#ron slider kerner x you

[callsignthirsty]

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

[blazingstar29]

When Tom dies, Pete moves into the spare bedroom. He sleeps in the single bed and showers in the guest bathroom whilst dust coats the photo frames and the scents of their intertwined love slowly evaporate. Phone chargers are still plugged into the wall and three-quarter full shampoos sit in the shower.

Months go by until Slider visits and forces him to go into the room.

"Are you going to lock him away in a dark room for the rest of your life?"

"Maybe."

But Slider opens the door and the curtains are still drawn and spiders have nested in the window panes. He holds Pete's hand whilst they strip the bed and holds him together when he cries over Tom's rusted razor by the bathroom sink.

The only thing they don't wash are the pillows. Pete sprays a dusty bottle of cologne into the air and breathes for the first time in months.

#whumptober day 16 got me feeling angst (this is not for whumptober but will probbaly be part of the you might be dying series ) #top gun 1986 #icemav #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #iceman x maverick #ron slider kerner #top gun maverick

[lannisterdaddyissues]

Maverick: Look, as a straight man I think—

Iceman: Wait, what did you just call yourself?

Maverick: … A straight man?

Slider: Oh, so we’re just saying things now? As a toaster, I—

Maverick:

#top gun #top gun 1986 #pete maverick mitchell #maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #iceman kazansky #ron slider kerner #slider kerner #icemav #iceman x maverick #incorrect quotes #incorrect top gun quotes #incorrect top gun #you can’t tell me this isn’t canon lmao

[otgo-brooklyn]

Older Brother!Slider with Baby Brother!Ice

Okay, so another contribution rant to the Top Gun Fandom:

Big Brother Slider, but ONLY, ONLY to Ice. And not the generic sibling relationship, no, but Ice is his Baby Brother.

For any who don't have that 'Baby' Sibling, as an eldest child, let me explain: A sibling is a younger, less better, version of yourself because your parents were a bit delusional and now there is Another™.

HOWEVER, a Baby Sibling, a BABY Sibling? No, they are essentially your own child, typically the youngest, they are your pride and joy, and when I tell you that with a Baby Sibling you become so protective over them you would commit horrible crimes for them- literally becoming an attack dog on a leash held by said Baby Sibling, that is a true Baby Sibling/Older Sibling relationship. The minute they are born they're just, your child, like so what the birth certificate says that their parents are my parents, that's obviously a lie. They legitimately become your child in more ways than one, whose only role in life is to be happy and loved. And this is SO the relationship between Slider and Ice.

Ice is the Baby Sibling™, with Slider as the protective older brother. Slider makes sure that Ice is happy, and cared for/loved, protected, everything for the Baby™. I cannot explain enough how much I love this head-cannon, and all the proof I'll ever need to explain it is this one GIF;

Look at Slider, the protective arm around the shoulder, the glare, the judgement in his very being, the way his jaw tenses-, compared to Ice, who is just sitting there, not even noticing, focusing on something else all happy like (Or as happy as Ice can get while in Ice-man mode (Or as happy as one can get when translating languages, if you saw my other post about Russian!Ice ;D)).

Slider nearly getting kicked out of the Top Gun program due to beating a fellow pilot unconscious because he DARED shit talk Ice

So they never gave Slider a DOB/specified age in Top Gun, but his actor, Rick Rossovich is 2 years older than Val Kilmer, so that only furthers the point of Slider's Older Brother Agenda

One time Goose was showing Ice how to cartwheel after Ice was interested in how he did it on the deck of the ship they were stationed on and Slider refused to allow Ice to do it because "What if he falls and cracks his skull open on the tarmac Goose!"

When reassured that Ice cracking his skull open isn't going to happen, and Goose was only going to demonstrate, Slider still wont budge on it. Ice never learned how to do a cartwheel to this day

Ice's foot getting caught in the track and wheels of a stationary, not turned on/working tank on accident and one singular, quiet, whispered "ow" after pulling it out of said track/wheel, was all it took to have Slider screaming his head off carrying Ice into medical absolutely positive that Ice just "Broke his own god-damn ankle, GET A MEDIC-"

Someone shoving past Ice on their way to the mess hall in a rush, causing Ice to stumble back literally 2 steps, and Slider getting in their face, slamming them into a wall with a "I swear you put your hands on Ice one more time, your not gonna have hands AT ALL"

He then slings his arm around Ice's shoulder and directs him to the mess hall, glaring at any poor soul who dared look in Ice's direction

They were at the bar and a woman started to approach Ice, who, of course was not noticing (he only has eyes for a 5'7" gremlin named Mav), and Slider shuts that down REAL QUICK. Like, no, not today Lilith, pick a different naval guy-

