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ddejavvu · 10 months

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Touch starved pilots of your choice cuddling their s/o headcanons

characters written: pete 'maverick' mitchell, nick 'goose' bradshaw, tom 'iceman' kazansky, ron 'slider' kerner, leonard 'wolfman' wolfe, rick 'hollywood' neven, beau 'cyclone' simpson, bradley 'rooster' bradshaw, jake 'hangman' seresin, natasha 'phoenix' trace, robert 'bob' floyd, javy 'coyote' machado, mickey 'fanboy' garcia, reuben 'payback' fitch

sfw, but cut for length. enjoy!

Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell:

depends on what age you're thinking!

if it's young!mav, he's probably just a liiiitle reluctant to let himself relax sometimes

he's sort of got his tough guy persona, and he's not used to dropping it, so when you get him alone he tries messing around at first

whether that's a few too many kisses, or a pinch to your side, he guards himself a bit before letting himself go

but when he does, oh, he's like a little kitten !

he lets you run your hands through his gelled hair (gross)

and it gets all misshapen and spiky

he probably just melts when you pet his hair like that, and he'll be snoozing on your chest in no time

now older!mav is definitely less of a tough nut to crack

he probably initiates the cuddling in the first place, he nudges you over to the bed and lays himself on top of you to crush you

you can push at his chest and splutter all you want, but he's made his choice on where he's going to lay, and it's on you

he likes holding you, but he wants to be face-to-face, so you can brush noses and bump foreheads

he probably tries sooo hard to stay awake so that he can soak in the time you're spending together but peepaw definitely crashes like 10 minutes in

Nick 'Goose' Bradshaw:

he also likes to be face to face!

buuut not for the same sweet reason as mav

he just wants to itch you with his mustache

he likes nipping at you too, he bites your nose to make you laugh

you won't be getting any sleep when you cuddle with goose, he just wants to talk and laugh and hold you the entire time

it's not a period of time to wind down, it's a big laugh-fest

and god FORBID you try to get up to pee

“Nick, I have to go.” / “Sorry, honey. I can’t let go. I think my hand’s stuck.” / “NICK!!”

Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky

he’s another one who probably has just a bit of trouble letting his guard down

he’ll cuddle with you no doubt, but he’ll probably always keep you in his lap or have some sort of upper hand in the embrace

it takes a while before he’s ready to be held himself

when he does finally give in it's so soft and sweet :')

he's had a really hard day and he comes home with his eyes drooping

you've planned a movie night but he doesn't even look like he could sit through an episode of a tv show

so you lead him to bed instead, and tell him you're sleepy, cause he won't 'ruin' the night by admitting that he is

you ask to play with his hair and he lets you, but he's not sure why 'cause you just said you were tired??

you basically have to trick him into being held but once his head is on your chest and your hands are in his hair he's gone.

he ends up mumbling something all sleepy and groggy like 'mm, that's nice' and his eyes are half shut and he's so endearingly tired :')

he wants you to do it all the time now, I'd say it's about 50/50 whether you fall asleep holding him or he falls asleep holding you

Ron 'Slider' Kerner:

slider's a big boy!!!!!!!

he's big and tall and muscly, the perfect cuddle buddy

he's probably more inclined to hold than be held

but he likes it when you face him so you can wrap your arms around his back :')

he probably likes it when he's able to bury his face in your neck/shoulder/against the top of your head

like he always wants his face snuggled in somewhere warm and nice smelling

and it just so happens his chest is an excellent place to get lost yourself

so you most of the time just nuzzle right into each other and get to snoozin'

i think he'd talk real soft, too, he'd murmur against your ear while you're drifting off, probably boring you to sleep with technical details of his flights but just before you crash for the night he slips in a little 'i love you, honey' and <33333

Leonard 'Wolfman' Wolfe:

he's a loser for his partner it has to be said

almost as teasing as nick is but not quite

he'll let you fall asleep he just wants to talk to you AllTheTime because he LovesYouSoMuch

he's a chatterbox and you'll be lucky if you get to sleep at a decent hour

he really likes it when you lay your head on his chest

'cause he likes playing with your hair and your face :]

sometimes he'll just use you as a little stress toy and squeeze your cheeks and pinch your nose and poke at your forehead

always making silly little jokes and telling you all about his day

down to, like, every comment one of his friends made...

'and then slider said he was gonna kill him but hollywood ran, so then they were just chasing each other around and iceman said-' / 'babe.. can we sleep? please?' / 'oh! right, sorry baby.'

Rick 'Hollywood' Neven

listen there's a reason he and wolfman get along so well

they're BOTH teases!!!

cuddling with hollywood is not really relaxing, because he's always pinching your sides or putting his nasty cold feet all over you, or pretending to knock you out by fake-punching you a bunch

you're just laying there and he's 'punching' your stomach, making fake punch sounds with his mouth, and if you push him away he'll pretend you've absolutely knocked him out, tumbling down onto the mattress with this dramatic thump and closing his eyes and sticking his tongue out of his mouth like he's a dead cartoon character 😭

he's like a dog you have to get his energy out before trying to rest with him or he just Won't Rest

when you DO get him sleepy, though, he's kinda incoherent when he's tired, so you'll be cuddled up together, maybe you're scratching his back, maybe he's playing with your hair, and he's just sort of mumbling nonsense until he finally drifts off to sleep

Beau 'Cyclone' Simpson:

will not be held

sorry! not happening

he's just so big and beefy and authoritative that he doesn't much enjoy being coddled

he loves cuddling with you though, he gets very relaxed just laying with you

he's a casual toucher, i think, so you can rest your head on his shoulder at the airport, you can hold his hand at restaurants, whether that be over or under the table, he lets you hang all over him however you want

he's not super into in-your-face PDA, though, so you'll have to be polite and considerate about it

actually in bed though, under the blankets at night?

he's so much more cuddly than you'd expect

he wraps his big strong arms around you and tugs you close and lets you melt all over him <33

your favorite place to lay your head is probably his chest 'cause it's so broad and firm and nice <3

he's a good back rubber so cuddles are always soft and cozy and sleepy

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw:

lord he's a cuddler

he's just a touchy guy, because he's probably gone without it for a significant amount of time so now that he's got you he's gonna enjoy it

big big big on pda, doesn't really care who sees

so that means cuddling in public, too

perfectly content to sit by the beach with you in his lap all cuddled back into his chest he doesn't care if anyone teases him

but back in bed he's a sucker for head scratches

if you have long-ish nails, enough to scratch at his scalp, he'll literally melt over you like an ice cream cone

his limbs go all gooey and he flops his head down on your chest, groaning and grunting while you scratch through his hair

he really enjoys sleeping on top of you, whether that be fully chest-to-chest 'you're suffocating me' cuddling or just an arm thrown over your stomach while he lays on his own

he likes being held, too, but probably prefers to hold unless he's having a hard day

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin:

big boy!! surprisingly fond of being held for everything we know about him

that cocky demeanor does not last under the sheets

he adores holding you, of course, he'll wrap his big arms around you and cradle your head to his chest

he probably plays with your hair, looooves it when you tangle your legs up with his own

he prefers if you talk to him rather than him talk to you if you're cuddling

cause he likes the sound of your voice and he loves hearing about your day

he tries to listen so attentively to what you're saying, but if you're taking a little too long telling him about that batty old customer that had visited the shop you work at today, his eyes are going to slowly start to droop and he's gonna let out a big ol yawn that means it's time for him to close his eyes

you always cut yourself off like 'sorry, jake. g'head, go to sleep'

and he insists you continue like 'nooo darlin' i wanna hear! keep going :]' except within two minutes he's dozing against the pillow while you talk about the old lady again

he's a simple man just talk soft and slow to him while snuggled up in his arms and he's gonna sleep no matter what you're telling him

Natasha 'Phoenix' Trace:

she really likes laying face-to-face with you!!

she's a fan of spooning, of course, she likes either burying her face in your back or letting you snuggle into hers

but she loves the intimacy that comes from being pretty much nose-to-nose with you

the type to lay there and chat with you mere inches away so that you're leaning in to kiss her all giggly and bashful every four seconds

she uses your cuddle time to tell you all about her teammates, what stupid shit jake said today, how bob almost tripped down the stairs, that fanboy's got a new girlfriend who wants to meet you, etc etc etc

but that means when you see them next you know all of the hot gossip about everyone and you giggle every time jake says something dumb and he's like WHAT.. WHAT IS IT.. WHAT DO YOU WANT WITH ME.. and you give nat this little ;) 'cause you'll definitely be talking shit about him later

she does this thing where she cradles the back of your head in her hand if you're face to face and she throws her leg over your waist and it gives you such intense butterflies that you need to close your eyes sometimes <3333

Robert 'Bob' Floyd:

cuddlebug <3

he loooves cuddling but if you do it face-to-face he's gonna need to be super close to you because he can't see without his glasses 😭

i'm taking like nose-to-nose so close that you have to cross your eyes to see him

otherwise he's pretty chill in what positions he likes

you love it when he reads to you

i think he might not be the most confident reader out loud but he does it anyways 'cause it puts you to sleep

he gets really sleepy really easily so sometimes it's best to refrain from cuddling in public

like you're out on the beach by a firepit and you're all snuggled up together but oops he can't enjoy his smores because he's sleeping on your shoulder

he loves it when you lay your head on his shoulder sm :'))

he wraps his arm around you and tugs you closer <3

Javy 'Coyote' Machado:

prefers holding to being held

probably a little less talkative than the rest, but that doesn't mean you never chat

he just has this insane ability to fall asleep anywhere, i'm talking slumped against the bus window, leaning against the wall, sitting on the ground, piloting his aircraft sorry

he likes staring at you, though, while he falls asleep :')

if you're talking to him he'll listen and nod and hum along and agree when he should, he's a very good listener

but slowly he'll start to fade a bit, and he'll sling his hand over your waist, smush his face into the pillow, and keep listening for as long as he can

slooooowly you start getting less responses from him, he's not reacting as much, but his eyes are always locked onto your face and he's got this lazy little smile on his face while he drifts off to sleep 'cause he gets to look at you the whole time :')

loverboy!!

