god and curse him at the same time.

While on hand finds her breast I let the other hold her close, her chest rises and falls more rapidly as my mouth moves from her neck down her chest, rolling her free nipple between my teeth while my hand gently plays with the other one.

The soft moans she was allowing to escape her mouth were intoxicating. And I knew that while I could continue to drag this out I wouldn't last much longer. I find her lips one more time before pulling myself off her, walking over to the night stand I pull out the empty box of condoms.

"Fuck." I say softly tossing the box to the side.

"It's okay," she smiles, "I'm on the pill."

I stand there for a moment weighing my options before taking my shirt off, discarding it to the floor. My pants eventually find their way to the floor too. She had taken her pants off at some point during my scuffle with the condom box.

I found myself above her again, her naked body proving to be a temple for me to explore and the anguish that was released as I pushed past her folds and plunged deep into her was insane.

I clung to her like she was my final source of oxygen and I was in outer space. I buried my head in the crook of her neck letting all my fear from today vanish within her. Each thrust grew harder as I kept my slow pace, her hands finding my back. At this moment in time I didn't even care if she left marks, I could deal with the torment in the locker room tomorrow. Her soft whimpers danced through my ears and coaxed a few sounds out of me too.

I could feel her nearing her high, after being inside her so frequently these past four weeks I have been able to learn her every move, know her every cue, love her every noise.

And the breathy whimpers she was letting out told me that I was doing everything right. Her hand moves to my forearm gripping it tight as her whimpers turn to shaky exhales of her breath, her eyes rolled into the back of her head and her back arched enough that it her chest met mine.

I held her as she came undone, and with a few more fast strokes I found myself falling apart inside of her.

I rested my forehead against hers before giving her a breathy kiss, both of us trying to find enough oxygen to say anything at all. But we don't. It's not like there is much that could be said, not after today at least.

I pull her close to me again after cleaning ourselves up. The twin size bed not offering us much room to move but neither of us cared. I let her fall asleep listening to my heartbeat. I fall asleep with my hands tangled in her hair.

When I wake up in the morning she is gone, her clothes missing from my floor. I pull myself out of bed a prepare myself for another day when a pair of pink lacy panties catch my eye.

Because they are the same ones she was wearing the day I met her.

I smile before picking them up off their perch, only to find a note sitting underneath it.

Tom,

Last night was different, it was better, it was real. And I want that for the rest of my life. I'll see you in class.

Venom.

Sitting next to her name was a taunt. A taunt consisting of red lipstick in the shape of those lips I love to kiss so much. She is definitely living up to her call sign.

Because she is going to be the death of me.

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#maverick top gun #top gun: maverick #tg:m #top gun #goose top gun #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #top gun movie #top gun 1986 #iceman val kilmer #iceman smut #iceman top gun #iceman kazansky x reader #tom kazansky #nick bradshaw #ron kerner #pete mitchell #slider #maverick

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h-c-u · 1 year

Text

A different type of exercise

Summary: You do your best to convince Slider to come back to bed, but he wants to finish a set before that...

Pairing: Ron "Slider" Kerner x fem!reader

W/C: 1.6k

Rating: +18, size difference, daddy kink

TWs: none

A/N: Porn without plot. Also - don't distract someone lifting weights in real life, it's dangerous af. But beside that - enjoy!

Masterlist | List of tags

You didn't exactly know why your wonderful boyfriend liked to exercise in the middle of the night, and it's not like you were totally against it. What you really hated was waking up and not having him in bed with you...

And this time you woke up already horny and soaked... You didn't remember what you were dreaming about but it must have been amazing, because the feeling didn't want to go away, not allowing you to go back to sleep. And you definitely didn't want to take care of that yourself, when Ron was just in another room.

With a heavy sigh, you got out of bed and went to your home gym wearing only one of his old t-shirts.

He was currently getting ready to lay on the bench and start lifting, with his hands wrapped in tape and everything else prepared.

- Ronnie...? - you said, grabbing his attention, but not enough for him to stop. - Come to bed, I need you... - you knew that just by your tone he could tell that you weren't joking.

- One last set, doll, and I'll be there, I promise... - he replied, finding the right position, wrapping his hands around the bar, and lifting it in the air.

- You don't understand... I need you now... - your voice was low and full of that primal need, but he still assumed that you'll be able to manage 10 more minutes. He was wrong.

Seeing his muscles tense, his whole body working intensely on lowering and lifting the weights just did something to you... On a regular day you could watch his impressive physique for hours, no matter what he was doing, but now... Now watching wasn’t enough, so you slowly came closer to him and stood over the bench, giving him one last chance to stop, but he didn't... So you took matters into your own hands.

- Y/n... - he warned you when you lowered the band of his shorts and got closer to his exposed penis. You always had trouble with fitting his whole cock into your mouth, and you honestly tried to work on your gag reflex, but he was just... so big. Fortunately, you just needed him hard, not even caring how your actions affected him now. - Ffffffuck.... - he said, still trying to finish the set, but he was slowly losing count, with his dick quickly filling up in your warm, soft mouth. Not even half a minute later, you straddled him and with your hand, guided him inside you; he didn't even have time to react properly. Next to extreme pleasure, he felt that he was in real danger of getting stuck under the weights because you were distracting him so much.

So while you were slowly sinking down, taking him deeper and deeper, he finally lifted the bar one last time and rested it on the handles, just as your pussy swallowed him whole.

- Needy little thing... Couldn't even wait 10 minutes... Do you want daddy so bad...? - you eagerly nodded, enjoying the burning stretch without moving just yet, but you knew you wouldn't be able to stay still much longer. - Awww... Poor thing... Daddy's sorry he wasn't there to take care of you when you woke up. - he rose on the bench, changing the angle, which drew a long, deep moan from your mouth. He immediately drank it directly from a source, kissing you with a passion that took your breath away. - And you're taking me so well... Such a good little girl... - he smiled between the kisses and started taking off the shirt you were wearing; he wanted to see the bulge in your stomach and how it will move when you were ready to continue, which didn't take long.

You had to stand on your toes, just to rise enough to get half of him out of you, but you were determined to make it work, so instead of actually getting up, you started grinding against his body, trying your best to stimulate your clit. The sounds you were making were lewd, and he loved every single one of them... You could feel your juices making his pubic hair wet, somehow making them rougher, and the pleasant scratch only added to the stimulation, but even that wasn't enough... Your calves were twitching and spasming, ready to give up. You knew what you had to do...

- Daddy... - you were a mess... Your body was covered in sweat, your hair sticking to your forehead, and you were already out of breath.

- Yes princess...? - he asked with a cheeky smile as if what you were doing wasn't affecting him at all.

- Please... - your voice cracked from desperation and you rested your head on his shoulder because you just... weren't strong enough.

- Please what, princess...? - you huffed in frustration and bit him. Not hard enough to leave a mark, but he definitely felt it, because he chuckled. He knew that you had trouble regulating your reactions when you were so desperately helpless, and he wouldn't mind even if you drew blood, because he loved being marked by you. - Use your words. - he requested in a soft tone, but you knew that if you didn't ask, he would inform you in that same soft tone dipped in honey that good girls ask for things nicely, and if you couldn't do that, it meant you didn't really want it... And that would be the end of the night... And that was something you just couldn't deal with.

- Daddy... Please fuck me... Make me cum and fill me up... - you said, suddenly embarrassed by your actions and words, hiding your face in the nook of his neck.

- Since you asked so nicely... - he teased, but his strong hands found their way under your ass and squeezed your cheeks hard; you knew well what that meant and you lifted your feet from the floor and crossed your ankles behind him. He shifted once more, moving his forearms under your thighs, giving himself more leverage to actually start moving your body, and then he slowly lifted you in the air, so only his tip stayed inside you, and you almost cried at the sudden emptiness, but you didn't have time to even think about complaining because he let the gravity work with him, and you literally fell onto his whole length. And then again... And again... He was using your body as a toy, and you were more than happy to let him because he was making you feel so good... He was dragging the tip against your g spot with every move, whispering sweet praises directly into your ear... How good you felt around him, how he loved that your tiny body was taking him without a hitch, how perfect your moans were, and how you should moan even louder...

And even through all the praises and compliments, you could hear the obscene sounds your pussy was making every time he entered, and even though you two did much kinkier things in the past, it made you blush because it was a clear sign how strongly Slider could affect your body. And with every move he was getting you closer and closer to the peak, but when you were almost there...

- Hold on, princess... just one minute longer... So we can cum together and your tight walls can milk me even harder. Ok...? - he asked, but you knew it wasn't a request, and something in you broke when he looked at you. You were so close, even stronger breath could push you over the edge, and yet he was intent on keeping you there for just a little longer. You nodded, tears of frustration and desperation streaming down your face, while he was still moving your body. You bit your lip so hard that you drew blood, trying your best not to cum. It was hard and he knew exactly what he was doing, especially when he moved one hand to your lower abdomen and pressed on it hard at the same time as he said. - Now you can cum... - as soon as the words left his mouth, the tightly woven cord in your core unraveled and you slumped against Ron's torso, so checked out, that you didn't even realize what exactly happened when you came.

It took you a few minutes to come back to consciousness...

Slider's arm was still tightly wrapped around your waist, while his second hand was gently playing with your hair... He was still panting, and so were you, but you also realized something else... Everything was... wet. And not from sweat...

- I've made a mess, didn't I...? - you asked quietly, your cheeks on fire.

- A beautiful mess, princess... I just wish I could have drank it all straight from a source. - he grinned, a plan already forming in his head. It's not like it was the first time you squirted, but it wasn't happening often, so it was always a pleasant surprise. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. - You were perfect... - small praise, but it made you grin like an idiot.

- Carry me to bed...? - you requested quietly, wrapping your arms around his neck, and he started to stand up, a change of position making his cock fall out of you, and with it, you could feel sticky cum sliding down your thigh.

- Quick shower first... - he pressed another gentle kiss, this time to your temple and you couldn't help but smile.

A/N 2: Please don't feel obligated/pressured to reblog, because I write mostly for myself. But I would really appreciated if you commented :) Love, G.

#my writing #Ron Kerner Fanfiction #Ron Slider Kerner Fanfiction #Slider Fanfiction #Top Gun fanfiction #Top Gun Smut #Ron Kerner x reader #Ron Slider Kerner x reader #Slider x reader #Ron Kerner smut #Ron Slider Kerner smut #Slider smut #🧰#🎤#💋#🎀#📏#🔥

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lieutenantfloyd · 2 years

Text

Rebel Yell - Ron “Slider” Kerner

Pairing: Ron “Slider” Kerner x Reader

Words: 2.4k

Summary: Penny, readers older sister, leaves to go hang out with Maverick and the crew at the bar instead of "babysitting" her younger sister while their parents are out of town. In an attempt to follow the many rules set by their father, reader calls the bar and asks Penny to bring her a pizza. Penny is less than thrilled at this prospect as she wants to stay out with Mav just a bit longer. Unbeknownst to reader, Penny enlists Slider, reader's long-time crush, to deliver the pizza instead.

Warnings: smut, age difference, a little bit of risky sex towards the end.

note: This was heavily inspired by Rebel Yell by Billy Idol and I'm On Fire by Bruce Springsteen. Both of which are on my Slider playlist :)

read on ao3

One thing about being the youngest daughter of a Naval admiral is that no matter how old you are, you'll always be viewed as a child. It didn't help any that your older sister Penny was still required to "Babysit" despite you both being legal adults. You both agreed this rule was unnecessary so it wasn't uncommon for her to leave you at home while she went out with her friends or her on-again-off-again boyfriend Maverick.

This was where you found yourself tonight, alone at home while Penny was out on the town living the young adult dream. Even though there was a bit of an age difference between you two, you still couldn't understand why she wouldn't let you tag along more than once in a blue moon. What made this night different, however, was the fact that both your parents were away on "official business", leaving you and your sister (or really just you) alone in your large beachside home.

Making your way into the kitchen, you opened the fridge as if something to eat had appeared between the 10th and 11th time you did this exact act. It wasn't that there was no food, just that it was all either off limits or required way too much cooking. Not to mention the fact that another one of your fathers' rules was that you weren't allowed to cook when they weren't home.

Sighing, you close the fridge again and make your way over to the house phone. Putting the receiver to your ear, you consider not calling the bar to speak to Penny, but eventually decide that if she's willing to run off all night, the least she can do is bring you a pizza from the shop next door. The line rings for a while before the owner picks up.

"Hi. Is Penny there?" You ask while leaning onto the wall.

"Yep. Want me to fetch her for you?"

"Yes, thank you."

The owner set the line down and went to get Penny, leaving you to listen in on the commotion of the bar. You longed to be amongst the crowd, singing karaoke and flirting with aviators. Your head swam with memories of the few times Penny took you with her. You'd made fast friends with everyone, Iceman and Slider in particular. You'd always admired him, but it wasn't long until your admiration grew into a full-blown crush. He was older, with soft blue eyes and a physique practically carved out of stone. He was wild and funny and practically dripped confidence. Above all else, he treated you like you were more than just Penny's baby sister or the admiral's little girl.

Just as you were recalling the moments you'd shared with him, namely the moment two months back when Ron was teaching you to play pool and how his big, strong arms positioned you into the right form, penny picked up the phone.

"Is something wrong?'' She asked, clearly wanting to get off the phone as quickly as possible.

"No. But can you bring me a pizza from next door?"

"That's it? Why don't you just cook something?"

"You know how dad is, Penny. Besides, aren't you supposed to be babysitting me? Feeding the baby is part of the job, you know."

"...Fine," she huffed "I'm a little.. preoccupied, but I'll figure something out."

"Thank you!" You teased back.

"Don't push it."

Forty minutes later you were sitting on the floor carding through VHS tapes when suddenly the doorbell rang. Expecting either a delivery man or Penny herself, you opened the door without looking through the peephole.

"Surprise delivery." Slider smirks, holding the pizza box out to you.

Your grip on the doorknob slips as it takes all your willpower to stay standing. Taking the pizza with an unsteady hand, he asks to come in and you nod a little too excitedly in agreement. He follows you to the living room in silence. You set the food on the coffee table and turn to him.

"So what are you doing here?" You question.

"Penny asked the table if anyone wanted to bring you a pizza. I accepted because why wouldn't i want to see my favorite girl?" He smiled down at you.

It took all you had not to pass out right there. His favorite girl. There had always been a slightly flirty tension between you, but neither of you wanted to press it and ruin the small amount of time you spent together. But now it was just you two, alone in your house as he stood there clad in grey sweatpants and a complimentary tight white t-shirt that granted an outline of his dog tags.

forcing your eyes off his figure, you continued the conversation the best you could in his presence.

"Well, I appreciate it. Are you um.. heading back to the bar?"

"I was planning on heading over to my place." He answers.

Here goes nothing, you thought.

"Do you maybe want to stay here? With me? I was going to eat and watch a movie." You smiled through your nerves.

"And here I was thinking you'd never ask."

A while later the pizza had been all but forgotten in favor of the movie Ron had picked. Some horror flick from the past year. Clutching the pillow tighter to your chest you can't ignore Ron's eyes on you for what seems like the umpteenth time so far. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you turn to meet his gaze.

"What is it?"

"Nothing sweets. Nothing at all." He says, turning his attention back to the movie.

His reply leaves you both puzzled and slightly frustrated. Pushing the pillow onto the floor next to you, you stretch your body in an effort to release both tension and rid yourself of your beckoning sleepiness. Your arms push high above your head, the sensation causing you to groan softly. Settling back down, it isn't long before you feel him looking at you again. Just as frustration bubbles in your chest again he cuts you off.

"Are you tired?" He asks.

"Not really." You lie.

He doesn't need to know you still have a strictly enforced bedtime.

"Good. Do you think your sister will be back soon?"

This causes you to look up at him curiously.

"No, why?"

"Just wondering." He says before pausing as if considering his words.

"You know, I can always stay until she does. For safety reasons, of course." He smiles playfully.