Give Mav The Talk when he notices Mav giving eyes to Ice, and Goose because Slider can never be too sure, and everyone observing this is sitting there like 'what the actual fuck' after Slider threatens to, and I quote, "French braid your fuckin' nervous system you shitty dwarf" towards Maverick amongst other colorful threats

It gets to the point where Slider is so protective over Ice, people don't ask Ice anything without looking to Slider for some kind of acceptance or denial, like;

Hollywood: Hey Ice do you wanna- Slider, the coldest look ever seen, actively dropping the temperature in the room while promising a slow and tortuous death: Hollywood: -help me figure out this trajectory angle equation for this [classified] mission? Ice, absolutely oblivious to the entire situation: Sure? I guess?

Its single-handedly the funniest and most terrifying thing to ever happen in Top Gun history, aside from whoever decided to put Maverick Mitchell in a plane

And the cherry on top is that Ice DOESN'T HAVE A CLUE at the entire situation

When someone tries saying how terrifying Slider is to Ice he just brushes it off, like, "Oh Slider? No he's very nice, he even walks with me wherever I have to go in the day. He's all bark and no bite"

And everyone in the immediate vicinity just looking at Ice either with pity or like he's stupid because he doesn't know

He never figures it out either

(This overprotectiveness doubles, if not triples when he meets baby Bradley Bradshaw, and Slider just cant compute because now there is another person who has my undying love and protection-)

(Goose once lost Bradley on a very important, very large Naval destroyer and the entirety of the Top Gun Class of '86 is frantically searching the entire ship before Viper finds out and one of them just stumbling into Slider sitting on a couch with Ice and Bradley just absolutely passed out, sleeping like a brick, essentially using him as human furniture, and the look Slider gives them promises a 100 years of death if they wake either of them up-)

(After Goose's death when baby Bradley lives with IceMav, he just clings onto Slider whenever he's over because "I feel safest with Pops, but Pops feels safest with Uncle Sli', so I'm safest-est with Uncle Sli'")

(Mav doesn't know whether to cry because that is so cute- or be annoyed that Slider is preferred over himself)

(After Bradley reconciles with Mav, he's caught sleeping(read absolutely dead to the world) on Slider's chest like when he was as a child and no one knowing what to do because "Rooster that is a 2-STAR ADMIRAL OF THE US NAVY-" Slider is just like "I'm safest-est", and Bradley sleepily chiming in with a "safest-est" and deciding to just go back to sleep like nothing happened)

#tom iceman kazansky #ron slider kerner #top gun 1986 #top gun fandom #peter maverick mitchell #nick goose bradshaw #Big Brother!Slider #Baby Brother!Ice #siblings #icemav #iceman x maverick #headcanon #Russian!Tom Iceman Kazansky #bradley rooster bradshaw #aviation #overprotective brother #I will write a fic about this soon #i call dibs #I just love this SO MUCH #you can't prove me wrong

[29625]

Slider is a kind of himbo who says “Can I watch Kitchen nightmare please?” to the TV voice assistant and continues to fail until Maverick comes in, grabs his remote, and screams “KITCHEN NIGHTMARE ON HULU” into it

#slider x maverick #slimav #top gun fanfiction #ron slider kerner #pete maverick mitchell #established relationship #established slimav be like #I really wanted to see old man! Slider so I’m still mad about TGM not featuring Slider #chefs kiss #Slider is the kind of a tough guy that mellows as he ages #in his defense he wants to be polite because you should always be polite to inanimate objects #Mav is like ???????? anyways can I rail you like Gordon runs the kitchen

[thebahwrites]

Slider & Mav + shovel talk...

Slider & Maverick - Shovel Talk (But I'm gonna surprise you <3)

Ron thinks he should be thankful that things worked out between Tom and Pete; it took them long enough after the Layton rescue but he thinks he should be thankful — if it had gone over a year, he'd probably start ripping his hair out. It was even worse not having Goose around to suffer along with but those were thoughts to be buried and not brought up again; the kind that led nowhere and only made him sad to begin with because what else there was to deal?

(Maybe he'd deal with it by himself and a bottle of Jack, when no one was looking.)

But right now, Slider found himself sitting besides Ice who was going over some reports ever so absently, muttering to himself things pertaining to their latest training hop - teaching at Top Gun wasn't a bad place to be so he didn't mind some of these more slowly-trickling days. "What d'you think about Matador Beach?" Tom finally speaks up when Ron was almost dozing off, laying on the couch, he blinks slowly.

"Like... as a place in general or..?" Ice grunts out a small laugh.