Mickey 'Fanboy' Garcia:

the most talkative in the whole wide world

cuddling with him is barely even cuddling, it's watching him act out his entire day

'and then payback went like this and- BAM! shot it down.'

and he's up on his knees in the middle of the bed with his arms out demonstrating exactly how they'd worked through their training exercises that day

and he is loud and energetic and you're half-asleep like 'that sounds awesome, babe.'

he isn't one to stay in one place really, he likes tossing and turning a bit before he falls asleep which means that you are also going to be tossed and turned

he's a really shifty sleeper too so you'll wake up with your face in his armpit

if you're really sleepy though, he'll settle down, he'll pull you into his chest and let you fall asleep there

but he'll probably be on his phone for a bit, he strikes me as a crazy night owl

Reuben 'Payback' Fitch:

out in two seconds

there is no conscious cuddling with him

why?

because the second his head hits the pillow he's snoring

you can cuddle up to him but if he's cuddling up to you he's doing it in his sleep

you're actually so jealous of him bc you lay down for the night and he tucks his chin over your head or he snuggles his face into your neck and that's it.

he's out.

he's a clingy sleeper, though, so if you wanna read for a bit or use your phone it might be kind of hard

honestly it really helps your sleep schedule to sleep with him 'cause sometimes he's entirely wrapped around you and you can't move

so there's nothing to do but sleep yourself

he's like a living furnace i KNOW that man runs hot

you probably wake up sweating a bunch if you're all snuggly with him

blanket stealer. he somehow manages to tear them off of the end of the bed where they're tucked in and cocoon himself

and then you wake up freezing cold

when i said he snores i mean it he snores loud

it's sort of comforting eventually? like at first it drives u insane

but over time you come to rely on it as white noise and you can't sleep unless he's all over you snoring right in your ear and drooling on your shoulder

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i-wear-wet-socks313 · 1 year

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

#top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun movie #maverick x you #top gun 1986 #top gun fandom #tom iceman kazansky #iceman x reader #slider x reader #nick goose bradshaw #pov #slider #val kilmer #tom cruise #rick rossovich #anthony edwards #great balls of fire

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crownofdecitreadingrespectfully · 2 years

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TOP GUN FIC RECS

im a whore for these men. that is all.

*NONE OF THESE FICS ARE MINE. I AM NOT A WRITER. I MADE THIS SO I CAN EASILY GO BACK AND REREAD. I SIMPLY THINK THESE ARE WORKS OF ART AND DESERVE MORE LOVE.*

(my beloved writers, if you do not want your work here please message me and I will remove it -- p.s. i love you and i hope you know how talented you are <3)

Hangman

opposites attract pt.2 code baby - @topguncortez

secret girlfriend - @barbiewritesstuff

its not me, its you - @phoenixsbby

they all know, he’s in love with you - @rolycolysficrecs

lazy mornings and whatnot - @seresinhangmanjake

sunshine - @libraryofloveletters

Touch and Go - @seresinhangmanjake

Just a Little Weak - @seresinhangmanjake

douchebag jar @jupitercomet

double tap @roleycoleyreccenter

angst @whisperofsong

soft - @bradshaw-fanclub

you left me no choice but to stay here forever (right where you left me) - @sunderlust

The house that I grew up in @jupitercomet

De-instigating the Instigator ^

all this time @phoenixsbby

its all about you @bussyslayer333

she blinded me with science @wkndwlff

************************************

Bob

things one, two, three, and four - @callsignbob

the captain’s daughter - @callsignhoney

Unorthodox Pt. 2 - @specialbrewbutterbeer

Sweet home alabama - @3tabbiesandalab

on the same page ^

The Six Times You Met Bob Floyd In School and The One Time You Didn't - @lt-natrace

The Bob Club - @stormiwaves

a sky full of glow in the dark stars @jupitercomet

I just missed you is all... @gennyanydots

enemies to lovers hc @jostystyles

the five stages of falling in love @imjess-themess

senses @bradshawsbaby

delicate @laracrofted

************************************

Rooster

hey, bud - @callsignbob

what have you done? - @sadpetalsstuff

forever - @danny-cordray

the proposal - @thebradleybradshaw

All I Want, Forever - @bradshaw-fanclub

Liar, Liar - @callsign-milano

untitled blurb - @fitzells

a letter from the past - @rolycolysficrecs

“hey, it’s Bradley” - @domesticcaboose

it’s only my heart (save yourself) - @notroosterbradshaw

A Glimpse of Them - @bradshawsbaby

show me all the scars you hide - @bradshawsbaby

the boyfriend experience pt.2 - @notroosterbradshaw

speak now (or forever hold your peace) @softspiderling

the relationship experience @notroosterbradshaw

it was always you @tongue-like-a-razor

miscommunication @jupitercomet

5 times the bronco was a third wheel @thesewordsareallihavetogive

roosters brood pt.2 @tongue-like-a-razor

just roommates @risriswrites

************************************

Iceman

Steamy - @callsignbob

For what it’s worth - @phoenixsbby

The Future Awaits - @make-me-imagine

************************************

Slider

"Thinking of you" flowers @jupitercomet

************************************

Goose

Better Girls @jupitercomet

Gold Rush @duchesstypewriter

okay so after making this i’m kinda appalled with the amount of fics i read but it is what it is lol

Updated: 12/15/23

#hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bob floyd x reader #iceman x reader #tom kazansky x reader #fic recs #top gun recs #goose x reader #nick bradshaw x reader #slider x reader

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rose-pearls · 1 year

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Baby and Pregnancy prompts

Summary: some prompts of the reader pregnant or funny moment with the baby featuring: Bob, Hangman, Rooster, Iceman, Maverick and Slider.

I found some prompts and fell in love with them but couldn't chose which one to do or with who so enjoy multiple stories all at once, it may be a bit of a mess! Honour goes to the people that wrote those prompts!

Trying to figure out the baby's gender by analyzing their symptoms with old wives' tales – Bob

“Bobby where are you?”, you yell through the house as you leave the bathroom.

“In the living room sweetheart.”, you smile at the sound of his voice, having missed him during his two weeks mission.

“There you are my dear husband.”, Bob has a bright smile as you appear and immediately brings you into his arms on the couch, carefully kissing your forehead.

“What are you reading?”, your husband blushes a bit and it makes you even more interested in finding out just what he was reading.

“I was talking to Mayhem, and he told me that his wife and him looked at old wives’ tales to figure out the gender of their baby.”, he says slightly embarrassed, and you chuckle before kissing him quickly on the lips. One of your hands is rubbing your growing stomach, you were nearing the three months and you both couldn’t wait to find out the gender.

“Want to see if we can figure it out before the ultrasound in two weeks?”, Bob’s bright grin was the only answer you needed as he quickly nodded, excited.

“Let me see what we can find out.”, you chuckled at the sight of your husband so focused on finding a good question that would figure out if it was a boy or a girl.

“Alright, first thing.”, Bob turns to look at you and you put yourself comfortably on the other side of the couch with your feet on Bob’s lap, enjoying the soft massage he had started.

“Are your cravings more sweet or salty?”, that was a good question and although you had always been more of a sweet person, these last two months you had been eating a lot of salty things.

“Strangely more salty things, normally I’m more of a sweet tooth but baby Floyd seems to like salty things.”, Bob’s smiles was bright as he looked at you and turned into a loving one as he looks at your bump.

“Now, this is a strange one but there could be a difference if I put weight alongside you.”, this made you laugh and Bob started laughing as well, this man went on a run every day much to your sadness as it meant less cuddles but that proved that Bob hadn’t taken an ounce of weight.

“We can cross that one out.”, Bob sends you a wink and you smile tenderly at him as he writes something down before getting to the third question.

“Are you moody or more relaxed?”, he seems scared to answer the question and you rolled your eyes fondly at you husband.

“I don’t know, I mean I’m more emotional but I’m not exactly crying all the time. You were after all the one that cried when we watched Nemo.”, Bob looks scandalized, and you giggle softly.

“His mother dies! I’m only human.”, you are now full on laughing while Bob huffs and you go closer to Bob unable to hide the smile.

“You are right darling, so I think that to answer your question I am more relaxed.”, Bob nods and writes something down, moving the paper so that you couldn’t see it making you pout.

“This question is a bit weird but are you carrying low or high?”, his eyebrows are furrowed like he is trying to solve a math problem and you feel equally confused.

“Well, the baby is low in my stomach, but I think that is always the case. Why don’t we skip that one.”, Bob nods and looks at the next question he wants to ask while rubbing your feet’s.

“The next one is, are you glowing or are you looking more pale and tired.”, you scoff and Bob snorts at your reaction.