Maybe it was your tired mind playing tricks on you, but you could've sworn his eyes trailed down your body as he spoke. Your face grows warm at the thought as your head drops shyly.

"I'd like that. Thank you." You say barely above a whisper.

"Of course, sweets." He smirks over at you before moving a bit closer.

Feeling shy next to him you put your focus back on the movie. Soon small yelps start to escape you as jumpscare after jumpscare appears on the screen. It isn't long before you're shielding your eyes and gripping Slider's arm for dear life. His hand made its way up your back and around your shoulder, squeezing you confidently as you continued to shy away from the tv. Hoping to not embarrass yourself further, you peeked out from under his arm. As luck would have it, you chose a terrible time to look. The image sends you scrambling into his lap with a shriek. Without missing a beat his arms curl around your form.

"I told you I was here to protect you" he teases in a low voice.

His voice sends a shudder down your spine. You bury your head further into his firm chest, trying to hide your embarrassment. He only laughs and shifts his grip on your body, grabbing your hips firmly, and prompting you to look at him. With a little coxing you unbury your face, earning a wide smile from the older man.

A wild look flashes in his eyes as he leans down towards your ear again.

"You know, if you wanted to jump in my lap and feel me up you could've just asked."

The heat burning on your face sinks lower as your eyes grow wide. Your heart rate picks up as you start to wriggle under his hands.

"Hey, hey, hey," He coos "Gosh, you really are the cutest."

Suddenly you still in his grip, heat moving from your face down to your belly every time he speaks. You slowly grow comfortable against him as silence falls between you. Just as you settle against him, his arms wrap around your front, rolling you onto the floor while he finds a spot on top of you.

Brushing your hair aside, his head dips as he places a soft kiss on your lips. The kiss deepens instantly and your mouths begin to move in sync. Your arms find their way around his neck to pull him closer and his hands trail down your sides. He pushes your thighs apart and slots his hips between them. His tongue pushes past your lips and he prompts your legs to wrap around his waist. Your hands find their way into his hair and your nails take down his scalp, earning a deep groan from him. Pressing further into you, he rolls his hips against yours. His hands find their way to your chest, but before they move inside your shirt he pulls his mouth away from yours.

"Tell me to stop and I will."

"Please.." you practically whine.

"Please stop?" He says, backing off slightly.

"No! Just... um.." you say, growing shy again.

"I need to hear your words, honey."

"I want you."

"To what, honey?"

"...Fuck me."

"Atta girl." He says allowing more of his weight to press into you while his lips find your neck. "I'll take care of you," he says between kisses. "or ruin you. Whichever you prefer."

You shudder at his words and he laughs, loving the effect he already has on you.

"Let's try a little bit of both." He smirks slightly, planting a firm kiss to the side of your head.

Without any more hesitation, his lips find the crook of your neck while his hands find their way under your shirt. Your mouth falls open with a moan, prompting him to push his hips back in between your thighs. His hard on pressing into your core. He kisses your lips needily before making quick work of removing your collective garments. the moment his shirt lands on the floor your hands begin to roam his torso, sliding lower and lower until they meet the waistband of his grey sweatpants.

“Don’t hold back,” he growls, sensing your slight hesitation. His toned frame and ever-confident personality had you seeing stars. slipping out of his sweats he goes to remove your bottoms as well. You lift your hips up into his allowing him to finally discard your shorts and underwear. His palm pushes between your thighs to cup your heat. His digits push past your folds just enough to dampen them before bringing them to his mouth. You both groan at the sight. Heat floods your stomach causing you to buck your hips up into his. Through his boxers you can feel just how obscenely hard and big he is. You groan again at the sensation, the noise causing him to drop one hand from his mouth and push your hips to the ground. With his free hand, he frees his cock from his boxers and shifts to move the head between your soaked folds.

"Ronnie," you pant "I need you inside me.”

"You don't have to ask me twice," he smirks as he sinks his length into you. Your head falls against the floor as inch after inch of his erection enters your beckoning heat. Coming to hilt he groans and pauses, granting you time to adjust to his size. You let out a few needy moans as the seconds pass and the pressure in your abdomen grows.

"Ronnie, please. I need you to move," you say slowly.

His lips capture yours as he draws his hips back, drawing his length partway out before thrusting forcefully back into you. He swallows your small cry as your nails drag up his back and arms. His thrusts are long, even, and impossibly deep. Your head swims with nothing but pleasure as the head of his dick finds your sweet spot over and over again. Releasing your lips he reaches down and pulls one of your legs around his hip, allowing him to thrust somehow deeper inside you.

Your loud mewls blend with his deep groans. A quick snap of his hips makes your walls clench around him. The sound he lets out is downright pornographic and your mind goes blank. Leaving you a wriggling mess underneath him crying out for more. He continues his quick, sloppy thrusts until you come undone around him moments later.

Riding you through your orgasm, he soon pulls out and spills over your lower stomach. His strong arms land on either side of you. Keeping his full weight from collapsing on top of you. He presses his forehead to yours and your labored breaths sync. As you both come down from your orgasms, you almost don't hear the front door open and penny yell your name. Almost.

The sound of your name sends your once cloudy mind onto high alert. You froze, silently thanking the powers that be that blessed you with a house with a sectioned-off living room.

"Hey!" You yell back through the house, your voice much shakier than intended. A short silence follows before penny speaks up again. "Are you okay y/n?" Penny asks, causing Ron to bury his head in your shoulder in an effort to stifle a laugh. "I'm Fine! Just.. uh.. don't come in here!" You stammer earning a dampened laugh and a wild look from Ron. A much longer silence fills the air this time.

"...I'm just going to head up to bed. Goodnight y/n."

"Alright. Goodnight!" You answer, still half frozen.

Penny starts up the stairs without another word. Thinking you're in the clear, you both relax slightly, letting out soft giggles like two teenagers who just got away with something. Rolling off you, your mind grows cloudy again as he begins to whisper teasing praises into your ear. Yet with what's left of your mind, you hear her stop halfway up the stairs.

"-And goodnight Ron."

"Fuck."

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@austin-butlers-gf

#r.kerner #slider x reader #slider kerner #ron slider kerner #ron kerner #top gun x reader #top gun smut #slider smut #top gun #top gun maverick

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shelfwar · 1 year

Note

Could you write something smut with slider?

Of course! Bear with me, this was my first smut I've written in a long time, so enjoy. Oh and thank you for the request!

WARNINGS:18+ Obviously SMUT, DOM/SUB,USE OF WORDS, DECEPTIVE OF BODY PARTS, IDK WHAT ELSE....

~I do~ Slider X Reader |SMUT|

"And now I pronounce husband and wife. You may now kiss Mr and Mrs Kerner." You looked up at Slider as he grabbed your waist and leaned down locking his lips with yours as cheers erupted in the church. "Were married." You whispered out of breath. "Yeah, we are love." He grabbed your hand as the wedding party made there way down the aisle as the two of you came at the very last once all of the guests left the building. "By the way, you look stunning today y/n." Slider twirled you around as you let out a giggle.

"And you don't so bad yourself handsome." You pecked his cheek as he looked down at you with a smile. Suddenly the church doors opened as the guests started clapping as you two made your way to thank the guests. You walked over to your parents and hugged them tightly. "My little girl." Your dad said as he looked at you lovingly. "Oh dad." "Look at you my princess and her lovely bride" "I know." You glanced over at Slider as he was talking to some of the guests, which melted your heart even more.

"Go, get him." Your mom nudged you towards him. "Mom!" She let out a chuckle as you made your way to your husband. "Hi, Ron." "Hi, love." He wrapped his arm around your waist as Iceman and some of the other pilots walked over to you two.

"Congrats you two, still can't believe your married." "Thanks Tom, I still believe it either." You said as you looked up at Slider. "Yeah, I sure found a beauty." He chuckled.

"Auntie y/n! Auntie y/n! You look like a princess." Your neice Kayla came running up to you as your brother came chasing after her. You picked up the small girl and held her on your hip not knowing that Slider was watching intently from besides you. "Why thank you Kayla." "And-and uncle Ron you look like a king." "Why thank you miss Kayla." Slider poked her small rosy cheek as she giggled at him.

After all of the pictures were taken you and Slider along with the wedding party climbed aboard the party bus and started the drinking for the reception. Although you weren't much of a drinker you still participated in the fun by drinking a mixed drink. "You okay?" You felt Slider whisper into your ear as he squeezed your hand. "Yeah, just nervous." "It'll be okay, just think of what's coming tonight." He said as he wiggled his eyebrows. "Ron!" "Can't wait to hear that to." You swatted at his arm as he started chuckling.

Once you arrived at the reception hall the bridal party all lined up with both groomsmen and bridesmaids as you and Slider were at the very end of the 3 row of friends. Slider held your hand tightly as the you both moved up every few seconds. When it was your turn for introduction Slider picked you up bridal style before walking in as the DJ announced you two. "PLEASE WELCOME MR AND MRS KERNER!!"

Cheers erupted all around you as he walked into the reception hall, with big smiles you both kissed each other. Slider slowly put you down making sure you got your footing back as you walked hand in hand over to the wedding party tables with the others. You both found your spots which were seated in the middle of the most decorative area as did the others to. Slider pulled out the chair for you as you pulled up your dress a little before sitting in the comfortable chair. Slider soon followed, underneath the table he took your hand in his and squeezed it in reinsurance.

After everyone in the wedding party sat down they started serving the delicious food that consisted of; roast beef, mash potatoes, green beans with bits of bacon mixed in, along with a roll. You instantly dug in, cause you didn't even bother eating breakfast this morning because of all of the nerves you had.

"Best damn-" Glasses starred tinkling as it grew louder, both you and Slider stood up as he caressed your cheek before leaning into you for a kiss as cheers erupted once again. "I hate that tradition." You whispered as you both sat back down. "I could tell." He chuckled as he went back to eating. "As I was saying this is good food." "I know, that's why I got this company to cater." You giggled. "Smart girl."

When everyone was done eating they started clearing the center of the room so you can have your first dance. Obviously it was daddy daughter dance first, you and your dad held onto each other as a slow romantic song played. "My little girl, going to a Navy pilot, who'd thought." "Beats me dad." He let out a chuckle as he twirled me around. "I love you dad." "And I love you to y/n. I know Slider will take very good care of you." "I know he will, that's why I love him."

As the two of you were dancing Slider and his mom started dancing alongside you and your dad. "Hey Ron, I think this is your dance." Your dad motioned him to you as him and his mom hugged before he grabbed your hand. Yours and Sliders chosen song for your first dance started playing (Take my breath away- Berlin)

Slider once again placed his big hands on your waist as you wrapped your arms lazily around his neck. He started to slowly rock you both back in forth to the beat of the music occasionally rubbing his nose on top of your head. "I love you y/n." "I love you too Ron."

When the song ended he leaned down and gently captured your lips with his.

When both you two starred getting tired you both said your goodbyes as you headed out to your car. Slider started it up as he grabbed your hand and put it over his crotch. With wide eyes you looked over at him. "You feel that baby? My cock is straining for you cause you look so fucking sexy in that dress, I'm gonna ruin you."

"Fuck." You whispered as you squirmed in the seat. He put the car in reverse and backed out of the parking spot, then put it in drive. Once we left the haul, he looked over at you hungrily before placing your hand back on his crotch. "Mm, the things I could do to you. I bet you your pussy is drenched for me, isn't it baby?" "Yes Ron." "Good girl." He smirked as you subconsciously started rubbing his crotch. "Fuck."

When you arrived at your shared home, Slider parked the car in park faster than ever as he ran to your door opening it. He quickly picked you up bridal style as he made his way to the front door and opened it up. Slamming the door shut his lips instantly locked with you in a fiery kiss, setting you down in the process.

"You. Me. Bed. Now!" Your brain went to hot wire mode as you tripped over your own dress trying to run up the stairs, Slider behind you cautiously watching. Once you made it upstairs you flopped down on the bed with a goofy grin as Slider made his way into the room. "Yeah know, I can see the outline of your cock better in your whites then those khaki pants."

"Fucking right." Slider took off his hat and placed it on the nightstand,

whilst taking off his shoes. You rose your leg up hinting that you wanted your shoes off. Slider got the hint, so he softly took off your shoes and threw it behind him. "Waited all fucking day to tear this dress off of you baby. Fuck, gave me a boner right away when I saw you." "Mm, I might be wet wanna check it out?" "Yeah."

You sat up in bed as he helped remove your dress to reveal a white lingerie set that barely covered your breasts. "Fuck." "Saved it just for you Slider, just for you." Slider pounced on the bed caging you with his arms as he started kissing you like there's no tomorrow. He moved down to your neck trying to find your pulse point. "Slider!" He sucked on the point as you let out a moan grasping his shoulders, as he moved down to the valley of your breasts. Your racked your hands in his short curly hair. "I love you." He looked up at you with hooded eyes.

"Ron, I love you to." You smiled up at him. "Screw the rough sex, I'm gonna make sensual love to you." Slider continued to kiss down to your panties as he he slowly removed them. "Sit up baby girl." You listened to him as he helped remove your bra. He cupped your breasts as you started on his buttons. "Lemme do it baby."

Slider got off the bed and took off all of his clothes besides his boxers and jumped back to you. "Your wearing to much." "I know, but your pussy needs attention right now." Slider got down his knees and blew on your pussy, earning a whimper from you.

He licked a wide stripe from your hole to your clit. "Ron!" You locked your hands in his hair as he started eating you out, like a hungry man. Your hips started thrusting upwards, as you felt Sliders arm hold down your hips. "Mmm, Ron." You gasped as you felt his tongue fuck your hole.

"RON I WANT YOU INSIDE ME!" You yelped as he bit your clit. "Not till you cum." He dove right back in as you felt your walls start to flutter. "I'm close." You panted. You felt him tease his middle finger before removing his mouth, as he sunk his middle finger into your pussy you panted out his name like a prayer. "Roonn!" You whimper as he placed his tongue on you clit while fucking you with his finger.

"Don't stop. Ron don't stop I'm close. Fuck!" You gripped the bedsheets and his hair as the coil began to tighten reaching closer and closer to your orgasm.

"Cum, baby. I can feel you " You let out a silent scream as your body shook your orgasm out. "That was hot." Slider stood up and took his boxers off, so his cock could be free. He climbed on top of the bed hovering over your blissed out body. You felt one of his hands caress your check once he knew you came down from the high.

"You okay?" You looked up at him with half lidded eyes, nodding in the process of recovering from the best orgasm you've had in a while. "I'm fine just give me a bit." "Okay." Slider slowly placed his lips on yours as you could taste yourself on his tongue. You felt Slider tweak at your sensitive nipples as his kisses grew hungrier. You moaned in his month has he broke the kiss.

"Any protection tonight darling?" You nodded as he reached over to the nightstand and pulled out a condom. With his teeth he opened the packet and handed it to you. "I want you to put it on" "Okay." You sat up in bed as you took the condom out of the package and lighty touched his dick. You pinched the one end as you started rolling it down his shaft, he let out a groan as you laid back down.

"You ready?" He said as he stroked his dick. "Of course Ron." He smiled as he hovered over you again but with one hand he held himself up and with the other he held his cock. He ran it up and down your slick folds earning small whimpers from you.

After awhile of him doing that he finally put the tip in as he inched in slowly. He grabbed one of your hands and held it very tight as he bottomed out. "Fuck, your always so tight." "Only for you Ron." You moaned as he thrust back a bit before slamming back in. He looked down at you as he started thrusting into you hard making you squeal, out in pleasure.

"Your taking my cock so well love." "Fuck, Ron I love you!" You moaned as he placed your legs over his shoulders to get deeper into you, if it was even possible. He buried his head into your neck while you clawed at his back. "Ron!" You cried as you took his face and made him look at you. He leaned down locking his lips with you in a very sloppy kiss, as you felt that familer feeling rising in your stomach.