"For a date, Kerner." Oh, right, yeah, it made sense. Scratching the side of his neck, all Ron does is shrug, not really thinking too much about it.

"I guess it's fine if you like beaches? Like a picnic or something, right?" Between the two of them, Ron was more impulsive where Tom held back so his dates tended to be a lot less planned than the other's.

"Yeah, that's what I thought." Ice shrugs with that typical self-confidence of his and goes back to pour over his reports. Slider's eyes narrow as he realizes he should probably make sure this whole thing doesn't blow over Ice's face. Not that his friend needs protecting but it's always good to secure and Maverick was a damn menace who often needed corralling so a shovel talk, before things got super serious between those two idiots, was more than due.

It wasn't hard to find Maverick these days, if he wasn't on the tarmac or the bar or the hangar, he was at Carole's. (Whom Slider had been avoiding like the plague and he was sure to get an earful from.) So it was quite easy to, on the very next morning, when out for a run to detour so he'd hopefully find Mitchell there; which he did.

What Ron did not expect was to find said man just sitting on the front steps of the house, staring emptily into the distance with a blank expression and slouched shoulders. For someone who was, quite frankly not particularly tall or big - Maverick often took up a lot of damn space. So much so it was easy to forget the inches he lacked in height, making up for it being loud and brash and seemingly larger than life. The kind to not let himself get hit by anything and even if he did, brushing it off like water off a duck's back. Hell, he had come out of a tragedy into a rescue with what, a week to spare?

(Impressive was the right word but Slider would be damned to say it.)

He stands there, at the corners of the fence, watching Mitchell for a moment longer. In his USNA threadbare shirt and running shorts, the man doesn't move for a good while, like he's bracing himself for something, drawing sharp breaths and then burying his face against the back of a knee.

Ron decides to step back, seems like a bad moment.

Then every moment after that seems like a bad moment.

Maybe because he had never tried to pay close attention to Pete until now or maybe because he had never had the chance, always surrounded by others and the very very least Ice was always there too. Maybe he had never really tried to read more than just their regular banter but in the following days, looking for a breach, Slider realizes just how stupidly vulnerable Maverick is. How he keeps fighting uphill to stand taller than everyone, how he keeps his chin up taking hit after hit both metaphorically and physically when it comes down to it.

Their stupid beach picnic date comes and goes without any kind of hiccup and Slider was still trying to find a way to put Mitchell against the wall but the more time went by, the less he actually felt like doing it. It felt wrong, like kicking someone who was already down and he can't quite put a finger on the why. Maverick was a damn runt, is what he was.

It's exactly a week after that, when Ron realizes why, despite all their bantering and picking and arguing and more often than not headbutting, he can't bring himself to be actually hard on Mitchell. Sure call him slow and overthinking, maybe he just liked to cover all of his bases before spurring into action but for once, it at least panned out when the lamp clicked over his head like a cartoon moment.

"Hey." He calls out to Ice, as they're back where they'd been a week ago but instead of lying flat on the couch, Slider is standing right in front of the desk, grabbing his pilot's paperwork to make him look up, serious intent behind it. Tom looks up with a puzzled and slow blink, putting the papers down. They'd always been on the same wavelength

"Hey, what's up?" Ice picked tone shifts easily, he'd learned how to read Slider like an open book and he was glad for it. It was why, and how, they worked so well together for so long. So he could read the very real seriousness on Ron's voice and the very real intensity behind his eyes, adjusting his posture to make sure Ron knew; he was listening.

"Be good to Mitchell." If anyone, ever, held Ron Kerner to those words, he'd probably deny it. Hell, he wasn't so sure he was even saying them but fuck it if he hadn't rehearsed it inside his head for a while now. Holding Ice's startled gaze with firmness, he held a rigid finger pointing at his pilot's chest. "Don't fuck this up, man. I know you're the best and all so I'm counting on you, don't make me kick your blondie ass, got it?"

Tom stared back, surprised and clearly speechless, a little bit like a startled fish with his mouth falling a little open; Ron wanted to backtrack because it felt weird.

But someone had to keep an eye out for Goose's runt, right?

[Send me a Top Gun / Top Gun: Maverick prompt for a ficlet!]