“So, Bob, do I look like shit or not? What a question is that.”, Bob starts to laugh, and you slap his arm and the WSO quickly recovers giving you a quick peck on the lips before looking at you with utter love in his eyes.

“You always look beautiful, but people have been saying that you are glowing.”, you can’t help the blush that appears at Bob’s words and kiss him on the cheek.

“True, although aren’t you supposed to glow when your pregnant?”, Bob laughs at your annoyance at the question and continues.

“I guess not. A last thing we can do is the ring test, you put a ring on a cord and how it moves will tell us what the gender is.”, you look at Bob impressed and let him go and take a piece of cord that is laying around and take of his wedding ring.

The ring doesn’t move first as you lay down on the couch with Bob above you until it starts moving in circles and your eyes widen just like Bob.

“Holy shit.”, the both of you whisper and look at each other in awe.

“Well judging by all of those answer we are having a”, Bob tries to put some suspense but at your raised eyebrows he chuckles and finally reveals the gender.

“A boy.”, he whispers softly, his forehead against yours and you can’t help but smile.

“You better be right Mr Floyd or I’m going to get my hopes up for nothing.”, he chuckles lightly and kisses you lovingly.

“Don’t worry Mrs Floyd, I’m always right.”, you snort at that, and Bob starts to tickle you as punishment making you laugh even harder.

"I feel like a fat cow." "Well, you're the most beautiful cow." - Maverick

Getting pregnant was a wonderful thing, but the one thing you hadn’t expected as much was getting this big during your pregnancy. Your first three months had been filled with morning sickness and cravings while your second trimester was filled with wanting to climb Maverick like tree, not that the man was complaining.

Now in your third trimester you were really getting bigger and as much as you loved the thought of your baby growing there you couldn’t help but feel conscious of the way you looked.

Maverick had gone to buy the crib for the baby’s room with Ice, they had painted yesterday, and the soft green room looked beautiful. Ice could somehow paint and had painted some little F-14’s on the wall making Maverick grumble about how perfect he always was before receiving a bit of paint in his face from Ice. You had to try and not laugh at Maverick’s scandalized face and Ice’s mischievous grin.

The both of them arrived, bickering as always and Maverick quickly kissed your lips before going up to build the crib with Ice. It seemed to be going well before you heard some swearing and a laugh that could only be from Ice. You thought of going up but another round of swearing followed this time from Ice and you decided to stay in the living room enjoying Maverick’s laughter.

Ice stayed for dinner, and you had tried to make something light for dinner, to maybe be careful of what you were eating and lose a bit of the weight you were putting on. Maverick had furrowed his eyebrows while Ice had just sat down and thanked you for the food before leaving to go back home.

“Sweetheart?”, you turned around from putting the last things into the fridge at Maverick’s voice and he looked at you with concerned green eyes while leaning against the door.

“What is it handsome?”, you asked after a few seconds of silence and he sighed while looking around the kitchen, he often did that when he was trying to find a way to say things.

“You know that you are the most beautiful woman in the world, right?”, you looked at him in surprise before snorting.

“I look like a fat cow.”, you said followed with a chuckle and you quickly felt the strong arms of Maverick around you.

“Well, you’re the most beautiful cow.”, you couldn’t help the laugh that came at his words, but it turned into tears making Maverick worried and he turned you around.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what is happening.”, Maverick looks at you with a soft smile and wipes your tears away.

“Don’t worry, although I think you know what the matter is.”, he has a knowing look in his eyes and you sigh, your husband knew you too well.

“I feel like I’m so big ever since the pregnancy and”, you can’t finish your sentence as Maverick kisses you deeply and you respond quickly.

“You are the most gorgeous pregnant woman I know, and you are perfect the way you are. Do you know how many times I want to drag you into our bedroom and ravish you?”, a blush appears, and you kiss Pete with all you have enjoying the feeling of his body against yours.

“You may be bigger than before but that is because you are carrying our child and you don’t know how proud I am of calling you, my wife. You are perfect just the way you are love, don’t change a thing.”, you can’t help the tears that come up at his words and Pete smiles lovingly before a smirk appears.

“Now, I’m going to show you just how much I love you.”, he picked you up and you started laughing but your laugh was quickly stopped by a moan as Pete dragged you to your room.

Person B – being usually the stoic one – somehow managing to evoke a laughing fit in the baby – Ice

It had been six months since you came back from the hospital with a beautiful baby girl who looked just like her father, with his striking blue eyes. Ice loved spending time with his daughter when he got home from work and adored her like she was the most precious thing on earth. She was definitely a daddy’s girl and Ice prided himself with it making you chuckle every time.

Ice had to go back to Top Gun for a meeting, but he had forgotten his lunch, so you decided to bring it to him and bringing your daughter along for the ride. She had been babbling in the back of the car as you approached the base and was looking in wonder outside of the car. You picked her up and just as you were ready to go, she let out a small shriek and you turned around to see a plane taking of and a toothy grin appeared on her face. She really was her father daughter you thought shaking your head fondly.

The Dagger squad had been training this month and Ice had a mission for them, but he needed to review it before telling Maverick about it. It was probably stupid to think you wouldn’t meet any of them on the way to your husband’s office and just as you turned the corner you were met with the whole squad chatting.

“Isn’t it my favorite niece.”, you heard Rooster exclaim and you had to stop yourself from laughing as the grown man started babbling to the 6-month-old baby. The rest quickly joined him and started trying to make her laugh, but it was in vain.

They had been trying to make her laugh for the last two weeks, but it seemed like it wasn’t working for the moment. Maverick joined them quickly wondering where they were and when he saw his goddaughter a bright smile appeared.

“There is my favorite Kazansky, how are you pretty girl?”, she started babbling in Maverick’s arms and the man was nodding along seriously like he was having a real conversation.

“What am I hearing about a favorite Kazansky?”, a wide smiled appeared as you felt Ice’s arms around your waist and Maverick looked at Ice unimpressed.

“She is cuter than you, get over it.”, Ice rolls his eyes, and you chuckle before Ice looks at his daughter with a wide smile.

“Your godfather is a bit of an idiot, isn’t he?”, you expected your daughter to babble or just try to go in her father’s arms, but she suddenly started giggling and everyone was surprised.

Ice looked stunned and you also started laughing at Maverick’s and Ice’s twin expression of shock, the Dagger squad also erupted in laughter.

“See, she agrees with me. Don’t you? Maverick is an idiot.”, she starts giggling again and Ice is smirking at his wingmen who is looking at your daughter in betrayal.

“How dare you? This is a betrayal!”, however his betrayed look doesn’t last long as she continues to giggle, and Maverick can’t stop the smile that appears before giving her back to Ice.

“I can’t believe Iceman managed to make her laugh!”, Ice looks at them with a winning smile before taking your hand and leading you towards his office. You daughter waving back at the Dagger squad as you left.

having the baby wear matching clothes with them – Goose

“Goose, we need to leave in ten minutes are you ready?”, you yelled through the house, wondering where your husband and son went.

“Just a minute sweet cheek.”, you rolled your eyes at the nickname but couldn’t stop the smile that appeared.

You started checking if you had everything to go to Ice’s house for the monthly barbecue with the class of ’86. All of Bradley’s stuff where there with an extra set of clothes if something happens. Just as you were wondering where your husband was you heard footsteps and a second later, he was there. Even years later Goose still wore his Hawaiian shirts and even though they sometimes looked ridiculous, it was still what made him Goose and you wouldn’t trade them for the world.

What you hadn’t expected to see was your son with a matching Hawaiian shirt, white undershirt and little jeans. They looked like twins with 30 years of age difference. You couldn’t stop looking at them in surprise and Goose chuckled.

“So, what do you think?”, you let out a soft laugh and looked at the two most important men of your life.

“You two are a sight for sore eyes.”, this made Goose smile proudly and Bradley followed his dad and babbled a few words.

“Now we only need to find you a matching shirt and we will all be matching. Isn’t that a great idea Bradley?”, he asks as he tickles your son’s side and the baby babbles happily making Goose look at you with a smirk. You on the other side didn’t feel reassured at all, as much as Goose loved those, they would certainly look like shit on you.

“No way, I draw the line there.”, Goose pouts but you know that he will bring the idea back tonight and everyday if he has too until you give in. You feel his body against your back and his arm around your waist as you pick up Bradley’s bag.

“Ready to go beautiful?”, you nodded and took Bradley into your arms while Goose went to put everything in the car.

“Don’t you look handsome?”, Bradley has a wide grin, and you can’t help but blow a few raspberries making him laugh. Goose looks at you with a loving grin and takes the opportunity to kiss you longingly before taking you to the car.

You quickly arrive at Ice’s house and start to wonder how the others will react at Bradley and Goose’s matching outfits. Just as you are ready to go to the backyard Goose stops you and after looking at him puzzled, he takes out mini aviator sunglasses out his pocket and puts them on Bradley before putting his on.

“You really thought about this for far too long darling.”, Goose laughs before taking your hand and leading you to the backyard.

Everyone seems to be there, and you have to stop yourself from laughing at Maverick’s reaction when he sees your husband and son.

“Goose, what did you do? You gave him your bad taste in clothes.”, you can’t help the snort and Goose rolls his eyes playfully while the rest turn around to look at the commotion.