"Ron, I'm so fucking close." "Hands and knees now." Slider pulled out of you as he knelt back watching you get into position. Once there you felt him thrust into you very hard, with a moan you clawed at the sheets. "Holy fuck!" His pace was brutal at this point, just to reach both of your highs together.

"I'm so close y/n!" "Me-me to Ron." You felt his fingers travel up to your clit and that's when you exploded, you let out the loudest moan that would make a porn star blush. Slider flipped you both so you were back to laying down and him looking at you again.

As his thrusting became sloppy, your eyes started to water as a howl erupted from Slider indicating that he came to. Slider rested his head on yours as heavy breathing became labored. "You okay?" He said as he caressed your cheek. "Yeah, just tired." "Okay, I love you to." He pulled out of you whille you whined.

He pinched the top of the condom and tied it up throwing it into the garbage can. He then left the room as you heard water running, and in He came with a washcloth. He started cleaning up your vagina and started kissing your plush thighs. Once he was done he dug through some drawers pulling out one of his shirts, his boxers and new underwear for you.

He put back on his boxers as he helped you put your underwear and his shirt on. Once done you climbed underneath the covers as he turned off the light and hopped into bed with you. Instantly you crawled up to his side, placing your hand on his toned chest as he wrapped an arm around you.

"Good night Mrs Kerner." He planted a kiss on your forehead. "And good night Mr Kerner."

#top gun 1986 #request #slider x reader #rick rossovich #ron slider kerner x reader #ron kerner x reader #ron kerner #slider top gun #slider smut

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crazyk-imagine · 2 years

Text

Checking Trick ✔️ or Treat ✔️

Pairing: Tom “Iceman” Kazansky x Pilot!reader

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

Briefly mentioned: Carole Bradshaw, Bradley Bradshaw

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

Word Count: 2,046

A/N: Reader’s call sign is Combat

Happy (almost) Halloween!

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

“Thanks, Peaches.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t be mean.”

“Don’t get dirt on my bedspread.”

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

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

The stairs creak under you as you walk down.

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

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

“Bite me.”

“Not on this lifetime, Dogboy.”

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

“How about… no.”

He groans, shutting the door behind him.

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

“Give me your keys!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Exactly!”

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

“I’m not. I’m-”

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

“I’m leaving you.”

“You little sh-”

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

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

“Well, don’t you clean up nice.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s bad, alright.”

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

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

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

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

“What?” Tom grumbles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nods.

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

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

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

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

“You’re an ass.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who knew you were such a romantic?”

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

He walks away, aiming back towards his friend.

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

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

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

“You should go.”

“I think I’m good.”

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

Pete’s head snaps up, “What? Where?”

Ron gestures his head to the side.

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

The two disappear from your view.

“What the actual-”

“Language, sweetheart.”

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

Nick and Pete stand in front of Leonard and Ron.

The duke’s son pouts, “where is she?”

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

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

“Wolfman?”

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

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

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

“Talk to me, Goose.”

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

“Goose! Hey, Goose!”

The two exit the bar in a chaotic fashion.

You slowly turn towards him. “Kazanksy.”

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

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

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

“You think you’re cute, don’t you?”

He shrugs.

“If you must know, Maverick-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Does that make you, my prince?”

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

“Oh wow.”

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

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

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

“Yeah, do you not like it?”

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

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

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

Peaches with the Hat

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

Combat Wins

“Why are you up?” 4:53am Sent Read

Peaches with the Hat

“Good Halloween… ” 4:53am Sent Read

Combat Wins

“Gross” 4:54am Sent Read

Combat Wins

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

Peaches with the Hat is typing…

Peaches with the Hat

“I’m superrr tired.” 4:59am Sent Read

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

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

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

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

A loud, annoyed groan escapes him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I got a date with a princess.”

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

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imawkwardlysoc · 1 year

Text

champagne and sunshine

Dedicated to @skiddit, @optimisticmiraclecolor, and other members of the slider slut society.

Song- champagne and sunshine by plvtinum ft. tarro

Pairing- ron 'slider' kerner x female! reader

Warnings(s)- 18+, MDNI, degradation, full-on smut, dirty talk, slider calling himself daddy, p in v, aftercare

Summary- slider goes absolutely feral when he sees the reader in a sundress.

Wordcount- 1,473

After a day of training in the hot San Diego weather, some of the boys decided to go to the O-Bar to grab some cold drinks to cool them out and to also let go of some stress. While Hollywood and Wolfman grabbed the drinks, Maverick, Iceman, Slider, and Goose sat around the tables talking about their plans for the weekend.

“So Carole’s wondering if you guys are still down to have a little barbeque at our place tomorrow,” Goose started the conversation.

“Yeah, Y/N and I are already planning on bringing something,” Slider nodded his head.

“Oh, how are you two doing?” Ice asked his RIO.

“We’re good,” the RIO smiled. “Really good.”

As Hollywood and Wolfman returned with the cold drinks in their hands, Slider started to gush about his partner not knowing that Y/N just arrived. Adjusting the straps of her dress and fixing her hair, she walked into the bar to see some Top Gun students eyeing her down, planning a plan on how to get her in their beds at the end of the evening. Y/N ignored their looks and headed straight to the table where her boyfriend and his friends sat.

“Sorry, but is this seat taken?” Y/N wrapped her arms around Slider.

“Only for you,” Slider smiled as he pulled Y/N by her waist and pulled her into his lap.

“Y/N, nice of you to join us,” Mav smiled.

“Yeah, I just need a drink after the busy day I had,” Y/N took a sip out of Slider’s drink and looked at Goose. “By the way, I got the thing you and Carole needed for tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” Goose thanked Y/N.

“It’s no problem,” Y/N smiled as she laid her head on Slider’s shoulder.

Throughout the two hours they were there, Y/N was laughing and enjoying the conversations that were happening while Slider was distracted with his own thoughts and the sundress Y/N was wearing. The floral sundress fell above her knees while the dress slit went mid thigh giving Slider easy access. The sweetheart neckline showed the right amount of breast while her collar bone was exposed which Slider wished to trail all of his hickies all over her body. The tie straps will make it faster for him to rip the dress off of her when they get home.

While Y/N was in a conversation with Ice, she felt Slider put his hand on her thigh where the slit was and started to ride his hand up. Y/N bit the inside of her cheek as she felt the tingling feeling. As Slider made it up her dress, he used his two fingers to open the fold and started to rub her clit. Y/N tried to remain calm and interested in the conversation while fighting the urge to let out a moan.

“Y/N, are you okay? You’re looking a little blushed,” Hollywood questioned.

“Yeah, it’s just a little hot,” Y/N let out a chuckle.

“Well then gentlemen, I’m going to take this lady home and cool her down,” Slider announced while removing his hand from under her dress. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

All of them said their goodbyes and Y/N and Slider went to where Slider’s truck was parked. Slider helped her into the truck since it was slightly elevated and closed the passenger door before getting into the driver’s seat.

“You’re an asshole you know?” Y/N slapped his arm.

“How am I?” He questioned.

“That thing that you did while we were inside,” she explained, slightly frustrated. “What would happen if anyone saw it? Especially the guys.”

“And I will kill them if they mention it,” Slider placed a kiss on Y/N’s lips. “Damn, it’s hot when you're frustrated.”

“Just shut up and take us home,” Y/N whined.

“As you say,” Slider winked.

He pulled the truck out of the parking space and made the fifteen minute drive to their house. Throughout the drive, the sexual tension was tense as Slider kept on guiding his freehand up Y/N’s thigh. Y/N let out a tiny moan which Slider smirked at when he pulled into their driveway. Getting out of the car, Slider quickly locked the car as Y/N opened the front door. When the two of them got into the house, they closed the door and hurried to their bedroom.

Y/N let out another moan as her back was against the wall while Slider started to place kisses along her neck and neckline. Ripping her underwear off and moving the dress slit away, Slider inserted his fingers into her again while rubbing the clit. With his free hand, he started to untie one of the straps of her dress while Y/N helped with the other one.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” Slider groaned as her dress fell exposing her breasts.

Removing his fingers, he let the dress fall to the floor and looked at the expression that was shown on Y/N’s face. With a satisfied look on his face, he picked her up and placed her on the bed while towering over her giving her a nod. Y/N started to unbutton his uniform while kissing him and placing kisses along his neck. Throwing the button up onto the floor, Slider quickly tossed his white beater off leaving his dog tags on. Kneeling onto the bed now, Slider started to place kisses along Y/N’s bare body as she quickly took his pants off. Taking off his underwear, Y/N cupped his crotch for a few seconds before starting to stroke his cock. Slider soon got on top of her as his dog tags dangled above her face with her eyes pleading.

“You want it don’t you?” Slider’s voice went down an octave as he went closer to her ear to whisper the last part. “You dirty, little slut.”

Y/N let out a whimper while also nodding her head yes.

“Oh no, I need a verbal answer,” the RIO tilted her chin up so he could see her.

“Yes!” Y/N moaned and whimpered. “Please! I need it!”

“Oh wait for Daddy,” Slider smirked as he began to go down. “I’ll fill you up soon you little whore.”

Slider started to place kisses along her legs and inner thighs. Y/N gripped the bedsheets as her back arched while letting out some small moans. Taking one of her hands, Y/N gripped onto his hair as he continued to eat her out.

“Are you ready?” Slider asked.

“Yes, please!” Y/N screamed out.

With that answer, Slider started to tease her a little while misplacing his cock which caused Y/N to moan more. Soon he inserted it in and started to slowly thrust into her. Moans filled the room as each thrust quickened. Y/N wrapped her legs around her partner’s waist while he kissed him passionately.

“Ron,” Y/N moaned. “I’m about-”

“No, not yet.” Ron started to do some of his final thrusts.

In his final thrust, the two moaned out their names so loud that the whole neighborhood could hear it. Slider collapsed next to Y/N who were both a sweaty mess as they panted.

“Fuck, that was,” Y/N panted.

“Amazing,” Slider completed. “I’ll be right back.”

Slider got out of bed and left the room for a few minutes before coming back with a damp hand towel. He cleaned the area between Y/N’s legs before tossing it into the laundry basket and getting into bed. He pulled her closer making their legs tangled together. Slider softly talked to her asking her if she was alright while rubbing circles on her thighs. The two shared a conversation before deciding it was time for bed.

*The Day After at the Party*

“So, you had an eventful night didn’t you?” Mav smirked.

“Mitchell, shut up before I throw you into the ocean when we’re on a carrier,” Slider sends him a daggered look.

He soon looked over to see Y/N talking and laughing at the conversation she was having with Carole and Sarah.

“Looks like you and Ron had a pretty exciting night,” Carole nudged Y/N a little.

“How did you know?” Y/N blushed.

“Well you’re still glowing and you missed a spot.” Sarah pointed out the missed love mark that peeped over the neckline of her dress.

“Oh well,” Y/N replied while shrugging her shoulders.

“You’re planning on doing it again aren’t you?” Carole questioned as she saw the look on her friend’s face.

“Oh yeah.”

Y/N took a sip of her drink and sent Slider a wink before turning her attention back to the conversation.

“He’s gone isn’t he?” Wolfman asked.

“Yep,” everyone answered at the same time.

#ron kerner x reader #ron slider kerner x reader #top gun x reader #ron kerner #ron slider kerner #top gun #top gun fanfiction #Spotify

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callsigndragon · 1 year

Text

The Christmas Date | Chapter 4: Santa Tell Me

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Fem!Kerner!Reader

(Ron Kerner is Slider, Iceman’s backseater)

Wordcount: 2.8k

Summary: Y/n “Athena” Kerner and Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw hate each other. Everybody knows. What happens when they have to fake date for a whole week to avoid Iceman and Slider’s matchmaking plans?

(there won't be smut in this series)

Warnings: OKAY SO. If there is any transphobic person reading this, i’m sorry but it’s time to LEAVE. Iceman’s grandSON is trans, Rooster/Thena being supportive godparents, Rooster’s ex-gf still being a bitch, body dismorphia, mentions of alcohol, CAR ACCIDENT (everyone's okay don't worry), driving under the influence, mentions of death, mentions of Carole's death... you know the deal.

A/N: Yeah, I know. I should be taking some time to rest. I got bad news today, my heart is getting worse again and I have to go through surgery BUT writing is my coping mechanism so expect more works soon.

Tag list:@ducks118 @milestellerwife @craftymoonchaos @littlebadariell @xoxabs88xox @alexxavicry @tayrae515 @shrimping-for-all @mak-32 @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @harper1666 @purplevortexx @abaker74 @ssprayberrythings @melllinaa @loveless-simp @k-k0129

(If you want to be tagged comment or sent an ask <3)

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The room is amazing. If you hadn’t seen it before, you could never tell that it had been filled to the core with princess things. You can’t wait to see your nephew and Rebecca, talk to both, and learn more about this new part of your lives that has just begun.

“You went all extra with the Christmas tree.” says Nick looking at the 7 ft tree that Rooster bought.

“Christmas this year is special. Let’s make it a one to remember” Bradley admits, looking at you. “Can I talk to you?”

“Oh, am, sure!”

You two move to the kitchen, Rooster seems to be a bit agitated. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t think we should lie to Jes- well, to him”

You sigh, knowing that he’s right. How can you lie to that poor kid? You clearly haven’t thought about all the aspects of this ruse.

“Rooster, I know what you mean but… If we tell him, everyone will know. And my father will bring that girl over for you to meet her”

“Yeah, I know. I don’t think we have a choice”

Then, as if that little kid knew you were talking about him, you hear a car park “That’s not Iceman’s car” you adduce, going to open the front door. They shouldn’t be here yet.

Parked in front of the garage is Rebecca’s car. She is opening the door to your five-year-old nephew. Rebecca has a worried expression, and the kid climbs out of the vehicle, a black beanie on his head, and pulls the hoodie up to hide his face from the world.

Rooster, who is beside you, gets closer to the kid, opening his arms to give the younger one a hug. “Hey, buddy! Long time no see”

However, the kid enters the house, ignoring both of you, and runs upstairs.

“He’s been like this all the way back home. I’m sorry, guys. He was excited about his new name but well… He wants it all and he wants it now. I'm happy to see you” Rebecca says, giving each a quick hug.

“Is he okay?”

“He’s been begging me to cut off his hair” Rebecca confesses, making the two of you nod. “I told him to wait to get home, so we could look up for some haircuts and see which one he likes best but…”

“He’s still a five-year-old, Becca. It’s not gonna be easy” you tell her.

Nick joins you outside to hug his sister. “Your son has gone straight to the bathroom. He didn’t even say hi”

You look at Rooster before running all the way to the bathroom with him behind you. Everyone knows that Sarah’s special scissors for cutting Iceman’s hair are in the second drawer. And he knows too. You try to open the door, but it is closed. “Hey buddy, it’s Uncle Roos. Can you open for me?”

“No!” yells a muffled, hurt voice from the other side of the door.

“Y/n, he can hurt himself” Rooster mutters, as if you haven’t thought about it.

“I know, shut up” you knock on the door softly. “Hey bud, can you tell me your name? Mom says you got a new one.”

There’s a silence that prolongs itself for a few seconds. You hold your breath trying to hear what is happening on the other side of the door but all you can hear is the quick, pounding sound of your own heart.

“...Jesse”

“Jesse, huh? That’s such a cool name” you sit on the floor, legs crossed, waiting for this to be a long conversation.

“Thank you. I chose it myself”

“You did? Woah, Jesse. That’s amazing. Much cooler than mine”

“I’m not going to open the door” Jesse’s voice is calmer now, but still full of sadness. It breaks your heart.

“It’s okay, pal. I just wanna talk. It’s been so long since we saw each other, I think you are a lot different now”

“I’m different. But mom doesn’t want me to be different”

You look at Becca over your shoulder. She’s biting her nails off. You need Jesse to open the door. And fast.

“You sure? 'Cause your mom called us this morning and told us to change your room. She wants you to be yourself, sweetheart.”

“It’s that true?” you can hear him pout and it’s so painful to see him like that.