#bah answers #prompts #ficlet #top gun fic #ron slider kerner #tom iceman kazansky #pete maverick mitchell #icemav #iceman x maverick #slider x maverick #IF YOU SQUINT #slimav #top gun 1986 #tg86 #abt: my writing #writing warmups #//trying to get back on my shit! #//is it good? probably not!!! #//but i'm writing so it counts #also #sloose #if you squint a lot

[i-wear-wet-socks313]

POV: you brought a camera to your top gun training in 1986 and are determined to capture every minute pt2

#top gun fanfiction #top gun movie #maverick x you #top gun 1986 #top gun fandom #top gun maverick #iceman x reader #tom iceman kazansky #nick goose bradshaw #ron slider kerner #slider x reader #slider #pov #reader pov #anthony edwards

[scottishaccentsareawesome]

(Iceman comes home after a trip and Maverick has a broken arm)

Maverick:...In my defense, I was left unsupervised.

Iceman: *glares at Slider*

Slider: I WAS BUSY, I'M SORRY...!

#incorrect quotes #icemav #slider & iceman #iceman x maverick #top gun #top gun maverick #you cannot leave maverick unsupervised for even five minutes it is unsafe for everyone #tom kazansky #pete mitchell #ron kerner #iceman kazansky #maverick mitchell #slider kerner

[pollyna]

Slider and Goose are slow dancing in the middle of Ice's new living room, whispering softly to each other, and Mav is looking at them and yearning to do the same with Ice, who's sitting to his left, his hand so close to Mav's that he could hold it if he found the courage to.

#ron slider kerner #nick goose bradshaw #tom iceman kazansky #pete maverick mitchell #me giving myself sloose? more than you think #established #sloose #slider x goose #yearning #icemav #-> they're dumbasses and in love god help them please #post movie #nick goose bradshaw lives #top gun (1986)

[rose-pearls]

The Summer I Turned Pretty

Here is part two, hopefully you will like it!!

I thought it would maybe be easier to say which character is which so here you have a list:

Belly: reader, Conrad: Jake, Jeremiah: Bradley, Steven: Javy, Cameron: Bob, Susannah: Iceman, Laurel: Slider

Series Taglist: @djs8891, @devrill (open)

Previous part

The night had been short, with your father telling you just how disappointed he was for leaving behind his back and Ice telling him to calm down but eventually you did made it into your bed. 

You woke up in a hurry, rushing to get downstairs and find your things, by some miracle everyone was out, and you managed to leave the house quickly. Bob had talked about going on a sailboat with him to go see the whales, the blond boy had proposed it last night and you hadn’t stopped dreaming about it. 

But just as you arrived the boat left the shore, and the only thing you could do was watch it leave towards the ocean, silently cursing yourself for forgetting an alarm.

Today was going to be a horrible day, you could feel it.

--

The house is more active as you arrive, Jake sitting at the table with a bruise around his eyes. His green eyes look tired, and you want to ask him how he is, but Ice comes in before you are able to.

“Guess what is happening later today?”, he seems cheerful, which brings a smile to your lips, he had always been a sweetheart, filled with love.

“What?”, you can’t help but ask, wondering whatever could have gotten your uncle’s attention.

“The debutant ball.”, you hear Maverick and your father groan behind him but Ice simply rolls his eyes and ignores them.

“Would you like to participate?”, the question is unexpected, of course you had heard of it, but you never thought of participating in it yourself.

“Common Ice she is not going to participate in something like that.”, your father says, and you can’t help but look at him slightly offended.

“Why not?”, Ice seems to be thinking the same thing as he looks at his best friend with raised eyebrows, expecting an answer.

“It doesn’t seem like the type of thing you would like to do.”, he says simply, and you take a moment to think it through. The deb ball seemed like something nice, large white dresses spinning around on the dance floor, but it would take a lot of your time. 

“Why don’t you go to the afternoon tea this afternoon to meet the others and think it through after that? We could go shopping and buy you an outfit or two.”, Ice says, excitement appearing at his words, and you can’t help but smile.

“I’ll do it.”, you say, feeling confident for the first time in a long time. You try to ignore the green eyes looking at you in surprise and only focusing on an eager Ice taking you in his arms.

“You will love this! Sarah loved it when she did it!”, there is a sad smile on his lips as he talks about his sister, but he quickly shakes his head before telling you to get ready. 

“I don’t understand why you want her to do that Ice.”, you hear your father say as you leave the room.

“I just want to see our girl in a white dress, at least once.”, there is something behind the words, some underlying meaning that you can’t seem to grasp, a sadness that coats the words. 

The only person you can see is Maverick and he has a hard look on his face, his eyes seem saddened before a small cheerful smile appears and he stirs the conversation to another one. 

--

The shop is big, tons of colours everywhere and you can’t help but snort at some of the options your godfather shows you. Your father is more on the side, looking unsure, until Ice manages to make him laugh with a large hat on his head. 