Slider spits out the beer he was drinking while Ice is laughing at his place at the barbecue, Hollywood and Wolfman are shaking their head fondly while Merlin is looking in shock.

“Please, you are just jealous of how great we look.”, everyone starts to laugh, and they start to talk to Bradley with their baby voices and a lot of pictures are taken during the afternoon.

wait a minute. heartbeats?! plural?! we’re having twins/triplets/etc?! - Rooster

It had been a month since you had found out you were pregnant, and you were finally going to the doctor to see how the baby was doing and if everything was going accordingly. Bradley had taken the day of and had been like an excited puppy since this morning.

Bradley was probably the most excited parent in the waiting room as he had a bright smile and was telling everyone he was having a child, making a few people chuckle at his excitement.

“Mrs Bradshaw?”, you take Bradley’s hand in yours and lead him towards the designated room where he quickly sits down on the chair next to the bed.

“How is everything going? No complication?”, you shake your head while Bradley looks a bit curious around.

“Everything is going well, just cravings but otherwise no morning sickness.”, the doctor nods and starts to put the gel on the small bump.

“This is going to be cold.”, Bradley takes your hand in his and you smile softly at him, squeezing his hand reassuringly.

“You can hear the heartbeats of the baby’s right now.”, you were so engrossed by the image and the sound that you didn’t paid attention to what she said exactly but Bradley apparently did as he was hanging onto every word she was saying.

“Wait a minute. Heartbeats?! Plural?!”, you looked at him surprised while he looked like he was ready to faint, and you turned back to your doctor who was chuckling.

“Yes plural, congratulations you are having twins.”, shock couldn’t even describe what you were feeling, and Bradley seemed to disfunction at the words.

“Twins? Two babies? Holy shit.”, you slapped his arm, and he quickly apologizes to the doctor making her laugh.

“That is going to be quite the adventure.”, you can’t help but whisper and Bradley has a bright smile.

“We are having twins! Are they identical?”, his excitement is only bigger now, and you can’t help the utter love that you feel for this man.

“They are identical.”, the both of you smile widely at each other and you start to feel emotional at the thought.

Your doctor starts telling you what you need to take and do and after a few minutes she lets you get your clothes back on. Bradley still seems stuck on the fact that you are having twins.

You leave the doctor’s office with a smiling Bradley and as you leave the waiting room you hear Bradley say.

“We are having twins!”, the people must look at him like he is crazy, but another man screams congratulations and Bradley couldn’t be happier.

Your child's been kicking me all day." "Oh, so now it's my child? - Slider

As much as you loved feeling your baby move and feeling him kick, it was starting to get on your nerves as it was three in the morning and your son didn’t seem to want to sleep. Your husband was fast asleep after a long day of training while you were huffing looking at your bump willing your baby to finally settle down and let you sleep.

After a minute you didn’t feel anything anymore and you happily thought that your son was finally done but just as you got settled down you felt a strong kick. Goddamnit that kid really was his father’s child.

It had started this morning when Slider left for work and somehow your little guy had decided that he was doing some sort of sport in there as he constantly moved and kicked often. Now you love to feel him move and it always made your heart flutter at the sight of his little feet kicking but now it was starting to annoy you.

You feel Slider’s arm bringing you closer and you sigh softly at the touch before another kick was felt and you grumbled, waking up your husband. He looked confused for a moment at the fact that he was awake and looked at you with sleepy eyes and his bed hair.

“Everything alright? You have a craving?”, he quickly asks, and you feel your annoyance melt at the sight of his worried eyes, but a sudden kick makes you think back to why you were annoyed.

“Your child’s been kicking me all day”. You say grumbling and Slider can’t help chuckling, but he stops at your raised eyebrows.

“Oh, so now it’s my child.”, he says with a teasing smile, and you roll your eyes.

“This can only be a Kerner trait, I’m telling you.”, your husband laughs and kisses you lovingly before caressing your bump lovingly.

“I think he got it from his mother.”, you snort and enjoy having Slider caress your bump and side making you relax more.

“That is a lie.”, he nods seriously but a smile appears, and you let out a laugh quickly followed by your husband.

It’s only a few moments later that you realize that you haven’t felt a kick in a while, you look down at your bump while Slider kisses your shoulder and neck softly while caressing your leg.

“I know what you are doing there.”, you can feel his smirk on your skin, and he drops a few more kisses before looking at you with his most innocent smile.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”, after raising your eyebrows you see him give in and he kisses you passionately making butterflies erupt in your stomach.

“He seems to have settled down.”, you whisper and Slider smiles softly at you before looking at your bump.

“Looks like it.”, you smile at each other for a few seconds before you start yawning and Slider laughs quietly.

“Common lets sleep.”, you settle in Slider’s arms and finally fall asleep as you settle in bed with your husband holding you.

I'm starting to feel like this baby will have a lot of aunts and uncles. - Hangman

Jake wanted to tell the Dagger squad that you were pregnant in a spectacular way, because ‘we aren’t going to do it like everyone’ he said.

So now you found yourself waiting for your husband as he finished his last hop of the day and you waited for him to arrive. You had gone to Penny to ask for help on revealing your pregnancy and after a long hug and a lot of congratulations you started planning your reveal.

You had found labels that you could personalize, and Penny just had to put them on a beer bottle and give them to the Dagger Squad, for Bob it would be on a soda bottle. Penny had assured you that it wasn’t an issue as she loved the idea and quickly hid the labels.

Jake finally arrives with a bright smile and kisses you like a starving man making the other whistle at the two of you.

“We know she is your wife Hangman, no need to make a show of it every time.”, Rooster yells and Jake ignores him as you laugh.

“Ready for the surprise?”, he is smirking, and a mischievous grin can be seen in his green eyes.

“I was born ready.”, the both of you smirk at each other before leaving towards the Hard Deck and joining the others around the pool table. Maverick and Ice have joined them, and they are all chattering.

“Penny told us that she would bring us some new beers she bought.”, Fanboy tells them with a smile, and you have to hide you smile at the thought of what they were going to get.

Penny arrives and you can see that she is trying not to spoil the surprise as she smiles widely.

“There you go, do tell me what you think about it.”, the aviators quickly take a beer and some of them take a sip before Phoenix lets out a surprised scream.

“You are pregnant?!”, she seems shocked, and you laugh at her reaction while the rest looks at her puzzled.

“Baby Hangman coming soon in the air.”, she reads out loud and everyone looks at their label, a look of understanding passing through.

“Holy shit.”, you hear most of them whisper and you feel Jake’s arm around your waist.

Phoenix is the first to congratulate you and she takes you into a bear hug and tells Jake that he better be on his best behavior before hugging him too. The rest of the group follows with hugs and Coyote glares at Jake before hugging him hard.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me before the others.”, Jake smiles widely and pats Coyote on the shoulder.

“Where would the fun be in that.”, Coyote rolls his eyes but brings you into a hug congratulating you. Rooster wishes you a lot of courage and patience, managing to avoid Jake’s napkin that is thrown at him and everyone laughs.

The whole group is talking about the baby, and you quickly realize something.

“I'm starting to feel like this baby will have a lot of aunts and uncles.”, Jake laughs at that and brings you closer.

“That baby is going to have so many uncles and aunts it’s going to be spoiled rotten.”, you laugh and settle into Jake’s embrace enjoying the sight of your friends arguing about who would be godfather and godmother.

#top gun imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun x reader #top gun movie #bob floyd fanfiction #bob floyd x reader #maverick x y/n #pete mitchell fanfiction #goose x reader #iceman x reader #tom kazansky x reader #jake hangman x reader #hangman x y/n #rooster fanfiction #rooster x y/n #slider #slider x reader

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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

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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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topgrns · 3 months

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Moon

Tom “iceman” Kazansky, Mike “viper” metcalf, Bradley “rooster” Bradshaw, Natasha “phoenix” Trace, Javy “coyote” Machado, Ron “slider” Kerner

Sun

Nick “goose” Bradshaw, Pete “maverick” Mitchell, Jake “hangman” Seresin, Robert “Bob” Floyd, Rueben “payback” Fitch

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valmare · 7 months

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Gym Himbo • Ron Slider Kerner x Reader

Haven't written anything I've felt compelled to post for *awhile* so here's some Slider shit that I thought was fun. Dedicating this to @callsignthirsty, who had absolutely no business dragging me onto the Slider train like she has. but i refuse to get off, so, here we are. i may or may not need a part 2, but that's yet to be decided.

Warnings: minor swears, innuendos, Slider being a complete and utter sex god that he is

Pairing: Ron 'Slider' Kerner x reader

Gym Himbo

The gym is all but bursting by the time you manage to wedge your shitty little Camry in between two massive pickups. Which, in all honesty, is to be expected. It’s Friday, after 5–half the city is here. To cram in a workout before the long weekend, no doubt. Intentions similar, you feel more than a little dwarfed by the pickups at either side of your car as you pop the door handle and swing out of the driver’s seat.

Bending to grab your bag through the backseat open window, whispered voices give you pause and you glance out the rear window to spot the group of girls, arm in, giggling in their matching Adidas. Strolling towards the gym, looking every bit of the jazzercise goers you assume they are. Rolling your eyes you shoulder your bag, watching them stroll towards the gym with the flock of other after-5ers. Your grip tightens on your bag as you spin your keys around your finger.