“We got rid of all the princesses and now your room has a lot of Paw Patrol things. And we even found Marshall’s fire truck!”

“Mom, did you do that?” the door is still closed, but he seems to be closer to it now. It's working.

“Uncle Roos and Aunt Thena helped me, but yes. I told them to do it”

“Hey, Jesse” Rooster speaks for the first time in a while. “I know what it is to hate what you see in the mirror. If you open this door, Aunt Thena and I will take you to the hairdresser, so they can get you a good haircut”

“Promise?” Jesse asks, opening the door for you to see him.

“I promise, buddy”

Jesse hugs you and Rooster and then goes to his mom. “I’m sorry, mom… I just wanted to be like the rest”

“I know, baby, I know. But you have to understand that you can’t get everything at the moment. Mom’s not a hairdresser. How was I supposed to cut your hair?”

“I’m sorry… Can I see my room?”

You all laugh at the sudden change in his tone. From being sorrowful to excited. Jesse can be a lot different now, but he’s still a kid, and he will do what a five-year-old does. Be loud, happy, get angry when he doesn’t get what he wants… Normal things for a kid.

“Let’s go see it!”

Nick, Rebecca, and Jesse go to see the room, and you stay sitting on the floor with Roos. It’s been a tiring day. And it’s not even noon.

“I’ll go get the car ready” you say, getting up from the floor and leaving Rooster alone.

I know what it is to hate what you see in the mirror

His words echo in your head, and several questions on the tip of your tongue are trying to make you turn around and find out the meaning behind his words.

You have to remind yourself for a second that you hate him, that he took everything away from you, and that if he has a problem, he has a lot of people he can talk to. He doesn’t need you.

Rooster and Jesse stay at the beauty saloon, and you decide to go to a tactical gear shop nearby, hoping to find the perfect Christmas gift for your nephew. You, luckily, haven’t bought anything yet. And you hope to find a leather flight jacket for Jesse and maybe even get him his own name tag. You thought ‘Marshall’ would be cute as a call sign.

You’re going out of the shop, gift secured in your bag, when your phone begins to ring. You pull it out of your jacket, smiling at the name appearing on the screen.

“Natasha Trace, I love when you call me”

“Are you dating Rooster and you didn’t tell me?! I’M YOUR BEST FRIEND” she yells angrily in your ear. You move the phone away from your ear, but even like that you can hear her.

“Hello to you too, Nat” you roll your eyes.

“Don’t roll your eyes, you little bitch” she says, as if she could see you.

"We're not dating"

"What? Hold on, let me FaceTime you"

She hangs up and calls you again, this time you can see her face frown in a confused expression. "Spill"

"Iceman and my dad were playing matchmakers, and we didn’t want random people at our table on Christmas Eve so… we lied,” you confess, sitting on a bench outside the beauty saloon. Rooster and Jesse are still waiting.

“And here I thought you were finally getting laid”

“Natasha!” you whine, covering your face with your free hand.

“What? Facts only”

“Oh wait, you know who we met this morning?” you say, trying to change the subject. “Mandy”

“Mandy as in Mandy the whore?” she questions.

“That one. She was with Solo. They’re dating” you reveal to your friend. Her eyes are widening more by the second.

“WHAT?! Oh my God do you think that’s why-”

“Y/N? We see each other again!”

You raise your head from the phone and see Mandy in the flesh. Gosh, you hate that stupid face she has.

“Mandy! Nat, wait a second, don’t hang up” you say while getting up “Two times in the same day, what a coincidence!”

She gives you the fakest smile ever, one that seems to be the result of years of practicing. “Yeah, it is a coincidence. Hey, Solo said that the four of us should go out one day, talk about the old times and all”

“Oh, I’d love to, but we have only this week to be with the family, and then we have to go back to the base for months and-”

“What about tomorrow?” she interrupts you, not being interested in anything you have to say. “There’s this pub in the center-”

“O’Malley’s, yeah. I know where it is. Owner’s a friend”

“See you tomorrow at 6, okay?” she insists, and you don’t have any other choice than accepting.

Jesse comes running out of the establishment and grabs your hand. “C’mon auntie, it's my turn!”

“Oh, what a beautiful baby girl! What’s your name, princess?” Mandy says, kneeling down to Jesse’s height.

“I’m not a girl, you old bat” he says, pushing her and running away. You see how Mandy falls and slap your hand against your mouth to not laugh. From any other person, it would seem like you're embarrassed by your nephew’s actions. Those who know you well enough, however… They know you're enjoying every second of this.

“I’m sorry, Mandy. My nephew Jesse is a bit… hot-headed. I’m gonna go with him and give him an earful. We’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Bye!” you move from her quickly, almost running, and when you’re far away, Natasha laughs hysterically.

“Jesus, I love your niece” she says.

“Nephew. It’s Jesse now. I’ll tell you later, okay? Gotta go”

“Take care, Thena”

You hang up and go with the two boys. “Jesse, what you did…”

“Auntie, I know it’s wrong. I just don’t like her”

“What did you do, young man?” Rooster says, walking with him to one of the chairs.

“This old woman who was talking to Aunt Thena called me a ‘girl’. So I pushed her”

“Jess-”

“It was Mandy” you clarify.

Rooster looks at you, then at Jesse, and then at you again. He opens his hand and high-fives the five-year-old. “Don’t tell your Mom”

“What are you going to wear for the party?” Sarah asks you during dinner, hours later, with a happy short-haired Jesse sitting beside you.

“What party?” you look at Rooster, but he shrugs, not having any idea what she is talking about.

“The Christmas Party! Didn’t your father tell you about it?”

You look at your father, who is very interested in the food on his plate. "He didn't tell me anything, as usual."

"Well, the town is holding a Christmas party on the 25th. A formal party. You have to wear a dress." She points at you with her fork. "You're not wearing your uniform, only a dress. Is that clear?"

"Yes ma'am. And what about Bradley?"

"I'll wear a suit, obviously. Have to match with you," he smiles and then leans to whisper something in your ear. "Please, don't choose the dress yourself. You have horrible fashion sense,"

"Says the one that is always wearing Hawaiian shirts"

"They're cool" Bradley defends himself.

"No, they're not" you laugh, and he kicks your leg under the table. "Ouch!"

"Sarah, darling, we need to do the Secret Santa sorting" Tom remembers his wife, helping her clean the table.

"Oh I have it all prepared!" She goes to the living room and comes back with a red Santa Claus hat. "All the names are in here, just pull one. Y/n, dear, you first!"

You smile at her, grabbing a paper from inside the bag and reading it. 'Rooster'.

Is this a joke or what?

You're getting ready to sleep, Rooster refusing for the second night in a row to sleep in the same bed with you, when you remember that you're supposed to meet Mandy tomorrow.

"Bradley"

"No, I'm not sleeping on the bed. If you want to be that close to me, you're gonna need to beg a little more" he says.

"You wish. Anyway, Mandy said to meet tomorrow. She wasn't accepting a no for an answer."

He sits and looks at you. "Are you kidding me?"

“I don’t like the idea either, you know.” you let out.

“Is Solo coming too?” you nod, and he sighs. “You know how to say ‘no’ or do I have to teach you? It’s not that hard, look: ‘something has come up, and I can’t’, ‘We already have plans’. Oh, and this is the simplest one: ‘No.’”

“I know how to say no, Bradshaw”

He laughs dryly. “If you knew how, I wouldn't have to be in the same room with my ex and her new boyfriend. Again”

He turns off the lights and lies down. He tosses around, trying to find the most comfortable position to sleep on the hard floor.

“I’m sorry” you whisper. But you know he can hear you.

“Don’t worry, Thena. Go to sleep”

A few minutes pass, and you can’t sleep. There’s something you need to find out. Something that you can’t stop thinking about, and you know that it will keep you up all night.

“Rooster”

“Jesus, Thena, go to sleep” he complains, but after a few seconds, he gives in with a sigh of defeat. “What?”

“What you said to Jesse… about hating what you see in the mirror… Is that how you feel?”

“Like you care”

“I don’t. I’m just curious. You’re usually proud of that stupid face of yours. So… it doesn’t make sense”

He sits on the floor, his back against the bed, and his head pressed against the mattress. “It’s the scars”

“Really?” you move closer to him, your hand a few inches away from his hair.

“Yeah… It’s a constant reminder of how I almost killed us” he admits, his sorrowful voice almost a whisper.

Your hand moves automatically to your belly, your fingers finding the scarred skin. You had your own scars, too. And you wish you could tell him that it wasn’t his fault but… it doesn’t matter how many times you’ve tried. He still blames himself.

“If it makes you feel better, lots of girls at base are obsessed with those scars. And even some boys.”

“Why are you trying to make me feel better?” he questions, and you also want to know why.

“Because I don’t want to see you broody all day. That wouldn’t make me look like a good girlfriend” you scoff.

“Aw, it’s little Y/n worried about me?” he mocks, lying down again.

“Good night, Bradshaw” you say, pulling the blankets over your head.

You dream about the accident. You dream about a young Rooster parking at the front of your house, ringing your doorbell repeatedly and yelling for you to open the door. It’s been years but it feels like yesterday.

Bradley’s coping mechanism when Carole died was alcohol. That same night, he got really drunk and drove to your house. It was late. When you opened the door, the emptiness in his eyes was the only explanation you needed. She was gone. And Bradley didn’t know how to live in a world without her.

You managed to get Rooster into his car, snatching the keys away from him and driving him to his home. You knew Maverick would be very worried about him.

But, you never made it to Rooster’s house. A truck driver fell asleep and swatched lanes, forcing you to swerve. The car crashed against a tree. You don’t remember a thing, just waking up with a big stomach wound and a body full of scratches.

Rooster took the worst part. People thought he wouldn’t make it, that he didn’t want to make it. He was giving up.

He opened his eyes again three days after the accident.

It wasn’t your fault. Or his. Well, he shouldn’t have driven to your house under the influence. He knows that and you, too. But nobody could have expected the truck. And he wasn’t driving when you crashed. You were driving. If someone was to take fault here, it should be you.

But it didn’t matter how much you tried to make Rooster understand that he wasn’t the one to blame. He never listened. And you know he never will.

#top gun #top gun x reader #top gun maverick x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #rooster top gun #rooster x reader #rooster fanfic #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw fic #top gun rooster #rooster x female reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #the christmas date #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw

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callsignthirsty · 1 year

Note

ur reblog of slider’s playlist has me thinking: could u perhaps write something where he fucks you like an animal .. because now that’s all i can think about. love your writing, you’re very talented !!

Hey Nonnie!

Hope this was animal enough for you (I may or may not have been listening to one song in particular while writing this).

And for those of you who missed the Playlist: you’re welcome.

Pairing: Ron “Slider” Kerner x F!Reader Word Count: 3820 Warnings: Smut, breeding kink (I went a little heavy on it this time… I refuse to apologize), under-negotiated kink (?), dirty talk, language Minors DNI

You Get Me Closer to God (I Wanna Fuck You Like An Animal)

It's a smooth flight into San Diego, and despite your early morning, you're practically bouncing in your seat as the plane taxis to the gate. There's a window somewhere behind the businessman to your left, but you can't see the tarmac around his padded shoulders.

Each minute feels like an hour as you wait for the plane to come to a final stop and for the flight attendants to open the cabin door. Then you're retrieving your weekend bag from the overhead compartment before you step into the mid-morning sun. The breeze rolls in from the sea, updrafts playing with the flirty hem of your skirt, coating everything in the unmistakable brine you've come to associate with Family Weekends on base.

The stairs down to the tarmac are steep, and you're forced to pay attention unless you want to fall flat on your face. When you look up, a blonde woman is reuniting with her husband. Your lips curl at the way she tosses his flower to the side so she can fling herself into his arms and give him a smooch before he squats down to pick up his kid. It's horribly endearing. Something straight out of a movie or the feel-good stories covered in the nightly news.

Bubbles erupt in your stomach when you spot him among the crowd. A hot, overpowering, all-consuming flutter that works its way up your throat until you're unsure if you'll laugh or throw up butterflies. He's a head taller than anyone else at the gate and as subtle as a sledgehammer when he elbows his way to you. He hasn't bothered with flowers; instead, he wraps you in his arms and trails a hand up your short skirt with none of the decency that his uniform demands. Luckily he isn’t dressed to the nines for your arrival. No. Just his usual, unassuming t-shirt and jeans. Because, after weeks of separation, with your face pressed into his chest and his palm cupping your ass before God and everyone at the gate, he isn't Lieutenant Ron Kerner. He's yours.

"Slider, come on," Ice says from somewhere over Slider's shoulder. "Goose's kid is right there."

You press a sweet kiss to the corner of Slider's lips, grinning at his grunt of disappointment before you turn to pull his pilot into a much shorter and far more platonic embrace. "Sli didn’t mention he was bringing you. I’d have dressed up.” Iceman chuckles with a roll of his eyes.

The three of you make your way from the open-air gate and into the terminal, and Ice shoves your bag into Slider's arms with a comment about keeping his hands busy that has you giggling. But it doesn't unglue you from Slider's side. He holds you close, an arm around your waist as you walk through the airport and toward the short-term parking garage.

You're ready to climb into the backseat when you reach Slider's car, but it seems Ice isn't coming with you. He pulls you into another hug before he lets you know it was nice to see you and offers Slider a quick wave before heading back the way he came.

"Where're you going?" Slider shouts in his direction while simultaneously tossing your bag into the backseat.

"Back to the terminal," Ice says as if it's obvious.

"Yeah, but why?"

Ice fiddles with his watch. "To hail a cab."

Slider rolls his eyes. "Don't be ridiculous."

But Ice shakes his head. "I'm not getting between–" he gestures vaguely at the two of you "–this." You thank your lucky stars for Tom Kazansky and his powers of perception — though you suppose it doesn't take a rocket scientist to piece together that you and Slider are itching to get your hands on each other. You figure Ice has heard all about Slider's intentions throughout many whiskey-induced ramblings. So if he'd been expecting Slider to insist, he'd be sorely mistaken. But you doubt that Ice is when he throws "I'll see you back at base" over his shoulder before vanishing in his venture back to the terminal.

"Don't wait up," Slider exclaims as he drops into the driver's seat and leans over to unlock your door. He has plans for you that involve a hotel and a king-size bed. Maybe even a couple noise complaints.

You study his profile as Slider puts the key in the ignition and the Trans Am purrs to life. But instead of releasing the clutch and putting the car in reverse, he turns your way. The hunger in his eyes is the spark, and you're the gunpowder. You meet in the middle. A frenzied locking of lips over the center console as your fingers tangle in his hair.

You grin into the kiss and nip at Slider's bottom lip, eagerly following when he retreats. The buzzing beneath your skin demands that you pull him in for more, but Slider really needs to get you both to the hotel. You clock the sympathetic look he gives you as he shifts the car into reverse. He gets it, you know. There isn't a doubt in your mind that he'd fuck you right now if it wouldn't get you both written up for public indecency. Reluctantly, you settle into your seat and fiddle with the radio.

The drive from the airport to your hotel isn't that far.

Well, it isn't supposed to be.

You've caught every red light along your route so far, and as another light in the distance turns yellow, your luck doesn't appear to be shifting any time soon.

“Fucking lights,” Slider grumbles. He didn’t buy a muscle car to drive the speed limit, but that’s exactly what he’s doing.

You lick your lips as the car rolls to a stop, savoring the taste of him that lingers there and growing increasingly impatient. "How much further?" You know you sound like you're six, whining in the back of your parent's station wagon an hour into a week-long road trip. You don't care.

"Five minutes," he answers, glaring at the red light. "More if this shit keeps up." You let out a discouraged whine. "I know, baby. But we're almost there." A gentle squeeze to your thigh has you melting, but it returns to the gearshift as the light turns green. You can't help but pout. It's a special kind of torture having Slider so close, feeling the ghost of his lips against yours but unable to touch him like you’ve imagined all this time apart.