They quickly shoo you into the changing room and time flies by as you try out the different outfits, some of them making the three of you laugh until you can’t breathe and others getting the approval of even your father. 

You haven’t seen him so relaxed as right now, a constant smile on his face as Ice teases him about something during their college years. He always seemed lighter when he came here and was around his best friend. 

“Alright, this is the last one.”, you tell them as you put on a white dress. 

The both of them are quiet as you come out, their mouth slightly open at the sight of you and you suddenly feel nervous.

“You look so beautiful.”, Ice whispers before getting up and bringing you into his arms.

“Thank you.”, you whisper, holding him tightly.

“It looks stunning on you.”, your father says, suddenly looking emotional and you take him into your arms, holding him tight. 

“Thanks dad.”, you don’t know what you would do without the two of them, and Maverick, and you hoped that you would never have to know.

--

“Do not worry, everyone is nice in there, just be yourself.”, Ice says as he drops you off and you try to look confident as you leave the car.

“If there is any issue you call me and I’ll come and get you.”, your father says, looking as nervous as you but you shake your head.

“Don’t worry I will be back later.”, you promise them before entering the country club.

“Didn’t know you would be here!”, you suddenly hear behind you, and you turn around to find Bradley.

“Brad, hey! It was last minute, but I am supposed to meet the other girls for the deb ball.”, you tell him, starting to feel nervous at the thought of what was awaiting you there.

“You look stunning.”, he seems to be slightly in shock, as he looks at you and you can’t stop the blush from appearing on your cheeks.

“Thank you.”, the words seem to make Bradley function again and he throws you a dazzling smile.

“Why don’t I escort you to the room?”, you giggle as you take his arm and follow him through the many hallways of the club.

“And here we are. This is where I leave you.”, there is a silence around the room as Bradley wishes you good luck and you try not to stumble as you walk into the room.

Everyone seems to know each other as you enter the room, luckily there is a space left at a table and you sit down, looking at all the girls around the table.

“I’m Shayla, welcome.”, the girl has a sweet smile, and seems kind enough as you introduce yourself.

“I’m Nicole.”, you recognize the girl from somewhere, but you aren’t able to pinpoint just where.

The girls talk for a moment before you let out a sigh as you look around, it was a bit more boring than you thought it would be.

“Finding it a bit boring?”, Halo asks you and you can’t help the blush of embarrassment that appears.

“Sorry, this isn’t usually what I do.”, you tell them, and they all smile at you reassuringly.

“Not to worry, these things do get quite boring, but we have a remedy for that.”, Shayla tells you as Halo brings a little bottle out of her handbag. 

“How do you think that we survive these kinds of things?”, she asks you teasingly and you can’t help but laugh in answer as they pass the bottle.

“So, how are things with Jake?”, the name throws you off as you hear Nicole start to talk about what happened last night at the bonfire. So, this was the girl that Jake had been with, the only thing you could do to forget the hurt that was swelling up was drink a bit of the tea, forgetting for a moment that there was some strong alcohol in it.

The etiquette lesson is boring, even more boring than math class and for a moment you think that nothing exciting will happen until you see a flash of blond hair. Bob.  You quickly excuse yourself, rushing to get to Bob in time to talk to him.

“Bob!”, the blond boy turns around to find you there, a wide smile appears on his lips.

“Hey, didn’t expect you to be here.”, he says, and you can’t help but smile awkwardly.

“I am really sorry about this morning, I woke up late and by the time I was there the boat had already left.”, you try to explain and Bob smiles kindly.

“Don’t worry I completely understand. It was a bit short notice, but if you want, we could always go see a movie?”, the proposition brings a wide smile on your lips as you nod quickly.

“I would love that!”, you tell him, and Bob seems to relax at your words.

“I’ll text you the details then.”, he tells you and you quickly nod in agreement.

“By the way, you look absolutely beautiful.”, the words make you feel warm on the inside as you quickly thank him, feeling giddy at the thought of your first date.

--

The drive through is quite full as you arrive there with Bob, but you can only think of how nervous you are currently feeling. He had been an absolute gentleman, getting you something to drink and to eat before asking about how your day went. 

The movie started and as it went on you felt Bob’s hand next to yours, you slowly tried to move your hand towards his and after a moment feel his hand taking yours in his. The moment feels surreal, like it’s part of a movie but as you look at the blond boy and feel his soft skin against yours you know that it is real. 

The moment was perfect. 

Until the car next to yours ruins it. Bradley, Jake and Javy suddenly appear in your vision, the boys looking at you with smirks on their faces.

“Isn’t that your brother?”, Bob asks after a moment, and you can’t help but huff in response.

“Just ignore them, they’re idiots.”