You’ll be lucky if you get any machine time—Fridays bring in the muscle heads and the bodybuilders. And as much as you despise cardio, you could use to do a quick 45 minutes on a treadmill. Which is fine, it’s probably as it should be. Wait for the meatheads and himbos to clear out before getting in the real work. A solid plan.

Eyes flitting over cars in the parking lot, you try not to look for her Lexus. Gina had told you she wouldn’t be meeting you today, which still hasn’t quite resonated in your head yet. As your best friend and self-proclaimed emotional support gym partner, you can’t remember a time G hasn’t met you here. You’ve been spotting each other for the year you’ve been coming to this gym. Working out together keeps the aforementioned meatheads at bay–after all, if you don’t need a spotter, what other opening line is there?–and is the perfect catch-up for the gossip going on between your respective offices.

Three times a week, like clockwork, Gina parks towards the entrance—you park in the back. Together you meet halfway for the long walk to the gym, giggling and chatting much like the Adidas girls pulling open the heavy gym doors ahead of you as you jog to catch the door. Managing a muted “Thanks,” to the swinging ponytail in front of you, you slip towards the locker room quietly, secure a locker, and change out your street shoes for your gym Reebok’s.

Trying not to be disappointed that Gina is probably well into outfit number three, prepping for her date with “AutoZone Rob,” you’re still more than a little pissed she hadn’t asked you to come over. Twisted your arm to skip your workout and help her pick outfits and pile quantifiable tonnes of AquaNet into her Farrah-perfect hair. Biting the inside of your cheek as you aggressively tighten the knot in your laces, your foot drops off the bench with a bit more attitude than the floor deserves. Flipping your hair forward, you manage it into a high tail before snatching your water bottle and towel from your lockers.

Banging the door closed with a swat of your hand, a deep breath fills and exits your chest as you march out to the gym floor in search of a treadmill. Most of the usual walkers have abandoned their machines in favor of the jazzercise class, women funneling towards the separate room at nearly the speed of light. And you can hardly blame them. Kenny, the new hire who leads the class, has an ass that does not stop—you’d go if Gina was here to detract from your purely awful ability to dance.

Snagging a machine in the corner, you set your workout and hop onto the machine lithly, like you’ve done it a million times. You have, to some extent. Settling into the immediate burn in the back of your calves, your eyes skirt over the other half of the room–the weights equipment and free weights. Buzzing like a hive with men brushing into one another. Women have all but abandoned the space between the towering giants of muscle and testosterone, mostly for Kenny and his class. From here you’re nearly blinded by the glistening sweat and ripple of muscle, which tightens a sharp, glorious little knot in the depth of your gut.

Thank God you have opted for the treadmill for close to an hour. Most of these guys should clear out by the time you’re done, allowing you access to whatever machine you want. Not that the idea of smooshing yourself in between himbos cock-deep in deadlifts and dumbbells doesn't have an appeal. Most, if not all of them would make room for you. After all, a babe that can leg press 640 does turn heads.

But being a spectacle isn’t your style—especially without Gina here to ward off the unwanted come-ons and approaches. And you prefer to ogle at a distance. Missing Gina’s intensity and her no-funny-business attitude, which matches yours nearly to the point of Siamese twinning, you focus your attention on stretching out your shoulders while the treadmill adjusts to a sharper, more intense, incline.

Your view from the treadmill is stellar—and split between Designing Women on the small TV the front desk clerk is glued to for all of a few seconds as the absolutely ripped god currently deadlifting in the corner grabs your attention. Whiplash nearly snaps your neck as your gaze rips from the television to his direction. It takes herculean willpower to keep your jaw wired shut, but it only takes a few seconds before the muscle in your jaw ticks in absolute raw jealousy.

From here, you estimate he’s right 450 or so—but people are passing to and fro in front of him, so it’s a guess at best. It wrinkles your brow for all of a few seconds. Because a himbo of his size and physique suggests far more weight than what you’re supposing, unless he’s simply warming up. Trying not to think too hard about it, he’s nearly impossible to miss—all six foot something of him is a head or so taller than everyone else in the free weights corner of the gym. That ripped-to-next-to-nothing-at-all t-shirt does little more than flash a “Look at me!” neon sign to his person. He nearly sparkles under the harsh fluorescent light. Sweat glistens in a fine, delicious sheen over the rippled muscle of his back. Definitions all but on display.

As fine as he appears, you cannot help but seethe at little at the effortless lift and drop. Your fingers practically burn with the itch to lift heavy and drop. It swirls in an excited buzz through your core. Familiar memories of what it feels like kickstarts the crave for adrenaline in the back of your head, which slowly drips down your spine like molten lava. Wanting little more than to hop off the treadmill and actually start your workout, you resign yourself to finish the program—and Designing Women.

It isn’t polite to stare. But with a body–and such an intention outfit—you doubt he’d mind. Catch yourself eyeballing the Grecian god of a man a few times over the next forty minutes, you’re more focused on the weight he’s adding and changing to the bar than you are the ebb and flow of muscle in his arms. Brain on a continuous loop of How? HOW?! you don’t even notice the ending of Designing Women, or the fact that he’s caught you looking at least twice, now.

One by the one, men begin to pilfer out of the gym. Concluding their workouts, nodding goodbye to familiar faces and “buddies” as they filter to the locker rooms and out the door for the long weekend. What was formerly Israelites at the mouth of the Red Sea has become little more than a handful of the dedicated in the free weights area, giving you far more confidence than when you’d first arrived. There’s no better time than now to throw yourself into the mix.

Calves burning, you brush at the hair clinging to your damp skin and take a pull of lukewarm water from your bottle. Machine sounding off, you kill the program and move to wipe down the controls. Tossing the rag back beside the sanitizer bottle, you march off in search of your first victim—a personal favorite, it’s your pride and joy. Gina would be grinning if she were here, the leg press is definitely the one machine you have absolutely no trouble destroying.

You halfway ignore the stares that track you, possessively dropping your bottle to the seat. Position claimed, you waste no time adjusting the press to your standard measurements—but, the weight is off. Because of course it is, you press more than anyone would give your short stack frame for. Not reveling in preening is taking all the willpower you possess, because more than one guy has paused to consider the amount of weight you’re loading onto this machine.

Calculating your startup weight takes all of a few seconds, it’s familiar. Almost going through the motions. Once you’re satisfied with your weights, you towel off the sweat pearling over your upper lip and at the back of your neck, fingers stretching as you hype yourself up. Guns n’ Roses blaring from the overhead is far too good to ignore. Boping to the familiar tune, you swing into the seat, settle yourself there, and get into position.

You’re far too enthralled. Consumed with the rush this is going to finally give you, you absolutely don’t notice the tower of a man who’s come up behind you on the press, until his frame blocks the harsh lights overhead and throws a long down over you. Blinking, you peer up and over your shoulder. To the thick hand and absolutely tree-like arm that’s casually hanging over the back of your seat. Your eyes linger for all of a few seconds.

“Need a spot?”

At base level it is a simple question, but it swirls in between the soft tones of his bravado voice. Knocks you for a loop for all of a heartbeat. Your eyes skate up his arm to find his–they’re nearly glittering with confidence, ego nearly trackable it’s manifested so plainly in the set of his shoulders. It takes 2.5 seconds for you to realize it’s him.

The Himbo. The god you’d been ogling over from the treadmill. Between murdering yourself with cardio and attempts to enjoy Designing Women. All moisture suddenly vacates the back of your throat, but not in the way you’d expect—Why is he over here?

Question looping through your brain, you are torn between being insulted that he’d assume you couldn’t handle startup weight and being flattered that he cares enough to actually ask. Dropping a foot off the plate, you sit forward a little and angle to face him. Sends him back half a step. His arm is still far too casually draped over the back of your seat, and you're biting the inside of your cheek hard enough to almost draw blood trying to discern how to respond to the insinuation.

Insult gives way to injury, and you level a cool, half-mast look of indifference at him. A smirk lifts the corner of your mouth. It’s far too easy to take in all of his hulking self, but you show great restraint. Too much restraint; Gina would be livid.

You try to mask a chuckle, but it doesn’t work nearly as well as you’d like it to. “This is my startup weight,” your shoulder shifts a little more flirtatiously than you’d like. But you’re rolling with it. “But thanks.” Heat somersaults in your gut at the absolute audacity of your tone as you bend to retrieve your water, take a pull. Your Gotcha! brow is smug. Why you’re flirting you don’t really know, you’ve never noticed him before. But God, he is gorgeous—maybe out of your league.

Scratch that. You’re out of his league, pressing 650 and not even batting a frickin’ eyelash. He maybe able to deadlift three of you, but you most definitely can leg press at least three of him. Gina’s ever present best-friend validation blares like a loudspeaker in the back of your brain not to shortchange yourself. Confidence is the best thing a girl can wear, especially in the gym—even if you’re sporting stirrup pants and a top that leaves very little to the active imagination.

A growing smile ticks up the corner of his lips, you don’t miss the second this registers on his face—his brows jump nearly into his hairline. Line of his jaw twitches with the effort, presumably, not to drop his mouth open. You’re preening at the dumbstruck look on his face as his eyes skate to double check the weight in a full Wait, is she actually serious? moment. Wheels in his brain chug as he calculates the weight, then cuts a quick look back to you from the corner of his eye.