Epiphany strikes as you drum your fingers in your lap.

Approaching what must be the millionth red light, you run your hands up and down your thighs, steadily inching your skirt higher and higher. Slider looks like he's about to ask you what you think you're doing when you maintain eye contact and carefully slip your panties down your legs. They fly into the backseat. Gone to the ages.

The hunger is back. Eyes dark as Slider drinks you in. Trailing up your legs to your fingers where they toy with your skirt and dip beneath the loose fabric.

"Eyes on the road, Sli."

The light's green.

The car rocks back as Slider steps heavy on the gas. His hand is on you as soon as he shifts gears. He tugs your thigh closer to him and flush against the center console before you let the other fall open with an encouraging moan designed to rile him up just like your skirt. Calloused fingers waste no time on your sensitive inner thighs, and he knows he's got tone when they zero in on your needy cunt. You shift in your seat to give him better access and are rewarded when he drags two fingers through your lips.

"Fuck, baby."

"Missed you," you say as you return the favor and cup Slider through his jeans. Palm grinding down against his fast-growing erection.

"I can feel that," he groans as his fingers leave you to switch gears, but they return before the car rolls to a complete stop. "Can't even wait until we get to the hotel, can you?" He doesn't wait for you to answer before easing a thick finger into you, and you toss your head back with a breathless, shameless shake. "That's why you wore your pretty skirt, isn't it?"

And why your panties are so kindly decorating his backseat. "Wanted your hands all over me."

When the light turns green this time, you put your hand on the gearshift so that Slider's can stay right where it is. You're rewarded with a toothy grin and a crook of his finger that has you keening, your fist tightening around his thick cock behind rough denim. "Soon," he promises, leaving you empty and patting your thigh. "We're here."

True to his word, you've pulled into the hotel's parking lot. Once you've parked, you straighten your skirt and step out of the car.

The concierge is a small desk near the front door set before an awful pistachio green wall. But Slider hadn't picked this hotel for its luxurious accommodations. Quite the opposite. Neither of you is willing or has the money to spend on something ostentatious — God knows the Navy doesn't pay Slider enough. You just need a door that locks and a big bed.

"Checking in?"

"Yes," you say, making your way to the desk and the man behind, cocking your hip as you lean forward ever so slightly to put your ass on display. A tease.

"What's the reservation under?"

"Kerner." Slider sidles up next to you at the counter, and you tune out the rest of the check-in process, more interested in guiding Slider's hand to cup your ass. For what it's worth, Slider doesn't skip a beat, reminding the concierge of his military discount as he kneads the cheek in his big hand. The desk clerk isn't paid enough to care and goes to retrieve your key with a near-dead look in his eyes, handing it over before mumbling something about calling the front desk if you need anything.

Slider stops by the car to pick up your bags before herding you toward your room like an over-eager cattle dog. He's right behind you as suddenly-clumsy fingers fumble the room key. The door unlocks with a heavy clack, and you have just enough time to register that one of the walls has been painted in the same offensive green as the concierge desk before the door slams shut, and your bags are unceremoniously dumped.

You’re crowded against the wall as greedy hands pull you up until your tiptoes barely graze the rundown carpet. When Slider bows to kiss you, you turn your head. "Sli, c'mon," you feign annoyance, gently shoving at his shoulders as he bites sweet bruises into your collarbone. "I wanna put my things away."

A thick thigh slots between your own, flexing against your throbbing clit as hands find your ass and hoist you the rest of the way off the ground and into strong arms. "Don't act all shy now," Slider husks into the curve of your neck, hot breath chilling the spit-slick skin and forcing a shiver up your spine. "We both know you want me to fill up that pretty pussy." And like that, he's reduced you to a pile of goo.

Breath hitching against his lips, you give up the ghost. Fingers tangle into his curls as you rock your hips over stiff denim, too drunk off the taste, the smell, the feel to stop even as the rough weave scratches your sensitive skin. He's already got you soaked, innermost thighs slick from where your needy cunt has begun to drip, so you tear into each other.

You pull Slider's shirt off to wind your fingers around his dog tags and give them a tug, explore his broad chest — smooth skin and well-hewn muscle at your fingertips — and he does the same. Gets rid of your bra only to mouth at your tits while you tug at his belt so you can get his pants pushed far enough down to get his cock out.

The sting of sharp teeth has you arching into Slider's mouth, distracted as his hands ruck the body of your skirt up around the waistband, the fabric wrinkling and creasing between you. It's the furthest thing from your mind as he helps you wrap your legs around him. "You ready?" he asks, and the heels of your white sneakers dig into his lower back as you nod and try to pull him as close as possible; then he pushes into you with a groan.

You love how Slider towers over you, muscles flexing as he holds you steady against the wall, precisely where he wants you, as his cock stretches you wide and fucks up into you with a pent-up, feral passion. How his curls begin to dampen and droop into his eyes. Your toes curl in your shoes, your head thunking back against the wall as he brushes against your sweet spot.

When Slider steps back, and your shoulders come off the wall, your whole body clenches. You bite back a startled yelp, fingers desperately trying to hold on but only succeeding in marking him with angry red lines.

He pulls out to set you on the bed, kicking his pants off as you toe off your sneakers before the mattress dips beneath his weight. The duvet is scratchy, but it's easy to forget when his lips trail fire from your hip up to devour your own, a heady buzz under your skin when he hauls one of your legs over his shoulder before he sinks back into you. And it's deep. Further than your fingers or toys and so much better because it's him caging you against the bed, bringing you to the very edge of sanity, and kissing you until you're breathless. Your cheeks burn with the wanton noises that tumble out your mouth as he leans forward, your hamstring threatening to cramp as he folds you in half, your ass lifting off the bed to give him a better angle to piston his hips into yours with a wet slap.

It doesn't take much in this position to push you over the edge. His gaze piercing as you cum with a cry, fingers twisting in the duvet.

Slider pulls out while your walls are still tensing, his fingers filling, crooking, and teasing to try and draw out your pleasure. But his fingers — while delightful — are a poor substitute for his cock. You whine, body shaking at the loss and the overstimulation as his fingers attack your sweet spot.

"Sli," you gasp, head thrown back and eyes closed, sneaky tears leaking into your hair.

"Hmm?" His free hand kneads at your hip, the crease of your thigh, the dip of your waist while he sloppily kisses across your neck, chest, middle.

"Baby, please."

Slider leans over you, lips inches from yours before he ducks to the side, your belly swooping when he captures the corner of your jaw between his teeth. "Don't wanna cum yet," he rasps, swallowing your mewl in an eager kiss. His fingers continue to tease you until your hips roll into each shallow thrust instead of jerking away.

You luxuriate in the closeness. Opening your eyes to see him above you. Gasping for breath and finding him there, too, in the hints of minty aftershave and the musky cologne you'd bought him for Christmas two years ago. Goosebumps everywhere you're pressed against each other as if your very skin is reaching out for a better taste of his tan skin covered in a sheen of sweat. A warm, tingly feeling blooms in your chest as you wrap your arms around his neck, and he holds you in turn. A lightheaded, giddy feeling that's never gone away when you're around him. One that only seems to grow with each passing day.

Slider isn't quite wrecked, but he's definitely on his way there. Pupils blown wide as he lines up with your quivering cunt and slowly buries himself back in you. Big hands press your thighs into the mattress, keeping them spread wide as he drives his hips into yours and sees to another bruise — this one indecently high up on your neck.

"God," he groans, "you're so fucking wet." His hips grind sinfully into yours until you're writhing, and your pussy gives a slick squelch as if to prove his point. Teeth tug on your earlobe. "What's got you so wet, baby?"

"You," you breathe out. "Fuck, Sli. You."

"Fuck yeah," he grits into your cheek before recapturing your lips in a filthy kiss. "So good for me, baby. So perfect. So wet." Calloused hands circle your waist before dragging down to frame your hips, pulling you onto him with every thrust. "You been waiting for me to make a mess of this pussy."

Your head thrashes to the side with an obscene moan, heat blooming from your cheeks down your chest as your cunt throbs. "Sli–"

"That's right," he purrs, thumb petting your pussy lips where they're stretched and tight around him as your mouth hangs open in silent arousal. "Gonna fuck you right through this mattress, get you all pretty and dumb on my cock, then I'm gonna make you forget what it was like to be empty. Keep you stuffed and dripping for days."

"I'm not on birth control."

Everything stops.

The creaking of mattress springs.

Your breathing.

Slider.

Your eyes, closed in pleasure a moment ago, open, but the look on his face is unreadable. You should say something. You open your mouth, hoping the words will come to you, but you're being manhandled onto your knees, face pressed into the mattress before you can get your hands beneath yourself, and Slider is so deep inside of you that you can practically taste him. He folds over you, one hand fisted in the skirt bunched around your waist, the other braced near your head as he all but growls: "I'm gonna put a fucking baby in you."

And oh.

Teeth clamp down on the skin behind your ear, hips humping and grinding filthy against your sopping core as he tries to work himself deeper. But it isn't enough. He pulls out and pounds forward, grunting in self-satisfaction as you scream.

You're far from the only one making noise now. Slider runs his mouth between moans that he's no longer trying to hold back. Can't seem to keep it shut. "You like that?” he pants against your shoulder blades. “I know you do. Can tell from the way you moan and clench around my cock." He's got your back bowed so much he's practically fucking down into you, trying to drill you through the mattress just like he promised.

"God, you're so fucking perfect. Taking it so good for me." Your face is hot, your heart catching in your throat as each heady groan vibrates through his chest and serves to wind you tighter. Slider nuzzles into the crook of your neck, mouthing over your fluttering pulse as one of his hands clutches possessively low over your belly. "Gonna keep you full of me." You keen, head thrown back to give him more access to a long line of unblemished skin. "Not gonna be able to go anywhere without it dripping down your thighs, and when it does–" he grunts, hips stuttering "–I'm gonna fuck it back into you. Fill you up again until your pussy's all sloppy, and you can't walk."

"Oh, fuu– Ron. God. Yes! Give it to me. Please, Ron, please.” It’s desperate, pleading, and needy all in one heaping moan. You're going to cum and he hasn't even touched your clit.

"That's it," he says, brows drawn in a determined line as he unglues himself from your back. "Gonna– fuck– you gonna cum for me?" His hips crash into yours without rhythm, chasing his own end and knowing from the way your walls quiver and try to suck him deeper that you're just as close as he is. But you shake your head, stubborn and desperate to keep it going, to ride this high for as long as you can. "Yeah, you are." His palm is sweaty where it still rests over your womb. "Then I'm gonna fuck you again. And again and again, until it takes."

You lock up, vision whiting out as pleasure overtakes you, starting where you clench around Slider still so deep inside you and radiating to your fingertips. And Slider's right behind you.

Usually, he likes to make a mess of you. Pull out and cum all over your pussy. Leave the tip inside so he can watch his cum dribble down your thighs and onto the sheets. But this time, his hips press tight to yours to ensure nothing goes to waste. He groans into your shoulder, pulling you back onto his dick as it pulses, and makes you take every last drop, a shiver running up his spine and his ears staining red.

When he finally pulls out, you stay where you are, too fucked out even to slump against the hotel linens. But you don't have to move a muscle. Slider slips your skirt down your legs and gathers you in his arms, surrounding you in warmth. You catch your breath between kisses, fingers twirling and catching in his sweaty curls and tracing over the day-old stubble that lines his jaw.

He presses a kiss to your forehead as your breaths even out. He opens his mouth, then closes it to collect his thoughts. "You didn't actually stop taking your birth control, did you?" he finally asks, voice uncharacteristically soft and brows raised.

"Ew. No," you huff into his chest. "I was horny, Ron, not stupid." Besides, that's something you need to discuss together before you start flushing pills down the drain. You feel his chuckle bubble up in response as he presses a kiss to your hairline.

You idly draw circles into Slider's chest as the sunlight creeps through your blinds and tracks across your bed, the tv remote lost somewhere on the other side of the room. Neither of you is willing to get up and find it.

"So…" you drawl as your fingers begin to trek lower than is purely innocent. "You want to put a baby in me, Sli?" And there's no way he can hide how his dick twitches with your legs are tangled together as they are.

"What can I say?" His fingers card through your hair to angle your face toward his and whispers against your lips, even though it's the world's worst-kept secret: "It's hot."

Your eyes droop to half-mast. "Well, I don't see any reason why we can't practice." You have the entire weekend and have yet to rack up a single noise complaint.

Slider's lips part in a dagger grin. "God, you're perfect."

#thirsty answers #thirsty's masterlist #fic: you get me closer to god (i wanna fuck you like an animal)#top gun 1986 #top gun fanfiction #ron slider kerner x reader #female reader #ron slider kerner x you #top gun smut #ron slider kerner smut #slider smut #ron slider kerner x reader smut #playlist inspired #song: closer — nine inch nails #no i will not stop thirsting over this man #the author's breeding kink may or may not make an appearance #(no i'm not sorry about it)#special guest appearance by the bradshaws

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topgun-imagines · 8 months

Text

Important question!!

#top gun #top gun fanfiction #top gun x female reader #top gun x reader #top gun fluff #top gun maverick #my asks #tom iceman kazansky #jake hangman seresin #top gun 1986 #tom kazansky x you #tom kazansky imagine #tom kazansky fic #tom kazansky smut #slider top gun #ron slider kerner #top gun slider #slider x reader #slider

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ai-luni · 2 years

Note

Could you please do a smut where slider is eyeing reader from across the bar and ends up walking you home and then yk… but like he is really “bossy” when it comes to bed, but not aggressive

I AM SO DOWN FOR MORE SLIDER CONTENT PLEASE.

So I got a little carried away... but I hope you still like it because it was too much fun to write.

Come on Baby

Ron "Slider" Kerner x fem!Reader

Warnings: Unprotected sex, awful jokes... I'm so sorry

Song rec: Closer - Nine Inch Nails

Wrapping up another week at a bar. You think you’d be sick of it by now but every time, you never regretted a night. Tonight was different, a bachelorette party for your friend Donna. Arriving at a bar near the TOPGUN naval station, you hear a lot about this place from her. She has a thing for pilots but she got engaged to a cop instead. It was then everyone realised she really just had a thing for men in uniforms.

You guessed it was already 10 and Donna was drunk as she usually was. Left to the devices of her maid of honour, she sent the bridesmaids scattering around the room. You sat at the bar barely touching your drink, instead having a good time with your best friend and fellow bridesmaid Lisa.

“How about that one?” She motioned over the pair of guys standing close to the restroom entries, “the tall ones have been watching you all night!”

She took a long sip from her straw giving you time to look before continuing.

“You reckon if you take the tall one, I could take the blond one? God you know I love blonds.” you could only laugh at her in disbelief but you really weren’t surprised. You watched as the tall guy across the bar noticed Lisa’s stare and nudged his blond friend to look too. “Come on! Both in uniform, good psychiques and those sunglasses.”

“You want me to go up there?” You said with a playful roll of your eyes. This isn’t the first time you’ve done your little one two with her. And with a dead serious look directly into your eyes she gave you a ‘yes’.

Donna made you wear these ridiculous hot pink ribbons tonight that you had both taken off and rested on the bar until this moment. With an idea you tied the ribbon loosely in your hair and started your strut to the restroom. Just like that ribbon was a paid actor, it gracefully slipped onto the floor behind you, landing at the feet of the men on target. You didn’t stop until you heard an “excuse me, miss” behind you.

You turned around and surely enough the blond was holding the hot pink ribbon out to you with charm oozing from his smile.

“Y/n oh my god! Don’t tell me you almost lost your ribbon. Donna would’ve killed you!” Lisa joined your side, her line sounding so artificial you had to hold back a chuckle - she was never one for acting or lying or hiding any kind of emotion. You took the ribbon from his hand and half hazardly put it back in your hair.

“Thank you…” you smiled towards him, eyes expecting a name in return.

“Tom Kazansky, you can call me iceman.” He was coy beyond all belief and was now eyeing Lisa.