You do try to ignore them, not listen to their overly loud commentary and little remarks but you can see that Bob doesn’t seem as relaxed either before they came. 

“I’ll be back.”, you quickly tell the blond boy before getting out of the car ignoring the three other boys starting to act like they are scared.

“Leave.”, you tell them quickly as they open the window.

“Can’t do, we are watching a movie, and we want to know how it ends.”, Javy says with that stupid smirk that he always has when he is with his friends, like he thinks that he somewhat better than you.

“You aren’t watching it, you are just ruining my date.”, Jake seems to look sour as the word ‘date’ leaves your mouth, but you ignore it. 

“Common we are just teasing you.”, Bradley says, trying to be the peacekeeper but you just feel pissed off.

“I don’t care, go away.”, Javy tries to say something, but you quickly cut him off.

“Either you leave, or I tell everyone about your secret Harry Potter fanfiction collection.”, this seems to put your brother back into the right mindset as he tells the others to leave. 

Jake is looking at you with his stormy green eyes and for a moment you wonder what is going inside of his head before the car leaves.

“I’m so sorry about that.”, you tell Bob as you enter the car, and he simply smiles softly.

“Don’t worry it’s not your fault.”, he tells you and somehow the both of you got closer to each other than before, you can see his baby blue eyes from up-close and you feel like you are somehow being pulled towards him.

There are only a few inches between the both of you when Bob asks you softly if it’s okay to kiss you and you simply close the distance between the both of you. His lips are soft, and his hand has taken yours into his again and you can’t stop yourself from feeling warm on the inside.

This was perfect. 

--

The house is quiet when you enter it, feeling giddy from the perfect romantic kiss, and the promise of another date. Your stomach rumbles and you start to wonder if there could be something left to eat in the kitchen but as you enter it there is only Jake.

“So, how was the date?”, he asks, a sarcastic undertone that makes your skin crawl.

“It went well, not thanks to you guys though.”, you can’t help but say, still feeling frustrated at the three boys.

“Oh, common we were just joking, you can’t take a joke.”, he spats, and you can’t help but stumble back a bit.

“Oh, come off of it Jake, why were you there? I think that they are far more fun things to do on a Friday night then go and ruin someone’s date.”, the boy shakes his head before starting to leave.

“Were you jealous, is that it? That someone finally pays attention to me?”, Jake seems to get even more tense at your words before his green eyes turn stormy once again.

“Why don’t you go look at yourself in the mirror some more, it seems like it’s the only thing you can do these days.”, the words feel like a slap in the face as he leaves the kitchen, leaving you behind feeling like you are losing everything without knowing why.

The only thing you knew is that this wasn’t the boy you had fell for all these years ago.

-

Top Gun Taglist: @bisexual-watermelons (open)

Main Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187, @nyx2021, @thestarspangledcaptain, @kmc1989 (open for every fandom)

#top gun fanfiction #top gun x reader #top gun imagine #jake hangman seresin #tom iceman kazansky #jake hangman x reader #rooster fanfic #rooster fanfiction #hangman x you #hangman fanfiction #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake hangman x y/n #rooster x y/n #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw x reader #iceman x maverick #ron slider kerner #pete maverick mitchell

[runandhideguys]

top gun (1986) as text posts part 2/?

1 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6

Bonus:

#guys I’ve got so many of these #top gun #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #rick hollywood neven #leonard wolfman wolfe #ron slider kerner #incorrect quotes #icemav #sort of slider x ice? #idk what the name is for that #again sorry if any of these have been done before #top gun 1986 #top gun maverick #you don’t understand I have over 30 of these memes

[ddejavvu]

ladies i've watched top gun 11 times in the past 10 days, please for the love of god send me requests for it

#'86 and maverick both encouraged!!! #i have a few that i'm working on in my inbox #so if you did a few days ago when i asked don't stress #they're on their way #i just crave the dilfy pilot men #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #tom kazansky x reader #iceman x reader #hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #slider x reader #ron kerner x reader

[callsignthirsty]

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?

[mcu-and-buckybarnes-things]

Ice: Will you be my best man?

Slider: No.

Ice: 😨

Slider: I’ll walk you down the aisle.

Ice: 🥺🥺🥺

Slider: Then instead of giving you away I’ll German Suplex Maverick in front of everybody.

Ice: …..Well, at least the guests will be entertained.