The smile is slow, understanding. Quicksilver and very nearly entertained. Lightbulbs all but go off over his head like he’s something out of Saturday morning Looney Tunes as he chuckles, drops his gaze to consider his feet and the absolutely beat high tops he’s sporting. His eyes look up to you in what is very nearly an ovary-leveling puppy dog look, and you bristle to an attention at what it does to your insides.

Full silence between the two of you for longer than necessary when it hits that he isn’t about to make the first move recovery move. It’s up to you then. The little tip of your lips matches the slight cock of your head. Swinging fully off the plate, you plant your feet on the floor and rest your elbows on your thighs. You don’t miss that he’s watching like a hawk, tracking movement like you’re nothing short of prey. Might as well be a damn target-locked missile.

“Was there something else?” Your hands clap to your knees and you pop up from the seat, ponytail swinging behind you like something out of Sports Illustrated.

Arm dropping off the back of your seat, he blinks—easy brown eyes skip over you like he’s mapping terrain, and you can’t help the burst of pride that explodes like sparklers down the length of your spine. In a deliberate show, you move to check your weights again, then turn to rest an arm over one of the plates. Hand firmly planted on your hip.

It takes all the willpower you possess not to chuckle when he puts his hands up, smiles, and backs off a few steps.

“Easy there, honey—just trying to do you a solid.” Your smile is ineffable. Oh, I bet you are, “Didn’t mean anything by it, scout’s honor.” The fingers-over-heart is endearing. Brow lifts in a masquerade of conceit, but the chase is far from over—himbo is just stepping up to bat. You can see it in the glint of his eye; light that backstrokes in dark pools of knowing, guessing. Chasing.

The faintest smile parts his lips enough to make out strong white teeth. Watching his tongue skate over them, your finger twitches slightly against the cool steel of the plate. It feels good on your burning skin, skin that’s itching suddenly under his focus. Attention. The way his head tips a little, his eyes skate quickly from the cut of your hip back to your eyes—he knows this is the wrong foot to get off on. Even if this approach has worked with other girls before. But, tough for him—you aren’t other girls. Between you and Gina in this gym, you make up a category all to yourselves. Ground that you’re willing to defend.

But good sweet God in heaven, he is huge. His shoulders remind you extravagantly of old fashioned brick walls, the kind that Ivy creeps up slowly over time as it dissects height, weight, breadth. Hands the size of saucers. They’re nothing short of hands that have taken a hundred women apart slowly and enjoy stitching them back together enough to ruin all over, probably. Close cropped hair with just enough curl to pique your interest, he’s a little unshaven. By the stretch of shadows across the pavement of parking lots and goodbye, he’ll have a nice five o’clock show of scruff on his face.

Checking yourself appreciating the thick vein that chases up his arm, your eyes flick back to his. Can’t resist the little bat of your lashes. Gently biting the corner of your bottom lip, quite visibly, you shift a little on your feet. He flirts with his eyes—his I saw that stabs painfully between the ribs of your innocent, Yeah? so much that you fear your resolve will bleed out to the floor beneath your feet.

His smile grows, arms crossing over his chest as he settles on his feet, head kicking back just a bit. It’s the macho shift of power, he’s almost looking down his nose. Waits for you to just plop into the palm of his hand and scarf down the attention like the pussy-starved cock he is.

Well, that’s enough of that. He’s yummy, sure, but you don’t eat of open palms so easily. Nodding, you click your tongue off the wall of your cheek with a wet pop, and push off the machine easily. You’re about to slip back into the seat when his posture changes. Like a startled cat, his eyes frantically track your movements. His panic is tangible—he knows. Window closed, next.

He clears his throat a little and nods to the plates. Scrambling. The boy thing is scrambling not to lose this battle of the sexes, and it is quite fun to watch. He moves just so beneath the overhead flourescents. Catch of glistening sweat beneath the light is unmissable and punches you harder in the pit of your uterus than you first thought possible.

“So,” his hand skates to rub the back of his neck. It isn’t sheepish, nothing about this goliath of a male specimen is sheepish. He’s about as subtle as a sledgehammer. He gestures to the weight, “That a rep weight for you, or—?”

Smile. You can’t help but smile. He’s trying, you’ll give him that. Whether it’s a lack of thick skin from being unused to rejection, or blatantly stupidity you’re not sure–but he’s still here. Except now, the mouse has become the cat; you’re more the predator than the prey in this scenario. Just a little farther and you’ve got the fly reeling in your web, ready for the kill.

Watching the weight pass through his eyes, his eyes flick down to consider your legs. Which are very much on display in stirrup pants and leg warmers you’d just snagged from Nordstroms. Muscle in his jaw ticks. which paints a lopsided smile on your face. Shifting onto the seat, you position your legs, raise a brow. Color erupts on his face in what’s either an embarrassed, or impressed, flush.

You chuckle. “Kinda already asked me that, didn’t you?” The absolutely pummeled look on his face leaves him blinking. Speechless. You can’t help but giggle at the drumstruck hanging out on his face like a neon sign. It’s painfully obvious he didn’t expect any sort of pushback to whatever advance he’d plucked up the balls for. “But to answer the question, yeah—I’ll rep this for a bit.”

His rapid blinking hasn’t improved. Amusing. It’s always amusing, the audacity of these men. Poor thing. He hasn’t gotten the hint—or if he has, he’s persistent. This isn’t the first time a meathead at the gym has tried to pick you, or Gina, up. What you wouldn’t give for a dollar every time it’s happened. Biting the inside of your cheek, you kind of smile at him a little dorkishly. Wait for him to say something. To recover what a flaming trainwreck this entire conversation has become for his ego.

“Hey, Slider—you almost finished? We’ve got muster in half an hour, let’s move.”

The speed at which his head whips to acknowledge whoever has called across the gym is alarming. Eyes widening at what you can only assume is a nickname, you track his attention to find the blonde standing, hand on the latch of the door. Like an impatient mother calling after a child. Eyes skate between “Slider,” apparently, and the man at the door.

Your brow raises surprisingly at the absolute gall this man has to wear aviators actually inside a building, but given the stance and the way his jaw works at a piece of gum just so, you realize he really doesn’t appear the type to mind. Or even care. Any second now blondie is going to start tapping his foot, and your bottom lip rolls inward beneath your top teeth as Slider turns back to consider you with a crooked quicksilver gleam, the flush on his cheeks deepening a little. Replaying the man’s callout in your brain, your brow lifts.

“Muster, huh. Military?” San Diego is crawling with Navy boys. Mouth open to respond, you beat him to the punch. “Ah. Navy. Got it, “ peeking around his goliath frame, you smile, tip your chin up, and wiggle your fingers at the blonde standing in the entry, “your friend seems awfully ready to get back at it.” When he waves back, you wink across the room at him. Slider’s expression nearly hits to the floor, right off his face. “He’s cute.”

He scoffs. “Cute?” His face takes on an expression that is not far removed from baffled. His strangle chuckled matches the lifted brows of surprise, “I’ve heard the Iceman called many things, and ‘cute’ is on the very bottom of that particular shitlist.” Jealousy all but paints his face emerald as you smile, “But honestly, he’s not your type. Like at all.”

Disbelief all but seals up your throat like an Indiana Jones temple, and you splutter on the pull of water you manage from your bottle. Amused, this asshole of a man has the audacity to chuckle at you as you recover, brows in your hairline as you blink rapid fire at him. Galled at the very insinuation he has an inkling of an idea about anything regarding you, you fall back against the seat a little rough. Flabbergasted is too kind a word.

“And how in the hell is it you think you know anything about my type?” Tone loaded and patronizing, the smirk on his face nearly jumps up and screams Ha! right in your face. You think briefly about smacking it off his face, but decide against you. You like this gym, don’t really want to get kicked out. Today, anyway. Maybe another time, preferable with Gina around to post bail.

Popping into a squat beside your seat, your eyes nearly stretch out of your head at the absolutely perfect view of his bicep that’s just hanging out in your line of sight as he smiles, cool as a cucumber, on his feet. Balancing like fucking Hercules on the ball of his feet. Slightly alarmed by the sudden bolt of heat that rushes down your spine, your head is suddenly nothing but pulsating blood between your ears and swimming with the sight of little droplets of sweat dripping from a loose curl over his forehead. He smells incredible—like sweat. Heat. Sex.

Tongue skating out to coat his bottom lip, his eyes all but drag down the cut of your shirt before they slowly traverse their way back up the column of your throat. Linger on your mouth. And before you know it, your staring dead in the face of the little gold rim in his eyes, feeling disarmed and bothered and warm in the cradle of your pelvis.

His turn to click his tongue off the wall of his cheek. It makes a curtailing tsk, disarming you more than you should probably allow. “Call it a sixth sense,” he winks, lifting a hand to gesture between the two of you. “We should go out sometime.”

Scoff rocketing up the back of your throat before you can even think about it, you're shaking your head in disbelief as your smile grows a little broader. “Oh, we should, should we?”

Lightyears separate you and any chance of going out with this himbo that could possibly ever exist—not because you don’t want to. But because the likelihood of seeing him again is probably close to one in a million. Not that you want to see him. You don’t. He’s an egotistical cocksucker. Probably.

His brows lift in a telling little wag. “Yeah, I think so. Don’t you?”

Lips parting to reply, the sharp, “Slider!” that cuts across the room matches the obvious huff of impatience from the man you’ve come to understand as the Iceman. Pushing off the door, he’s beginning to stalk across the floor to the free weights area. Impatience, such impatience. Heartbeat kicked up behind your ribs, Slider is waiting for your answer. Lifted brow and all.