“A pilot huh?” Lisa wasn’t hiding any of it either, eyes wide looking at the boy with her lip caught between her teeth.

“Yes ma’am,” he tips his sunglasses up and gets another good look at her, “and my RIO, Slider.”

“I’m Lisa, this is my friend y/n. Bridesmaids tonight.” She says. You got a good look at ‘Slider’. Handsome for sure but if he was your type, you were unsure. He kept an eye on you, probably already deciding out of the two that ice would take Lisa home.

“Always the bridesmaid, never the bride huh.” He chuckles, resting his arm on Iceman’s shoulder. Iceman cracked a smile but not much else of a response was given to the joke. You had your arms crossed, maybe this is why he didn’t seem like your type.

“Always the RIO, never the pilot.” You slipped out without much thought, something in this interaction felt like a challenge to you now. Iceman left out a hearty chuckle before patting his friend on the back, as if saying “good luck with that one”. He puts an arm around Lisa, a coy “let me get you a drink” was heard as they walked away. Leaving you and Slider there alone.

You let out a small awkward cough, he took a sip from his drink.

Eventually the conversation picked up, you didn’t completely dislike the man. He was cocky but he wasn’t disrespectful and he was damn nice to look at. He had a gorgeous smile but god if some vile stuff didn’t come out of it sometimes. It made you laugh though and with every drink you had, you felt yourself loosen up and care less how demanding he was.

“So.. why do they call you slider?” You took a small sip of your drink, at this point you’ve completely lost track of Lisa.

“Because the way I talk up girls, it just slides right in.” and that sip you took was put right back into that glass. He looked proud of that one.

“Gross.”

—

You took him back to your place, you couldn’t help it. It was his large hands on your hips, or maybe it was his smile. Whatever it was, you didn’t think he would get you but you caved in. The way he began to speak to you over a couple drinks. He told you to sit in his lap or take his hand or take him home, you were almost in a trance.

He couldn’t keep his hands off you, lips attached to your neck when all you wanted to do in the moment was unlock your front door. His hands never left your hips, from opening the door to stepping inside and locking it again. He was persistent.

“Where’s your bedroom?” Sultry with an American twang in your ear - a breath of fresh air compared to the loud club music playing all night. You pointed down the hall and for the first time since you got to your place, his hands left your sides. All you could do is stand and watch as he strode down the hallway, cocky kind of confidence in his step.

“You coming baby?” Damn straight you were. Your bed wasn’t made, he didn’t even notice. Because under three buttons, two straps and one clasp, you were all his.

You finally walked into your room to see him already making himself at home. Sitting on the edge of your bed and unbuttoning his shirt. Largest manspread you’ve ever seen, naturally your eyes had to look. Look… more like stare but he loved the attention and the look on his face told you so. The boy was smug.

“Do a twirl for me” he had a wide smirk on his face, the kind you’d read about in romance novels. Shamelessly staring at your hips.

“A what?” You were taken aback but not surprised at this point. He was certainly confident.

“You heard me baby.” He was on his feet now, shirt abandoned and hands back on your hips. For half a second, his grip tightened and he spun you around. His head craned back to get a better look of you. You weren’t sure what face you were making but from Slider’s response, he thought you didn’t look so impressed.

“What, are you embarrassed now?” He raised an eyebrow as though he couldn’t believe you��d already forgotten the series of conversations from earlier that night.

“And so what if I am?” Your eyebrows were raised to match his, a cheeky smile fighting its way onto your face now. Feigning innocence. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t make him hot in the ears.

“I don’t believe you.” His hand moulded around the back of your neck, bringing your face closer to his. Lips meeting again and again. He likes to hear the smacking echo. Slowly he backed you up against a wall, you only noticed when your back hit it. His tan forearm resting against the wall, next to your head. You let out a couple of deep breaths watching the way his chest would rise and fall in front of your face.

You met his eye, the signal you gave was subtle but he caught on. A flick of your eyes down and he was scooting back to give you more room to work. You started high, at his collarbone. One kiss at a time. By the time you got to his stomach, he’d had enough and grabbed the back of your head, guiding you faster. The express trail until you were on your knees in front of his belt. He continued to hold your face closer.

Your nose nudged his cotton covered crotch and the sigh he let out did something to the butterflies in your stomach. His hand didn’t budge, you were stuck nose to pants. So you did what any rational, hot and bothered gal would do. Kitten licks turned into full on sucking, until there was a stained patch of saliva on his white pants. He was sure a bit of that wet patch was from his own contribution. The action gave him barely any stimulation but the sight was enough to get him off there and then.

The belt started to come off the moment you sat back to take a break and admire your work. His dick loud and proud in front of you in the blink of an eye. You met his gaze again and he broke.

“God I gotta have you.” You shimmied your way back up the wall, working slowly at the buttons of your dress until it fell to the floor. Your hands laid themself on his chest quite comfortably.

“I’m all yours. Go on big boy.” Your teasing smile soon disappeared from the sheer speed at which he yanked you against him. Head in your neck and hands comfortably seated on your ass. Your eyes are already rolling to the back at the way his tongue worked your neck. You knew you were still having the same effect on him - your fingers scratching the short hairs on the nape of his neck and soft moans leaving your mouth - by the way his hips were subconsciously grinding against yours.

“Off.” He mumbled into your neck after yanking the edge of your panties and releasing them to snap against your skin. You did as he asked. His eyes on your hips as one leg stepped out of the fabric at a time. And once they were flung across the room, he pushed you back against the wall.

The same forearm was holding him up against the wall, the other he brought up to you. His flat palm presented out, waiting for your response.

“Lick it.” He demanded, however it came out more desperate with the way his eyes pleaded for you and his chest heaved. Again you did just as he asked, conjuring as much spit up in your mouth as possible and dragging it across his open palm. Slowly, feeling every ridge and calloused piece of skin. He soaked up the sight and let out a long insufferable groan to cope with it all.

His hand langed around his dick, dropping the spit on the carpet which you were too preoccupied to even make a conscious mental note of. His eyes were screwed shut, breath heavy as he hung his head next to yours. He stroked himself in front of you, your nails gently gliding over his chest as you took in the sight.

“Tell me something baby.” He could barely speak, he was so out of breath, “Tell me what you want.”

“I want you so badly.” Your hand covered his, encouraging him to stroke himself faster and the groan he let out beside was testament to that. It was all he needed hear and his hands were on your ass again. Your hand replacing where his once was, keeping him steady, keeping the friction going.

“Jump.” He demanded once more, laser focused on one task and one task only. Soon enough he had your legs wrapped around his waist, your fingernails digging into his back. He drove into you like he was waiting for it all day, all week. Relentlessly, You could hear the picture frame on the other side of the wall bang and jump and rattle at his movements. All you could do was arch your back and lean into him further.

Head resting against the wall, chest to chest and hand hanging to him for dear life by the neck. You were definitely feeding his ego with the noises you were making. He ducked his head to your wide open chest, leaving kisse. You felt his smile against your skin paired with a huff of his hot breath. Between the occasional groan, he coaxed you on with “that feel good” and “come on baby”, like every line he learnt was from a porno vhs but you found it hot.

“Hold on tight now.” He groaned, readjusting his grip on your waist. His hand reached down between your bodies, two fingers sliding across your slit in a messy attempt to find your clit. You could tell he was struggling to keep himself together and was desperate to get you off so he could follow suit. You grabbed his hand, guiding him where you needed him and all hell broke loose.

His groans turned to moans he could hold back anymore. The noises that echoed in your small bedroom, the pounding, the moaning. Both of you quickly covered in sweat, his grip slipping down your waist slowly but surely. The air was getting thicker and thicker.

“More oO moRe oh god Ron.” You undid in his hands like putty, hips grinding into his movements as you babbled out for more. He didn't think you remembered his actual name but the moment it left your lips, he knew he was a goner.

“COME ON BABY!” He let out loud pumped up yells into your chest. Hips bucking into you at a rapid but sporadic rate. He could tell you had ridden through your high and with a final yell, he punched the wall next to you and pulled out. Your hand was quick to take over. His grip on your waist tightened as he tried not to drop you through his release. He could barely keep his eyes open but boy did he try. The sight of your perfect, sweat covered stomach getting decorated from his cum was a dream come true for him.

He held you up a little longer as you both tried to catch your breath. Your hand completely nested in his hair, his forehead glued to your collarbone. After a good couple minutes, you both finally collected yourselves and made your way to the bathroom to clean up.

“You know, you punched a hole in my wall.” You laughed in disbelief the moment you saw it walking out of the bathroom.

“A big one?” He yelled through the wall, sounding concerned now. He does tend to lose himself sometimes. You shook your head as he approached you, entering your bedroom again soon after you.

“Oh no, I guess you’re just going to have to come back and fix it for me.” A playful sigh left your lips, slider laughed at your sarcasm until it processed what you really said.He contemplated if you were being serious or not for a second before grabbing your hips again.

“You mean it?” It almost sounded like he couldn’t believe it but was definitely on board to see you again. You demeanour grew even more playful knowing he was up for making this more than just a one night stand.

“Yeah but… I don't have money.” You twirled your hair and put on a fake innocent pout. He only chuckled and picked you up. He was fully prepared to throw you on your bed until he heard you laugh. Your gorgeous laugh, he was breathless for a moment. Was he swooning? Did Slider have a crush all of a sudden?

“Let’s get a coffee.” a smitten little smile played on his lips.

“Right now?” your eyebrows raised, it was half past midnight. He fake checked the watch on his wrist that didn’t exist.

“Well I ain’t planning on sleeping anytime soon, I don’t know about you.”

#ron slider kerner #ron kerner #ron kerner x reader #ron slider kerner x reader #slider #slider x reader #top gun x reader #top gun #top gun 1986

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callsignthirsty · 3 months

Text

Stuck at the Navy Ball

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

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

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

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

gif originally posted by neuromancer1888

Chapter 1: Under the Table

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

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

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

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

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

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

Singular.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Color you curious. “What’d he say?”

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

”Oh.”

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

“What’s the winner get?”

”Bragging rights.”

”And?”

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

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

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

”That’s quite a lot on the line.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s all for a good cause.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He doesn’t talk about me much.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Next Chapter

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callsignthirsty · 2 years

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Stuck in the Middle — Chapter 1 — Slider

Co-written with a friend who isn't on tumblr. Pairing: Ron “Slider” Kerner x F!Reader (this chapter), Ron “Slider” Kerner x Reader x Tom “Iceman” Kazansky (overall) Summary: The one where Maverick’s sister is on a mission to give her brother a heart attack by sleeping with not one, but two of his colleagues. Word Count: 3500 Warnings: Smut, semi-public sex, dirty talk Chapter: 1/3 Minors DNI

You'd been looking forward to a low-key evening with your brother and Goose. That, however, wasn't in the cards. Not because chaos followed Pete "Maverick" Mitchell like a shadow — though god knew it did.

But because all Mitchells had a bad habit of making a mess of things.

It started innocently enough: Goose reaching the door first and holding it open for Pete with a teasing "After you, honey."

"Thanks, dear." Your night began as most nights in Miramar had: the three of you out for a drink and a good laugh.

But this night isn't most nights. Unfortunately, you don't realize this until it's too late.

Pete has already led your small group to the bar when you hear it — or, rather, them — across the way. Pete and Goose aren't the only pilots at the bar, and while they've been known to get rowdy and start a sing-along or two, they're far from the loudest tonight. No, that pleasure goes to Hollywood and Wolfman, who seemingly have tone on Iceman and Slider. In and of itself, this isn't a bad thing until you hear them over the crowd while Goose flags down the bartender.

"Hey Tom," Hollywood greets Ice with a shit-eating grin. Eyes sparkling mischievously in the low light.

"What're you on about, 'Wood?" Ice doesn't skip a beat at the use of his given name.

Hollywood guffaws as if it should be obvious, but Ice's expression doesn't change.

"Oh, come on, man," Wolfman says, leaning in to slap a hand on Ice's shoulder. "The screamer." Slider nearly sprays his drink across the bar's lacquered wood, but Ice has gone completely still. The blood drains from your face as Hollywood and Wolfman's giggles increase in intensity until they're flat-out laughing, Hollywood wiping tears from the corner of his eyes. “Oh man, Slider,” Wolfman gasps. "You're lucky you were out on that date, 'cause man…."

Hollywood closes his eyes, free hand petting his own chest. "Oh, Tom!"

"Ah! Ah!" Wolfman tosses his head back and moans alongside his friend, and you're pretty sure that this is how you die. Of mortification. Cheeks cherry red and hot with the shame of not just being caught but watching as Hollywood and Wolfman loudly and clearly reenact what you'd thought had been a private moment just feet from you.

It doesn't stop there, though. Beside you, Pete scoffs. "Who the fuck would want to sleep with him?"

"Good one, Mav," Goose chuckles.

And you could've lived with just that: an awful imitation of your moans acted out before you, but it had to be worse. Ice's eyes find yours, holding your gaze for a second too long from across the bar as Hollywood let out another oblivious "Tom, oh god! Fuck me!"

And your brother, only ever paying attention when you wish he wouldn't, catches the exchange alongside your flushed cheeks.

"Ooooh! Yeah!"

Pete's smile falls. Shoulders rigid. Goose is stuck looking between you, Ice, and Pete at the sudden shift. "Oh shit."

Pete's the first one to move, and you're the next, catching his sleeve as he moves to abandon his drink. "Pete, don't."

"I'm just going to talk with him."

Of course, he isn't, but he manages to shake free from your tenuous grasp. "Pete!" you call after him, but it's no use.

"Hey," Pete seethes. "Kazansky!"

"Nick, do something," you plead.

"There're better men out there," Goose says, taking a lazy sip of his beer as he tracks Pete across the bar. "I'm kinda with Mav on this one." Because Goose is like your big brother, too, and has been for years.

"Mitchell." Ice's cold acknowledgment brings your focus back to the problem at hand. Your eyes meet Slider's over Ice's shoulder, but he only offers you a slight shrug. It must look like their typical posturing bullshit from where he's sitting. You try to warn him with a wide-eyed shake of your head, but you're too late.

"You want to explain this one to me?" Pete is doing his best to puff up and be intimidating while he gets in Ice's face, but it's not working if Ice's signature stoicism is anything to go by.

"I don't have to explain myself to you."

"You want to run that one by me again?"

That's more aggressive than Pete typically gets, and the others have begun to pick up on it. "Mav, what's goi–"

"Stay out of this, Hollywood." Hollywood's hands go up at his sides, and he steps back in surrender.

Ice sips his beer, cool and calm as ever. "If you have something to say, spit it out. I'm not a mind reader."

"You trying to pick up my sister?" The question freezes you in place, breath held and eyes wide. Helpless as Ice's facade cracks, and he smirks down at your brother, and had the circumstances been different, you'd have wanted to kiss it off of him — are still half-tempted to do so.

"Well, I wouldn't say trying."

Goose rushes to intervene when Pete reels back and punches Ice in the jaw. You jump from your stool, but you're moving through molasses, each step heavy and impossibly slow. Before you make it much further than your table, you're intercepted. A big hand on your lower back steers you from the fight with a calm casualness that manages to fly under the radar of the group scuffling in the corner.

Despite his size, Slider can be discrete when he wants to be.

"Ron, where are we going?" you ask once he's successfully guided you out of the bar and into the parking lot. "What about Tom?"

Undeterred, Slider rubs circles into the small of your back with his thumb, and you melt a little at the touch. But shouldn't he be helping Ice? Shouldn't you both? Instead, he leads you toward the back of the lot where The O's lights don't quite reach, and cars are lit by nothing but the dying oranges of the Sun setting over the ocean.

"Ice's a big boy. He can handle himself." You push Slider's shoulder playfully. Logically, you know that Slider's right, but that doesn't stop your mind from racing. So preoccupied with worrying about Ice and your brother, you're only half paying attention when you make it to Slider's car. Still, you smile when he crowds against you. "It's a good thing they didn't stick around," he whispers into your ear, and you shiver as your back presses into sun-warmed metal, "because Ice's name wasn't the only one you were screaming last night."