#I know cyclone will be entertained #cyclone be like do you need a spare groom? #icemav #ron slider kerner #tom iceman kazansky #slider x iceman #top gun

[29625]

The most frustrating part about writing a period-inspired songfic is that sometimes your favorite songs hadn't been released in the era you are writing in. Like, I'm writing this Slimav angst/smut set in 1993 listening to R.E.M.’s Imitation of Life…then realized the song was released in 2001 :(((( I’m like nooooooooo let me make Sli cry listening to this while being pounded by his short king. Let him cry over some stupid-ass cigarettes Goose used to smoke. Let them suffer with some good music in the background. LET THEM MOURN TO REM

#slimav #slider x maverick #top gun 1986 #ron slider kerner #top gun fanfiction #pete maverick mitchell #ao3 writer #Come on come on no one can see you cry #I’m so slow I’m so sorry for anyone who’s interested in my stories #just came back from the US suffering jet lag #I’m thinking about the alternatives #I love Disintegration and Wish by The Cure but neither of them match the vibes exactly #See this is why I’m so slow #New Order maybe? #Eh #Please drop some recs

[oh-surprise-its-me]

Because I'm scribbling a thing (I'll translate it too, cause it involves chris~.but mostly focus on jake inheriting Papa's tendency of launching himself into danger) I now have this! Maybe future Jake x roos, definitely Jake and javy being absolutely close attached to the hip since forever.

Roos and Jake are tryimg to work things out, but Bradley finds himself being jealous. he never expected to be, but he is the moment he sees Jake and javy being so close.

Javy is one really affectionate one, always going for some sort of touch. Basically the way tom and ron are, the way Ron would wrap himself around Tom when they were younger. He doesn't remember enough of how affectionate his father was with mav.

Jav and Jake talking, leaning into each other space, kinda conspiring and Bradley is like "oh... it's so obvious they love each other. How else you explain that?"

(Javy finishes scolding Jake for some sort of scary stunt he pulled. Jake being like "but I'm alive and well JavBaby! Walking on my own even!")

Hehe I’m going to make Bradley cry to Tom about his boy problems

When Jake dropped himself out of the plane and at Javy he didn’t even think about the possibility he wouldn’t be caught. Javy has always caught him. Anytime. Anywhere.

Javy caught him out of his plane. He sets him on the ground and starts shaking Jake. “What is wrong with you. You could’ve died oh my god Jake.” Javy grabs Jake into a hug and just kisses his head.

Bradley watches all of this happen from where he’s leaning against his own plane, he has that sinking feeling in his stomach. He knows what affection looks like between couples. He knows what he’s seeing.

-

Bradley thought him and Jake were clear. Bradley had been pretty damn obvious that he likes Jake.

Apparently he was blind and didn’t see Jake loving Javy more. Apparently Jake had no problem flirting with Bradley even though Javy had his hand in his back pocket minutes before.

Bradley can’t help the tears that come on his dads couch. It’s dumb but he can’t stop picturing the kiss Jake presses to Javy’s cheek. He hears the front door open.

“Bradley?”

Oh good it’s Tom. “Hey dad.”

Tom drops his bag and goes to his kid. He pets the hair out of Bradley’s face. “Hon why are you crying.”

Bradley sniffs. He thinks about it for a second before confessing, “I’m in love with Jake but he loves Javy. I just needed to cry about it for a while.”

Tom blinks at him. “Jake is in love with Javy? Hon are you sure?”

Bradley let’s another sob come out, he nods. Tom wipes his face from the tears. “You are your fathers son good lord.”

Bradley blinks, he looks up at Tom, “huh?”

Tom kisses his forehead, “Javy has a fiancé-”

Bradley sobs he can’t stop it, “they’re getting married?? Oh dad I can’t I can’t do that. I love him. I want him to be happy and if that’s with Javy fine but oh god. No never mind it’s fine. I’ll take Jake as a friend you can’t ever tell Ron about this oh fuc-”

Tom smacks Bradley. He knows he shouldn’t but he needs to snap him out the panic attack he’s heading straight for. “No baby. Javy is engaged to Bob. Jake is very single and I’m quoting Ron here, ‘desperately wants you.”

Bradley blinks up at his dad, “what no way. They act so together.”

Tom sighs. “Did Jake ever tell you that Chris thought Ron and I were together, hell that Mav thought the three of us were together.”

“No?”

Tom tucks Bradley under his arm, he kisses his kids head. “Kiddo Jake and Javy are exactly how Ron and I are, closer then brothers, love each other for no end but not romantically involved.”

Bradley shoves his face into Tom’s shoulder. “I have a chance?” Tom laughs. “More then a chance I’m pretty sure if you asked Jake to marry you tomorrow he would say yes.”

There’s a beat of silence. “Don’t actually ask him to marry you tomorrow. Ask him out for an actual date first.” Bradley laughs, “don’t pull what Mav did and ask Jake to marry me after only six months of dating?”