Without entering the area, the Iceman lifts his shades into his hair, and with a firm tip of his head, gestures towards the door. “Sli. Let’s move.” He all but snaps his finger and you snort a little—they remind you of an old married couple. Probably not all that far removed, actually, if you know anything about the Navy and its boys. And you don’t, not really. Yet.

Eyes skirting back to Slider, you sigh a little chuckle and lift a flirty shoulder. “I think you’d better go,” leaning forward, you screw up your lips in a twisted little smile and squint at him, nodding in the direction of his tagalong. “Better not keep daddy waiting, Slider.”

And with that his lips form a little impressed “O,” his chuckle all but a little defeated in that macho way guys always manage. Slowly standing, the look behind his eyes is wolfish. Impressed even. Gina would be fucking applauding if she was here, watching you run circles with this Hercules and all the ego his wafting into the atmosphere. But the idea of seeing him again doesn’t exactly not have appeal, and you’re feeling flirty. Confident in a way you haven’t in weeks.

“Tell you what. I’ve been known to visit my favorite little haunt in the strip mall across town after a, long ass workout,” situating back in the seat, you position your feet on the plate to begin your warmup, and smile at him as he backsteps away from the machine with a little bounce in his step, “If you happen to run into me, well—I’m not one to turn friends away from an empty table.”

“Sounds like a deal,” his smile is all but megawatt, “I’ll see ya around.”

“Maybe you will.”

Well into the burn of your startup weight by the time you spot Slider and his friend slip from the locker room to the front door, it takes little to no effort at all to smile at the pair as Slider checks over his shoulder for one last look. Impressed with himself, no doubt. You suppose there’ll a very good chance you’ll see him tomorrow when you and Gina come back for her favorite mid-week pilates meet.

And somehow, you’re okay with that.

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

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dragon-kazansky · 1 year

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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jupitercomet · 1 year

Text

“Thinking of You” Flowers

summary - Slider gets you flowers.

warnings - language

this blog is 18+, minors please do not interact

word count - 804

follow the adventures of Slider and Cherry in Cherry Bomb!

Slider didn’t consider himself to be a particularly soft guy.

He was a brawler by nature, tall and intimidating with a smirk that screamed trouble. On and off the ice, he wasn’t afraid to get physical and together he and Goose could make a grown man cry with their chirps. Slider was all muscle and fight, and he didn’t care to change.

But then you brought him flowers.

You came to one of his games and you brought him flowers. And when one of the hyacinths broke off from a weaker stem, you tucked it behind his ear with a shy smile.

Slider didn’t consider himself to be a particularly soft guy, but when it came to you none of that mattered.

“Thank you, cherry,” he looks down at the arranged flowers, wrapped in lilac tissue paper and tied with twine. “They’re real pretty.”

You light up. “I thought so too! I tried to pick out ones you’d like.”

And so every home game after, without fail, Slider left the stadium with a bouquet of hyacinths. You had told him once that you read somewhere that hyacinths had something to do with sports, because of course you thought flower meanings were important—“There’s some gladiolus in there too, for victory… like the gladiators. I thought that was kind of fun.”—and Slider could only smile.

“You seem to know a lot about flower, cherry,” he jokes. “Should I be jealous?”

You cock your head. “What do you mean?”

“Well, don’t you get them a lot?”

“Oh, um,” you look down and bite your lip. Slider furrows his brows. “I’ve never gotten flowers before.”

And that’s when the “thinking of you” flowers started. Sometimes you woke up to them, Slider would drop them off after morning practice and then head to class. Sometimes they’d be waiting for you in the car when he picked you up. Sometimes they would have a specific meaning, like if you passed an exam you studied a lot for, but mostly Slider got them just because. The ladies at the flower shop knew him by name, greeting him brightly whenever he stopped by.

“Was wondering when you’d come back.”

Slider chuckles good-naturedly, shoving his hands in his pockets as he steps inside the flower shop. “Yeah, my professor is sick so I thought I’d stop by.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” Cynthia—the owner of the flower shop—gets up, brushing her hands on her smock. “What flower will it be today? Roses? Peonies?”

Slider looks around the shop, pretending to think. It’s all for show though, he’s mildly embarrassed to admit he’d been googling flower meaning in his truck. “Um, honeysuckle.”

“Oh, everlasting love and pure happiness? She’s a lucky girl,” Cynthia teases.

“I think I’m the lucky one, ma’am.”

Cynthia smacks his arm lightly as she heads back to start arranging. “What did I tell you about calling me that? You’re making me feel old!”

“Sorry,” Slider laughs.

Slider was fond of his relationship with Cynthia. They didn’t really start talking, though, until Slider purchased his eighth bouquet in the same amount of weeks. Cynthia demanded to know what he was doing with them, saying he had no business leading that many girls on at once and that he should be ashamed of himself. Slider had never been more terrified in his life, bashfully explaining that all the flowers were for one girl. After that, Cynthia started giving him a discount.

“Alright,” Cynthia returns to the front of the store with a freshly made bouquet. “These look good to you?”

Slider smiles, reaching for his wallet. “Perfect.”

Your class is ending soon, so Slider rushes through the transaction, blushing when Cynthia cheekily says that she’ll see him tomorrow. He sits the bouquet on the passenger seat carefully before driving back to campus, a small smile on his face.

By the time he finds a parking space and gets to the building where your class is held, you’ve already been let out and are listening to Goose go on about some story as you walk out of the classroom together. You light up when you see Slider, waving sweetly, and you and Goose make your way over to him.

Goose looks down at the flowers. “Those for me? You shouldn’t have.”

“No, fuck face.” Slider says flatly, before softening and dropping a kiss to the top of your head. “Hi, cherry.”

“Hi, Sli.” You fit into your usual spot under his arm, waving goodbye to Goose who’s decided to give Slider a break—thankfully. You look at the flowers with wonder, a small smile on your face as you lean to sniff them. “What’s this for?”

Slider presses another kiss to your head, using his arm around your shoulders to start shepherding you towards his truck. “Was just thinkin’ of you.”

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#ron kerner imagine #ron kerner imagines #ron kerner x reader #ron kerner fluff #ron kerner au #slider imagine #slider imagines #slider x reader #slider fluff #slider au #top gun imagines #steve rogers x reader #cherry bomb #buggy's got a pen

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ddejavvu · 1 year

Text

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

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i-wear-wet-socks313 · 1 year

Text

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

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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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rose-pearls · 6 months

Text

Sparks Fly - Part 2

It took some time but here is the second part to the story Sparks Fly! (Requests are open!)

Story Taglist: @saturnsbabe69,

Top Gun Taglist: @bisexual-watermelons (open)

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

The shower was running as you let out a sigh, closing your eyes and gripping the counter tightly.

Slider had been there for the past hour, and you didn’t know what to do, Goose had died, and you didn’t know how to feel at the thought of that. The man had always been an absolute sweetheart, making you feel comfortable from the moment you met him, his honking laughter always making you laugh even louder.

Carole.

You don’t know how the woman is doing, but it must be hard with Bradley also holding onto her. The phone rings for a moment and you wonder for a moment if you are doing the right thing by calling her, she probably has other things to do.

“Bradshaw’s residence?”, her voice is trembling, you wouldn’t hear it if you didn’t know about what happened, but you can hear it.

“It’s me.”, you whisper in the phone, and you hear Carole take a deep breath on the other side of the phone.

"I'm so sorry Carole, if there is anything I can do please tell me.”, you whisper in the phone and for a long moment you don’t hear anything until a sob break through the receiver.

“I don’t know what I’m doing. I just came back from the morgue to confirm it was him.”, she says, sobs leaving her mouth and you feel sick at the thought, tears escaping and rolling down your cheeks.

“I’m so sorry that you had to do that. Do you want me to come over? I can take Bradley so that you have a moment to yourself.”, you tell her, trying to keep your breathing even and you hear her taking a shuddering breath on the other side of the line.

“I don’t want to impose anything on you.”, she tries to say but you shake your head in disagreement.

“Nonsense Carole, it isn’t a problem at all. Let me help you with whatever you need, at least to take some things of your shoulders.”, there is a moment of silence before she answers.

“If it’s not an issue, can he spend the night with you? My parents won’t be down here until the weekend, and I need to do a lot of things with Nick-”, she can’t say the words and you don’t blame her.

“Of course not, I’ll come and pick him up in in an hour, alright?”, you ask her, wondering if she will be able to hold until then to stay strong for Bradley.

“That��s perfect, that way I can pack him a bag for the night.”, she says softly, and you realize that you had been gripping hard on the phone.

“You can give him clothes for a few more days to be sure if you want.”, you tell her, and she whispers a soft agreement.

“I’ll see you in an hour, if you need anything until then don’t hesitate.”, you tell her.

“I will. Thank you, I don’t know what I would’ve done.”, she whispers, and you shake your head at her words.

“You don’t need to thank me Carole, I’m here when you need me.”, she whispers a soft thank you before the line turns dead and you try to breathe again.

“Everything alright?”, you hear behind you, and you jump slightly at the voice turning around to find Slider there looking awkward, right you had forgotten he was there.

“Everything is fine.”, you say after clearing your throat and putting the phone back.

“I’m going to pick up Bradley and keep him for the night, maybe for a day or two. That way Carole can do what she needs to do.”, you tell him, not sure why you feel like you need to explain yourself.