The ghost of his hot breath over your ear makes your cheeks dust pink, hands subconsciously rising to clasp at his broad shoulders as your eyes slip closed. It's true. The burn of their phantom touch is still hot beneath your skin. The push and pull. The thrill of being caught between the two of them. Ice and Slider. Slider and Ice. Taking turns to reduce your mind to mush and carry your body to new highs. Your thighs clench as an all too familiar ache makes itself known at your center.

Pete had been the furthest thing from your mind, then. And Slider's doing his best to keep your mind off him now, too.

Lips skim down your neck to leave an open-mouthed kiss over your pulse. "Ron," you gasp, pulling him closer even as you know you should be coming up with an excuse that'll bring you back to the bar. Back to help Ice. He's taking more than his fair share of Pete's anger — half of it should be aimed at Slider.

But he's too distracting as he presses himself against you, cages you against the side of his car with his hips, the door handle poking into your thigh as he ruts once, twice against you. You should not be horny — Ice just admitted to having fucked you in front of an entire bar full of strangers, his friends, and your brother a minute ago. A brother that he was currently at blows with over you. That thought, however, disappears from your mind as Slider knots his hand in your hair and pulls hard enough for you to whimper. He rewards your little noise by promptly parting your legs with his knee and pressing the meat of his thigh against your core.

And fuck, you should go back and tell Pete you're old enough to make your own decisions or make Ice promise not to actively try to give your brother a heart attack. But Slider is doing his damnedest to make sure you aren't thinking of anything that isn't him or this moment against his Trans Am. And he's everywhere: claiming your lips in a heated kiss, one hand still tangled in your hair, the other glued to your hip, thigh tensing against your clit, and his dick evident even behind his trousers as he presses it against you.

Slider sparks something deep within you, and you moan. Experience tells you the heat from his touch won't stop until it consumes you.

"Come on," he husks. "When am I going to get another chance to have you all to myself?" And your resolve crumbles at the question. Because in all the time you've been with the two of them, you've never had either alone.

"Where?"

A smile curls along your collarbone and disappears with a nip. "You're leaning on her."

You give him a gentle push back, craning your neck to give the Pontiac a disbelieving look. Slider barely fits in the driver's seat. Big man, big ego, small sports car. "You can't be serious."

"You don't want your brother to find out, do you?" he asks, arms circling you, holding you close while one of his hands finds the door handle. "It'd be suspicious if we both disappeared." He has a point there. Besides, where else could you go? The ladies' room? The men's? At least if you stay in the parking lot, the two of you have a chance at sneaking back inside before anyone notices you're gone — you'd just have to hope they were too caught up in the brawl to realize you were gone in the first place.

"Guess we'll have to be quick, then," you say before Slider kisses the smile off your lips. His approval a hum as he licks into your mouth. "You gonna let me in, or what?" Slider pulls back reluctantly, tugging you along with him so he can open the door. "What a gentleman," you taunt, bending to reach for the lever that will move the driver's seat forward and allow you to crawl into the back. You squeak when a hand lands on your ass, head thunking against the padded ceiling.

"We both know that's a load of crap," Slider growls, hands on your sides as he encourages you to climb into the coupe faster. He squeezes into the backseat with you and pulls the car door shut. It's a tight fit, but you like how he's pressed against you, manhandling you into his lap as your hands rake through his hair and his chapped lips find yours.

A hand caresses your thigh, bringing the hem of your sundress up with it until the loose fabric is bunched around your hip. You shiver into Slider's touch, melt into his lap and demanding lips and give your hips a torturous roll, revel in the way his breath hitches as you continue to move. Fingers clumsily undo his buttons so you can ruck up his undershirt and get your hands on more of him. Neither of you can fully undress, even under cover of dusk, but you'll greedily take everything you can — hands splayed low across his abs as they flex to bring his hips up into yours.

It takes some finagling to get your panties off while you remain on his lap. Slider gives it an honest go as you busy yourself with his belt, but you switch when neither of you can make it far with the other in your way. When your panties slip free of your legs in one piece, Slider's lips are pressed to the hollow of your throat — fingers brushing the strap of your dress aside so he can suck none-too-gently at the newly revealed skin. "No marks," you remind him with a gasp. The air in the car is stale: humid and heavy with the growing scent of sex. And you wish you could crack a window open, but Slider popped for fancy power windows.

Slider takes this moment to slip a finger into your slick folds, humming as the second follows closely after. He sucks at the spot again, perhaps hoping you'll have forgotten about the conquest of his lips and teeth with the stretch of your pussy around two of his thick fingers. No such luck. You cuff him on the back of the head, and he grunts. Caught.

"No marks." This time, he concedes with a gentle lick that is as close to an apology as you're sure you'll ever get from the RIO.

As Slider's fingers continue to spark pleasure all along your nerves, you do your best to get your hand around him, but the position is awkward at best, and your wrist is on fire from the strain. That doesn't matter, though, because Slider is more making sure that you're ready for him than he's trying to get you off before the main event.

The last rays of the Sun's light are just about to dip beneath the horizon, and the clock is ticking.

"Come here," Slider all but growls, but you aren't sure where to go — you're already in his lap — until his hand knocks yours free of his cock and fingers slick with your arousal begin to trail along the crease of your thigh and hip. With a pathetic nod, you hunch over to avoid hitting the car's low roof as Slider moves you until you're exactly where he wants you. The thick tip of his cock kisses your cunt before he pulls you down. You press a lewd kiss to his thundering pulse to hide your moan against sweat-slick muscle, hot breath puffing against even hotter skin.

Condensation drips from the fogged window like sweat beading along your skin. Nails digging for purchase beneath Slider's shirt but sliding uselessly across toned muscles. Each breath feels like a chore even before he starts to move, the air thick — stale with humidity and toe-curling want. Desperation. Maybe no one will see you, but god, they'll be able to smell the sex on you when you get back.

"Gonna make me do all the work?" Not that he could, given the limitations of the backseat, but the taunt is enough to set you into motion. Rise and fall, the thin cotton of your dress sticking to your thighs and doing nothing to mask the wet clap of skin against skin from reverberating off the glass. Slider's head tips back, missing the headrest to thunk against the angled rear window as the car rocks with you.

"You okay?" you pant, kissing his head where it's pink and dewy from the glass.

Big hands tighten around your hips. "Better than," Slider says as he plants his feet and thrusts. The overenthusiastic movement tosses you into the ceiling once again.

"Hey, watch it!" you hiss even as pleasure courses through your veins from the rough treatment.

"Can't sit still." As if to prove his point, Slider grinds into you, his hips picking up a pace different from the one you'd set and shallowly thrusting. It's good, but it isn't enough for either of you. "This isn't working."

"You think?"

Slider just levels you with a look. "Get out of the car."

"Excuse me?" You reel back as if he's slapped you.

"Get out of the car. This isn't working."

"You mean to tell me," you say, still seated on his lap, "that we crammed into the back of your stupid small car and got all sweaty, and you're just giving up?"

He shifts forward so that his cheek drags against yours and speaks directly into your ear. "Do you want to cum or not?" You nod, shivering at the drag of incoming stubble against your smooth skin. "I thought so." Sharp teeth pinch at your lobe, and you suck in a breath. "Get out of the car."

You groan when you rise off Slider's lap, clenching around nothing as you reach for the door handle. And as much as you miss the feeling of Slider inside of you, nothing comes close to the bliss that is the gentle San Diego breeze on your slick temples. Until Slider bends you over the hood of his car, lifts your skirt, and shoves home.

"Ron," you keen, back arching.

"I know," he husks, one hand next to you against the cherry red paint, the other holding your skirt out of the way against your lower back. "But you've gotta stay quiet. Don't want anyone to hear those pretty noises. That's how we got into this mess."

That's the other thing about Mitchells: you don't usually know when to keep your mouths shut. You bite your lip as Slider picks up a ruthless pace just to be careful. Shiver as pleasure jolts along your spine and the sea breeze cools your sweat. You tingle with the sharp chill of contrasting sensation.

It doesn't take long to get either of you to the edge. Unable to express your pleasure verbally, you drive your hips back into Slider's aided by the rhythmic sway of the shock absorbers.

Letting go of your dress, Slider drops to his elbows and stretches over you. "Where?" And typically, you'd have an answer for that, but realistically there's nowhere he can finish that won't be immediately noticeable.

Except.

"Inside." You're on the pill, so it shouldn't be an issue.

Slider's hips stutter in surprise, and he lets out a low moan. "Oh, fuck!" Now, who's going to get you both caught?

A hand slips beneath your hips, greedy fingers pinching and circling your clit until your eyes roll back, and it's all you can do to make sure you aren't screaming while you shudder and whine on his cock, a warmth blooming within you as Slider's hips snap against your ass once, twice, and still.

With a gentle pat on the hip and a satisfied sigh, Slider withdraws. When you turn around, flattening your skirt, he's already tucked himself back into his pants and is working on his shirt buttons. You rock up onto your toes and give him a lazy kiss. "You should go home," he says.

"What? No. That would be suspicious."

"No," he stops you. "It would be suspicious if we both left. But baby, you look completely fucked out. If you walk back into that bar, there's no way Mitchell isn't going to know exactly what happened." You gape at him and turn to the car to catch a glimpse of your reflection in the windows, but the lights don't reach this part of the parking lot, so you'll have to rely on Slider's word. Then you feel a thick ooze between your thighs, and you know you can't face your brother like this. "If he asks, just tell him you were embarrassed and went home."

"And what about you?"

"What about me?"

And that's a stupid question, isn't it? You're not the only one who looks disheveled or smells like sex. But you have to admit that between the spiked hair and the tuck of his shirt, Slider does look somewhat… normal. You wrinkle your nose. "You stink."

"And who the hell do you think is going to come around and take a sniff?" Certainly not Pete. After the fight, he'd probably spend the rest of the night across the bar from Ice if he and Goose didn't leave once it was over. Which left Hollywood, Wolfman, and Ice, but maybe Slider would want Ice to know.

"Fine," you concede, "Give me back my panties."

"What panties?" You give him a look because of course he wants to play dumb after having just fucked you: it's not the first time he's done this. You reach out a hand to his left pocket, trying to ignore his smirk as you fondle it but find nothing there. But when you reach for the right pocket, he stops you halfway. "How are you going to explain the cum dripping down your thigh to your brother, sweet cheeks? He was with your boyfriend all night."

"My boyfriend, huh?" you ask, rolling the term around on your tongue and cocking a hip. "You better hope he doesn't find out about this. My boyfriend, that is."

His eyes scrunch as he moves close enough to whisper into your ear: "Oh, I'm planning on it." He presses a kiss beside your lips and leans back, hand patting the right pocket of his service khakis. He'd have played it off as a farewell if anyone were to walk by.

Next Chapter

#top gun fanfiction #top gun smut #top gun 1986 #ron slider kerner #ron slider kerner x reader #ron slider kerner x f!reader #ron slider kerner smut #slider x reader #tom iceman kazansky #tom iceman kazansky x reader #slider smut #poor slider has like... no content #i'm fixing this #mitchell!reader #maverick's sister out on a mission to bone his rivals

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callsignthirsty · 2 months

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Chapter 3: Behind the Door

Pairing: Tom "Iceman" Kazansky x F!Reader x Ron "Slider" Kerner Summary: Interrupting Iceman. Word Count: 4100 Warnings: Smut, bets and wagers, semi-public sex, fingering Chapter: 3/4 Minors DNI Previous Chapter

Slider's head whips around, shoulders drawn tight toward his ears as the crash of the door startles you both.

"Kerner!"

The split-second of terror subsides with that voice.

Ice.

Slider grunts, stubbornly diving back between your thighs. A man on a mission.

"I know you're up here, and I'm giving you to the count of three."

"No," you whimper, hips rocking against Slider's fingers, urging them to work faster. "Don't stop."

"One."

Instead of responding, Slider's breath ghosts over your clit as he presses two fingers into your cunt, curling them to pinpoint your sweet spot and hurtle you toward the edge.

The click of Ice's shoes is loud as he stalks toward you. "Two."

"So good," Slider hums against your slick skin. You squeeze your eyes closed, keening at the praise. "Almost there, baby."

Sli hisses as fingers fist in his short hair and yank him from between your legs.

"Three."

You whimper at the sudden loss of stimulation and the pour of cool night air over heated skin.

Slider has the audacity to flash Ice a smug smile. "Oh," he says as if he hadn't known the two of you were no longer alone. "Hey, Ice."

Pale eyes narrow as if asking Slider if that's the game they're going to play, then Ice pulls a tissue from his pocket and holds it to his RIO. "You've got lipstick on your face."

Slider's tongue peeks out to lick his lips. "That's not the only thing on my face."

Ice doesn't dignify him with a response, only releasing Slider when he stands and steps back to give you enough space for Ice to resettle you—steadying you on your own two feet and smoothing wrinkled velvet before procuring another tissue to help clean up the rouge smudged beyond the bounds of your lips.

Once you're deemed presentable, Ice descends the steps with his hand wrapped around your wrist, guiding you with an insistent tug that makes you feel more like an insolent child than his date. You want to stamp your feet as Ice assures you that he only needs to talk to a couple more officers he wants to speak with before you can get out of there.

Between the forced separation through staggered travel to D.C. and the night's two encounters—both of which had taken you to the very edge before leaving you high and dry—you're at your limit. So, to say you aren't paying attention to the conversation is an understatement. How are you supposed to pay attention to anything when you're oscillating between the jitters of unsated arousal and lightly filtered frustration?

Because who the hell does he think he is—do they think they are—to draw you into their little macho pissing contest? It's a wonder Iceman and Slider can both fit into the cockpit with their egos so blown out of proportion.

What should it matter in the end? They know you're going home with both of them.

Not that you get to say any of this. Instead, you're left to stew with empty eyes, a pinched smile, and a clenched fist at Ice's side as he makes a good impression on a commander. You're scraping the barrel with each half-hearted laugh at the officer's dull jokes, the Brut in your glass swirling between your fingers untouched. Each shift of your legs brings you closer to angry tears as the spit between them turns tacky, the microabrasions from Slider's stubble smarts reminding you of your lack of undergarment and the dissatisfied, borderline painful feeling of emptiness.

But it'll be a cold day in hell before you let any tears fall. You have your own pride to manage, and besides, no one wants to mingle with the serviceman whose date's eyes burn a tear-stung red.

"How much longer?" you ask Ice once the commander leaves.

Ice gives you an assessing look, eyebrows pulled down, and his head lightly tilted. You can't tell if he feels bad about what he's putting you through or is confused by your shortness of tone. "Impatient?"

You scoff, barely repressing the urge to cross your arms. Instead, you take a sip of your Brut, nose wrinkling as it bursts bitter across your tongue. "Whatever," you huff, done with the conversation and resigning yourself to more of the same. Ice had said there were "a couple" officers he wanted to talk with, after all.

Ice draws a deep breath in through his nose; lips pursed as he looks up to the ceiling. You know he's looking for the right words. You're still determining what those words would be. You know for a fact he won't find them painted on the ceiling.

Lucky for you—because you're not done being upset with him yet—Ice can't pinpoint what he's looking for before you're interrupted.

"Woah!" a familiar blonde excuses, bumbling into Ice and nearly spilling his beer on matching whites. "Sorry about that, still got my sea le– oh! Ice, hey!" Excuse dropped as a beamish grin overtakes Wolfman's face, cheeks tinged pink with drink.

"Wolf," you giggle as Wolf pulls you into a better mood with a friendly hug. It's hard to be all doom and gloom when Wolf's involved; he's a veritable ray of sunshine. "Where's 'Wood?"

"Pfft," he snorts. "Where's anyone? I mean, 'Wood's somewhere with his girl, but one minute I'm with Sli and Chip, the next Sli's gone and Chip's found himself a pretty little thing to dance with." He shrugs, not looking too plussed about his situation.