Tom grins, “your father is an idiot, but yeah don’t do that even if Jake would say yes.”

Bradley sits up. Plans are forming in his head. “I’ve gotta go dad I’ll see you later. Love you!”

He jumps off the couch and runs out of the house passing Mav on the sidewalk, who spins in place to watch his kid. “Brad drive safe!” “I will love you too pops!”

Mav shakes his head, their kid is wild.

-

When Jake opens his apartment door he’s expecting the Thai food. Instead is one Bradley Bradshaw.

Holding said Thai.

Jake sighs. He wanted a peaceful night where he could forget about how in love with Bradley he is and just catch up on the bachelorette.

There went those plans.

“Bradley? Not that I’m not happy to see you but what are you doing here?”

Bradley shuffles his feet. He tilts his head in a way that makes Jake wonder if that’s how he got the name rooster. Jake watches his mouth open and close.

Jake sighs, “just come in we can split the Thai.”

Jake snatches the bag of food out of his hand and leaves the door open. He pulls out plates since his original plan was eating out of boxes and having leftovers for tomorrows dinner. He knows Bradley will eat those leftovers. He guesses he can just go to his dads house for that dinner since cooking has been exhausting recently.

“Sorry if I’m ruining plans. I uh, just took the food from the delivery guy and said I was your husband so he’d give it to me.”

Jake slammed his hand into the drawer when hearing the word husband come out of Bradley’s mouth. “Oh god Jake are you okay?”

Bradley comes over and takes his hand, he gently bends the joints. “Any feel broken?” Jake can only shake his head, he’s starting to wonder if he’s unconscious and didn’t make it out of the plane yesterday.

“Bradley not that I don’t like you but why are you here. You don’t do this with me. You do it with Nat. Not me though.”

Jake sits down at the counter when he talks, he’s so tired.

Bradley at least has the nerve to look guilty. He sits next to Jake, “you’re right. We don’t do this. But what if we did?”

Jake laughs. It’s not funny. It’s ripping his heart out. Fuck he wishes he could hit pause and ask his dads for help. “Christ Bradley what do you even mean by that.” Bradley smiles, “can I just talk before you interrupt me?”

Jake pulls the wine he was drinking over to himself. He drains the glass before pouring a bit more, “Go ahead flyboy.”

Bradley inhales, he thinks for a second before he takes Jake’s hand. “I thought you and Javy were dating and I like you Jake. I love you. I want to date you, I’m sorry I ever caused you so many issues.”

That’s it, Jake died in the plane and his brain is running through everything he’s ever craved in life, he wonders when all of the celebrities he’s had crushes on will show up. He can’t wait to kiss Anderson Cooper.

“Jake? Can you say something?”

Jake blinks at Bradley. He sets the wine glass down and takes Bradley’s other hand. “On the theory that I’m currently dead, yeah Bradley I’m in love with you too, of course I am. How could I not love you.”

“Currently dead theory?”

Jake laughs, he picks the wine back up and drains it again. “Sure, why else would you love me back. I’ve been flirting with you for months and you’ve done nothing.”

Bradley looks like he’s about to cry, “you’re not dead baby.” He squeezes Jakes hand.

Oh fuck.

He’s not dead.

“Oh fuck Bradley you like me?” Bradley grins, “love is more the word I’d use.”

Jake feels his own tears run down his face. “Can I Kiss you?” Bradley nods, he moves his hands to hold Jake’s face, it’s a soft kiss.

It’s a fabulous kiss, Jake pulls away with a gasp, “Javy is going to be so happy he doesn’t have to hear me despair over you anymore.”

Bradley let’s put a laugh, “Nat is the same, she’ll probably throw a party.”

Jake stands, he grabs the food and drags Bradley over to the couch. “We’re counting this as a date and you’re not going to judge me for my tv shows I watch to relax.”

Bradley leans over and kisses Jake again, it’s a faster kiss, “I won’t judge you for anything.”

They both dig into the food, they’re glancing at each other more often then the tv.

-

They end up asleep in Jake’s bed, he’s curled on top of Bradley’s chest. Jake doesn’t normally get to feel small but with Bradley he does. They’re holding hands, they both sleep through the night with no nightmares. When they wake up in the morning Bradley makes breakfast for Jake.

It might’ve taken a while to get there but they did it. And now they’ve got each other.

#jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #hangster #tom iceman kazansky #mentioned Chris Seresin #mentioned Ron Kerner #slider is jake’s dad #top gun maverick #top gun #mentioned Pete Mav Mitchell #hope you like it Aki!!