“That’s kind of you.”, he says, a soft smile adorning his lips.

“It’s normal, she is my friend, and she needs help.”, you tell him simply before moving towards your room to take new sheets out and some plushies you still had for Bradley.

“What about your parents?”, he asks you a moment after and you quickly look at him over your shoulder before making the bed.

“My mother just told me that my father needed to stay on base tonight, and she needs to go and see my aunt so she will be back later tonight. They will understand why he is here.”, you say simply, thinking of how you were going to explain to your parents how you knew the little Bradshaw.

“You can always stay at my base apartment. Ice is staying with Maverick to make sure he is alright.”, there is a long silence following his words and you feel your grip tightening around the sheets.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea Slider.”, you say, and you can feel the tension in the room.

“Can we talk, please?”, he whispers, and you let out a sigh, looking at the blue sheets in front of you before you feel a hand on your arm.

“Please.”, he whispers, and you turn around to look at the pleading WSO.

“What do you want to talk about Ron? We said everything there was to say the last time we saw each other.”, you whisper, and he shakes his head in disagreement.

“I didn’t and I need you to listen to me, please.”, he tells you and you try not to let yourself grow to mush at the touch of his hands on your arms.

“Fine but after I get Bradley, he is the priority.”, you tell him, and he nods quickly.

“Take him to my apartment, if you want, I’ll sleep somewhere else, but you’ll be more comfortable.”, he whispers and you look around the room, wondering how you could fit the five-year-old here, but you knew he wouldn’t have a lot of space.

“Alright, but you’re sleeping on the couch, I don’t care how small it is.”, you tell him, trying to look threatening but judging by the barely hidden smile from Ron, you know it isn’t convincing.

“Of course, sweetheart.”, he tells you with a smirk while you put some of your stuff in an overnight bag with some plushies for Bradley.

“Don’t call me sweetheart Kerner.”, you tell him before leaving the door and going towards your car, Ron following you.

“You are so sexy when you get fiery like that.”, he says with a smirk, and you feel a deep blush on your cheeks at the words.

“Shut up Kerner or I’m leaving you here.”, the man doesn’t say anything more, but he still keeps that shit eating grin on his lips.

Bradley is quiet, far too quiet for a five-year-old.

He is looking around the room, a tight grip on his little goose.

“Do you want to eat something Bradley?”, you ask him softly while sitting down next to him and he looks at you with big brown eyes.

“Why am I here?”, he asks, and you feel lost at how to explain everything to a kid that just lost his dad.

“Is it because of my dad?”, he asks so quietly you barely hear it, but you do and get closer to him.

“It is, your mom needs to do some grown up things and she didn’t want to bore you.”, you tell him softly and he looks sadly at his goose plushie.

“I miss my dad.”, he says quietly, and you feel tears in your eyes that you manage to blink away.

“That’s completely normal, but he will always be here with you.”, you tell him, and he looks back at you.

“Really?”, you nod slowly before brushing a hand on his chest right where his heart is.

“Right here and in the sky, looking over you.”, he seems unsure, but you keep smiling reassuringly.

“I think I need a hug.”, he whispers, and you nod in agreement.

“I think I need one too.”, you tell him, and a small smile appears on his lips before you open your arms and the boy immediately launches himself at you, holding you tightly.

You wrap your arms around him and hold him close, brushing your fingers through his hair and if after a moment you feel tears through your shirt you don’t say anything and just hold him as tight as you can while rubbing his back.

Ron looks worried when he comes to check in, but you smile sadly at him and before you can say anything he kisses your forehead softly and does the same thing to Bradley. The little boy has fallen asleep in your arms and as you try to put him into the bed, he holds on to you.

“Don’t leave me.”, he whispers, his eyes barely open but you can hear the fear in his voice.

“I’m not leaving you, I’m right here.”, you whisper before going into the bed with him, Bradley immediately grips your shirt, and you hold him in your arms.

Once the boy has fallen asleep you feel tears sliding down your cheeks, there is Ron’s familiar cologne on the sheets, and you feel like you are suffocating from everything you are feeling. When you finally manage to fall asleep you don’t realize Slider comes in to make sure you are alright, a sad smile on his lips as he sees the tear tracks on your cheeks.

“You want to go to the park Brad?”, Ron asks, and you look at him with raised eyebrows, but he ignores you, focusing his attention on the little boy in front of him.

“Can we play football?”, Bradley seems excited at the idea and Ron quickly nods in agreement.

“We sure can buddy but only if the lady here can hold herself in football.”, he says with a teasing smile and Bradley tries to hide his laughter as you look at them unimpressed.

“Please I will beat your ass Kerner.”, Bradley cheers in agreement before sprinting out of his chair towards his shoes and ten minutes later you find yourself at the park throwing a football in the air.

Bradley is yelling form the start and you can’t help but start yelling too when Ron tries to steal the ball from you.

“That is cheating Kerner!”, the rest is a blur of laughter and screams as Bradley manages to score a touchdown and you take him in your arms, smothering him with kisses ignoring his shrieks filled with laughter.

“Got room for some more?”, you hear someone say and you turn around to find the flyboys, with Ice and Maverick in tow.

“What do you say Brad?”, you ask the boy, and he looks at all of them for a moment before looking back at you.

“Sure!”, he says with a shrug of his shoulders, and you smile at his excitement.

“Well, I’ll let you boys start the game, I need something to drink after all of this running.”, you say and Bradley looks unsure for a moment but you smile at him reassuringly.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be right back, you won’t even notice I’m gone while you kick Ice’s ass.”, this makes the blond pilot look up and a cocky smile appears on his lips before he tackles Bradley into his arms making the little boy scream in delight. Maverick is looking at them with a small smile, and you wonder if it’s the first time he has smiled since the accident.

Ron looks at you with worried eyes, but you ignore it as you go towards the small shop at the end of the park picking up a large bottle of water before leaving the small shop. You hear them laughing and screaming from there, a smile appearing on your lips at the sight of them.

You are close to them when you suddenly hit a hard chest, nearly letting the water bottle fall.

“I am so sorry.”, you hear the man say and when you look up you feel surprised to see a familiar man.

“Luke? Hi!”, the man in question looks as surprised as you and a smile appears.

“It’s good to see you, it’s been a long time.”, he says, and you can’t help but laugh at that.

“Since high school I think, how have you been?”, the man starts talking about what happened recently and as you get ready to ask something you feel a strong arm around your waist.

“There you are.”, Ron says before kissing your cheek, an overly sweet smile on his lips as he turns towards Luke.

“Who is this?”, he seems tense, as he looks at Luke and you feel confused for a moment by his soft touch but hard eyes.

“This is Luke, we went to high school together. Luke, this is Ron.”, you say, feeling slightly awkward at the situation but Luke simply smiles.

“It’s nice to meet you, you must be her boyfriend.”, he says with a cheeky grin towards you, and you can’t help but blush before trying to say that he isn’t, but Ron speaks before you are able to.

“I am, so sorry that we haven’t met before we were a little busy with a game.”, he says, and you try not to slam the water bottle on his face and keep smiling.

“I’m guessing that is your group over there?”, Luke says while laughing and you see Bradley managing to score a touchdown making the flyboys cheer.

“It is, we are having some competitive football.”, you tell him and Luke nods in response.

“Well, it was good to see you, but I should go.”, you wish him a good day and when Luke gets far enough you wipe off your smile and slap Ron with the water bottle.

“Aw! What was that for?”, the pilot says while rubbing his chest and pouting but you look at him unimpressed.

“What was that for? Maybe for coming over and acting like you were my boyfriend!”, you whisper harshly, and Ron doesn’t look guilty for a moment.

“He was hitting on you.”, he says, and you scoff in response.

“He was not! And even if he was, what does it matter? We aren’t even together.”, you yell, and Ron looks like he has just bitten into a lemon, a sour look on his face.

“Right, well you have definitely made that clear.”, he says, and you feel frustrated at his antics.

“What do you want me to say Ron? We weren’t together and then we had a falling out, next thing I know you are at my door and now here we are.”, you say while feeling more and more frustrated.

“I know I messed up alright, I do. And I regret it every single day I wake up without you and when I don’t see you or hear from you. But I am not giving up on us, you hear me? I am going to fight for us and show you just how much I care for you and love you.”, his words ring through the wind, and you feel breathless at his words.

“Ron.”, you whisper but the man shakes his head before coming closer to you.

“I know that you could find better, hell that Luke guy is probably so much better than me, but I love you, I want to see you all the time, hear you laugh at my stupid jokes, hold you in my arms and kiss you until I can’t breath anymore. I don’t want anyone else; I just want you.”, you don’t know why you do it, but you take his jacket and bring him forward into a searing kiss.

The feeling of his lips on yours make you feel breathless, butterflies erupting in your stomach and the feeling of being finally home makes you sigh against his lips.

Ron immediately brings an arm around your waist and a hand on your cheek, holding you close while kissing you until the both of you are breathless. You can hear cheering and whistles in the distance, but you ignore them, looking into Ron’s eyes.

“There isn’t anyone else for me either, just you Ron Kerner. And even if you are an idiot, you are mine and I love you too.”, you whisper, and a dazzling smile appears on his lips.

“Thank god.”, he whispers before bringing you back into a passionate kiss.

It took some time to get here but you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

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

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callsignthirsty · 2 years

Text

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

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