"I'll dance with you, Wolfie," you jump to offer. "Ice is being boring anyway."

Ice frowns. Wolf laughs. "Who am I to say no to a lady?" he asks, pulling you into an off-kilter twirl. "Don't worry, Ice, she's in good hands!" he calls over his shoulder as you practically drag him toward the dancefloor.

What Wolfman lacks in prowess, he makes up for in enthusiasm. By the time Hollywood and his fiancée find the two of you on the dancefloor—not a surprise since 'Wood and Wolf are practically connected at the hip—you're a little breathless from trying to keep up.

It's a good time, but you can only be so distracted, and it's only a matter of time before you begin scanning the crowd. Either you'll find Slider, or he'll find you, but you'll be damned if he doesn't finish what he started.

You know Ice has people he wants to impress and a ladder he's trying to climb, but shouldn't you be at the top of his list? With this thought at the helm, it isn't long before you spot a head of brown curls that towers above the rest. You rock onto your tiptoes to feed Wolf a lie—bathroom—and push through the crowd alone.

Except as you get closer, it becomes glaringly apparent that this tall brunet is not Slider.

You scowl at no one in particular when you come up empty-handed.

As you decide to keep searching until you find Slider—and, ultimately, relief—someone grabs you from behind.

You whirl around, ready to smack the person's hands off of you.

It's Pete.

You smack him anyway.

"Ow!" Pete yelps, more from surprise than pain. You didn't hit him that hard. "What the hell?!"

"Pete Mitchell, who do you think you are grabbing a lady–"

"You're hardly a lady."

"–from behind like that. You almost gave me a heart attack!"

Pete disarms you with a light pinch to your side that has you clamping your arms against your sides to protect against further tickling. "Where're Tweedledee and Tweedledum? Didn't think I'd catch you without one or the other."

You suppress a roll of your eyes. "Who knows."

"Sooo," Pete drawls a bit awkwardly, "does this have anything to do with the weirdness going on between the three of you?"

"Oh my god. You know," you groan, unable to stop yourself from hiding your face in your hands. How embarrassing.

"I don't know-know," Pete's quick to correct, "and I don't want to. But I know something's up."

This isn't something you're delving into with your brother. "It's nothing. Forget it."

"Doesn't seem like nothing if you're avoiding them."

"Like you're avoiding Penny's dad?" you snark back. Deflecting. "I'm surprised you decided to stick around."

"He's old. It's probably past his bedtime," Pete says confidently, a smile tugging at his lips. "The night's mine."

"Whatever will you do with this newfound freedom?" you tease.

Pete gives a half-shrug, surveying the room. "I'm sure some poor officer brought his daughter so she could meet the love of her life."

You don't bother holding in a mocking laugh. "And that's you?"

"No." Pete makes a face. "But I can be her something for the night."

"Ew," you grunt because you so do not want to get into that with your brother. "I need a drink."

A hand catches your elbow as you turn. "Going somewhere?"

You refuse to look as you shake Ice's hand off and continue walking.

"So you're going to ignore me." It's a statement.

"Don't you have other people to talk to?"

Ice reaches for your elbow again, turning you so he can meet your eyes with his own. "I want to talk to you."

"That's my cue," Pete mumbles as he slinks into the crowd, presumably to find trouble.

Neither you nor Ice move, and your stomach roils as his jaw sets, his Adam's apple bobbing. "You're mad at me."

Part of you wants to tell him off. Instead, you shake your head. "I'm not mad. I'm frustrated."

"Okay," Ice says, with a curt nod, his shoulders—which had been bunched—rolling back as he becomes more sure of himself. "I can work with that."

Something about the way he says it rankles you, and you sneer. Earlier, you'd been all aboard hanging off Ice's arm, but now you're wound tight enough to burst, and all you want to do is take a hot bath. And now that he's made you this way, you're something that needs to be dealt with.

"Let's grab some fresh air," Ice says, loud enough to settle any eavesdroppers as he leads you toward the outdoor courtyard with a gentle but commanding grasp on your elbow.

But you pass by the turn for the courtyard.

"Where are you taking me?" The smell of cigar smoke thins as you walk along less-traveled hallways.

"I'm taking care of it," he says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world and continues to drag you after him.

Venturing further from the intended party spaces, the lights dim. You doubt the venue means for you to be down here.

Instead of voicing these thoughts, you scoff. "Helpful."

Making sure you're alone, Ice pulls you down a deserted hallway. "You're frustrated. I have people to talk to," he says slowly, sparing you a glance.

You frown. There goes Ice, talking about other people. Again.

He beelines for two unassuming doors, reaching out to the first, but its handle jiggles. Catches. Locked.

"I'm taking care of it."

Before you can challenge that assertion, Ice steps to the side and grabs the handle to the second door, marked STAFF ONLY.

It clicks.

Ice pushes you inside, following close behind.

The light coming through the foot of the door isn't enough to tell you where you are. But the clinical, electric-orange antiseptic smell of cleaning supplies invading your nose, singeing the hairs, is more than enough to give it away.

When you cross your arms over your chest, something falls to the ground with a wooden clack! "By dragging me into a janitor's closet?"

"Well, you said you'd be good for me, but that didn't last long."

You reach for where the handle must be, but Ice anticipates your moodiness and moves to intercept, deflecting your hand. "But the bet was that Slider couldn't get you off." His breath fans your face as he leans in, so you tilt your head away to avoid his lips. Stubborn. Undeterred, he kisses the long line of your neck, and the ghost of soft lips has you holding back a gasp. "So I'm taking care of it."

"What if it doesn't want to be taken care of?"

Sharp teeth are a shock beneath the hinge of your jaw. "Don't be a brat."

A strangled moan trips past your lips as he catches you off guard.

You don't have to see Ice to know he's smirking. "Noted." Then his hand is cupping your breast. "So, are you going to let me take care of you or not?"

You're not proud of how quickly you crumble, but it's like a switch flips. You hope Ice is okay with the whiplash because after an entire night of teasing, you're desperate for relief. "Please," you whimper, pushing yourself further into his orbit. You want so bad it hurts.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I've got you." Ice captures your lips in a heated kiss—nipping at your bottom lip so you hiss and open up for him. He knows what you need, and he's (apparently) going to give it to you.

Your fingers, clumsy in their haste, scramble for Ice's belt, but he brushes them aside. "This is about you. I'll get mine later," he says, tilting your head to the side so he can track wet kisses up to the spot just below your ear, electricity sparking down your spine as teeth tug at the lobe. "When I lay you out on my bed."

A high-pitched, excited moan is your answer, interrupted by Ice's fingers over your lips. "You've gotta be quiet," he purrs, voice low in your ear. "Wouldn't want anyone to hear us."

"Then kiss me." He does. And as you breathe in deep, the whole situation makes you feel like you're back in high school: shelving digging into your lower back like you're sneaking around, trading uncoordinated kisses in the janitor's closet with David Hodges until your brother finds you and rips poor David away for an ass-beating. But infinitely better.

Ice's lips are familiar. Urgent and addictive against your own as he swallows your whimper—nothing like David.

Ice pinches your fat bottom lip between his teeth before releasing it with a slick smack. You suck in a sharp breath, lashes fluttering open to look up at the shadow of him in the dark. "So pretty," he growls, fabric rustling as he hastily cuffs the sleeve of his jacket and pushes it up to his elbow to keep it safe from what he has planned.

Handfuls of velvet are bunched around your waist so you can spread your legs more freely, and Ice can slot his hand between them.

Threading your fingers through his hair, you return his lips to yours. You both groan from the kiss—you from the relief of his hands on you, the promise of a sweet release; him from how wet and needy you are (Slider's work, really, but Ice seems keen to reap the benefits).

When you break apart to gasp for air, Ice husks, "I'd get my mouth on you." And it conjures the image of Slider's wicked brown eyes looking up at you from between your legs, your cunt throbs. God, you want that. "Too bad I can't smell like pussy while I'm talking to the brass." But he allows himself the indulgence of a single taste, bringing fingers slick with your arousal to his lips.

You shake your head, unsure if his eyes have adjusted enough to see you. "Unprofessional," you agree, dizzy as his fingers plunge back into your heat. The heel of his palm grinds deliciously against your clit, his fingers working with the frantic cant of your hips as you chase a high that's walking the line of pain in its evasion of you. A steady, unignorable ache.

Ice drags his nails over the dense fabric covering your tits, your nipples pebbling at the faux cool sensation. "Tell me what you need," he whispers against your lips.

Relief is so close the air is thick with it. It tastes like Lysol. You stutter out a breath, and it morphs into a quiet whine. "Just like that," you mewl. "Keep touching me like that."

"Yeah?" Ice teases, a third finger sneaking into you and zeroing in on your sweet spot, thumb coming up to rub circles into your clit. What little light there is in the closet glints off the sharp point of his teeth as his lips part. "You're going to cum on my fingers," he declares, and your heart skips a beat when it jumps into your throat. "Then, you're going to go back to being my good, pretty girlfriend while I talk business," he presses a teasing kiss to the corner of your lips, and you can't contain a needy, lilting whine, "and no one will know you needed to cum on my fingers just to make it through the night."

"Oh god," you sob, nails digging into the starched fabric of Ice's jacket. You're right there. Liquid flames lick at your core, your tummy tied in knots and thighs jumpy as Ice speeds up his fingers, a muffled squelch each time his fingers bottom out, knuckles pressed tight to your cunt.

The two of you are so distracted that you don't hear the frantic footsteps until they're almost on top of you.

Ice jerks his fingers from you, yanking your dress back into place at the same time as he steps between you and the door to the closet, blocking you from whoever's about to fling the door open.

But it doesn't stop your eyes from meeting your brother's over his shoulder.

Pete slams the door shut.

Silence. Then: "You still dressed?"

Posture going rigid, Ice shoots the door a barbed look. "Maverick–" Pete shushes him through the door. He must be pressed up against the wood. Ice gives in but doesn't give up, continuing with a more hushed, "–what the hell?"

A pause. "That's not a no," your brother mulls. "Scoot over. I'm coming in."

"No!" You and Ice hiss simultaneously, but Pete is already squeezing himself into the closet with the two of you, pressed tight against Ice's back as he shuts the door firmly but with as much care as he gives his Kawasaki.

"Look," Pete whispers, and maybe his hands would be up in a placating manner if there were enough room, "I either hide in here with you two or hack it out there with Admiral Benjamin."

Without the distraction of each other, you and Ice hear far more measured footsteps hesitate at the far end of the hall before heading in your direction.

"I like your chances," Ice bites. "Leave."

Pete jostles all three of you as he turns to get into Ice's face as much as he can, given the confines of the closet. A shelf creaks, but nothing falls. "Well, it won't look good on you either," he whispers furiously. "Huh? Ice-cold, no mistakes, making out with your date in a closet like you're at junior pr–" Ice slaps a hand over his mouth, and the three of you fall deathly still.

The tension thickens until the footsteps pass you by.

No one dares to let out a quiet, adrenaline-shaken breath, even when the footsteps sound like they must have reached the other end of the hallway. Pete does, however, allow his shoulders to sag in relief.

Then, the footsteps pause.

They grow closer—louder—once more. This time, the muffled chaf of dress shoes on the carpet sounds like it's purposefully approaching the closet. Each step ratchets the tension up exponentially. You hold still, certain that if you shift your weight, something on the open shelving will give away your location. Ice, still shielding you from the door, brings a hand up to pet the back of your neck; the cool metal of his Academy ring—grounding any other time—sends a nervous trickle down your spine.

Benjamin is obviously after Pete, but how bad will it look that the two of you are in the closet with him?

There's a mechanical squeal of metal catching, handle turning, getting stuck. Jiggle. A grunt as he encounters the locking mechanism of the next door over.

Two shadows block the ambient light at the bottom of the door.

Well, you pinch your eyes closed. This will be embarrassing.

"Admiral Benjamin," someone calls from further away.

"Ah," the response comes uncomfortably close to your door. "Lieutenant…?"

"Kerner, sir." Slider. "I was with Lieutenant Kazansky earlier. Did you ever find Mitchell?

Two quick raps on the door. Pete flinches. "I believe I have." And Admiral Benjamin sounds smug.

The statement hangs in the air.

"In a closet, sir?" You can see the skeptical raise of Slider's brow in your mind's eye.

The shadow shifts. "I'm sure he came this way."

"Well, I just saw his RIO headed toward the taxis." A pause. "He's a slippery little shit. If he was here, he's long gone by now."

"Hm." Admiral Benjamin doesn't move, but from the sound of things, neither does Slider. "Well, Lieutenant. Really good stuff on the Enterprise."

Slider thanks him as the shadows disappear from the doorway and footsteps hurry off on a Goose chase.

When you're sure the admiral has left the vicinity—thankfully not asking Slider why he decided to stick around—Pete stumbles out of the closet with all the grace of a baby giraffe but none of the height. "Aw, Kerner," he teases with a dopey grin, "you do like me."

Slider snorts. "Don't thank me yet. The Geese are waiting for a taxi."

Pete's chin falls to his chest, and he mumbles a "goddammit" before hurrying to see if he can avoid Admiral Benjamin by sneaking through the courtyard.

"They're not the only ones," Slider tells Ice, nodding in the general direction of what remains of the Ball's attendees. "If you want to talk to anyone else, now's the time."

But as you practically tremble between them, Ice looks at you—really looks at you—and his features soften. He cups your shoulder, offering but not pulling you into his side. "I think I've networked enough for one night," he declares, tone light. His thumb rubbing back and forth, soothing.

Then those gray-blue eyes are on you, and his lips stretch into a slow, soft smile. "No one I can't talk with some other time."

"You sure?" Slider asks. Then, hushed, "I can take care of her while you finish up."

There is quite literally nothing you want less. The venue is clearly cursed, and you don't plan on sticking around long enough to find out what other ways you can get caught or edged tonight.

"The bet's off," Ice states before you can say 'no,' and your heart flutters. If Ice wasn't going to stick around for one last round of shoulder-rubbing, then winning was only a matter of getting you in a taxi.

For his part, Slider doesn't seem as shocked as you are by Ice's declaration.

Ice feathers a kiss to your temple before you can second-guess his decision. It's the most relaxed you've seen him all evening. "Let's get you a taxi."

"Wait." Slider pushes off the wall. He procures a key from his pocket and presses it into Ice's hand. "Holiday Inn. K Street. Leave in 10 minutes."

Ice fiddles with the thick plastic of the keychain but pays it no real mind.

"Don't give me that look," Slider boos.

Ice licks his lips. "You know our rooms were comped, right?" It's a perk of being summoned to the event, you're sure.

Slider takes a half step forward, the three of you the closest you've been all night. From this distance, Ice has to look up ever so slightly to meet Slider's cocky gaze. "You want to what?" he asks, voice going deep and quiet enough no one else could hear if they happened by you. "Pile into a single room at the same hotel everyone else is staying at?" He motions between the three of you. "How's that going to work?"

Some like to write Slider off as all muscle, no brain. But it's his job to see things others don't—things Ice doesn't. He knew they couldn't take you back to their fancy hotel rooms even before he came to the event tonight. The safest solution had been to shell out for a lesser room somewhere you were less likely to turn heads.

"She isn't exactly known for being quiet," Sli stresses.

Ice ponders the key for long seconds before he pockets it with a nod.

Slider smirks. "That's what I thought."

#thirsty's fics #fic: stuck in the. middle #fic: stuck at the navy ball #chapter 3: behind the door #tom iceman kazansky x reader #tom iceman kazansky x f!reader #ron slider kerner x reader #ron slider kerner x f!reader #female reader #tom iceman kazansky x reader x ron slider kerner #top gun smut #tom iceman kazansky smut #ron slider kerner smut #the '86 flyboys #because is fucking your rival-turned-friend's sister even fun if you don't have to be over-the-top sneaky about it?

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