#Ron Kerner smut

[h-c-u]

A different type of exercise

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

Pairing: Ron "Slider" Kerner x fem!reader 

W/C: 1.6k

Rating: +18, size difference, daddy kink

TWs: none

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

Masterlist | List of tags

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[topgun-imagines]

ANGST

COMING SOON…

SMUT

COMING SOON…

FLUFF

Show Her How It’s Done

Slider takes you on a proper first date. Warnings: none.

MOODBOARDS

Show Her How It’s Done || Moodboard

The Best Boyfriend || Moodboard

[callsignthirsty]

Stuck at the Navy Ball

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

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

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

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

gif originally posted by neuromancer1888

Chapter 1: Under the Table

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

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

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

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

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

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

Singular.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Color you curious. “What’d he say?”

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

”Oh.”

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

“What’s the winner get?”

”Bragging rights.”

”And?”

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

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

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

”That’s quite a lot on the line.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s all for a good cause.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He doesn’t talk about me much.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Next Chapter

[icezansky]

a fic by Icezansky

summary: Slider's rut finds him alone and desperately hot. Maverick offers to help.

relationships: Ron "Slider" Kerner/Pete "Maverick" Mitchell

tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Knotting, Rutting, Oral Sex, Blow Jobs, Rimming, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Alpha/Alpha

words: 6,748

[calkale]

does anyone have any slimav writing prompts?? I wanna get better at writing :)

[shelfwar]

Could you write something smut with slider?

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

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

~I do~ Slider X Reader |SMUT|

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[blazingstar29]

slimav wip 1.7k

warnings: d/s undertones, leading up to sexual content

releasing this here for anyone to give feedback on, i don't usually feel the need to check if i'm on the right track but i know that slimav is in the minority but people have a lot of opinions about it. it's still a work in progress so keep that in mind aha

At first Maverick thought that Ice was the one trying his luck. Then he realised that the only thing Ice sees in life is his career. His career is the only thing that mattered and yes, that included messing with his rivals. Once that issue was cleared up, he realised that maybe Slider was the one actually trying to make a move. 

Sure, he tries to rationalise. Slider might also be messing with him, just using him as an extension of Goose. Another person to mess with. But does Goose get that feeling of warmth every time Slider says something that is probably meant to sound like an insult, but actually comes across as something completely different? It does to him, anyway.

It only grows from there. Slider radiates a warmth he wants nothing more than to curl up against, even in the midst of Miramar summer. 

The locker room is one of his favourite places. It is full of rivalry and camaraderie and every other flavour of summer. He loves it because it feels like the only place in the Navy he can feel like a kid again. It’s something akin to summer holidays and freezing his ass off outside the school gym. As he throws the doors open though, it feels like none of those things. He’s angry. So fucking angry and at no one but himself. 

His hands are shaking as he leans over on the bench to unlace his boots. Shaking fingers twist into the nylon laces. God, he’s so stupid. So stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. 

“You alright, Mav?” 

Iceman’s voice snaps him from his downward spiral, barley. Seething, he looks over his shoulder and the pilot and RIO behind him. Slider has a look on his face he cannot even begin to unpack right now. 

“Peachy,” he mutters and turns his attention back to his other boot. There’s the telltale scuffle of footsteps leaving the room, but only one set, he realises belatedly. Slider comes into view and takes the boot he’s fighting with, teases the laces from where they’re wrapped in his fingers.  

He begins to untie the laces and Maverick can only grip the edge of the wooden seat and huffs out a sigh. “What are you doing?”

“Helping you. What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Maverick bites out. Slider eases the boot off his foot and sets it alongside the other one. 

“Really?” He asks, standing to full height. Maverick makes an angry sort of noise but decisively looks away. “Having a shower?” 

He nods. Deft fingers pull the zipper of his flight suit down and Maverick has no interest in doing anything to stop them. The sleeves are gently pulled down over his shoulders, warm hands ghosting the back of his neck. Maverick can’t help but shiver. 

“Talk to me,” Slider asks. “What’s your problem?” 

Maverick lifts his arms as Slider pulls his white polo up and over his head. It leaves him hunched over and exposed, the chill on his back rapidly cooling him down. 

“What’s got you so revved up you can't even untie your boot laces?” 

A million things come to mind and none of them are things he wants to tell Slider. They’re all too…real. He really thought at TOPGUN he might be lucky enough to forget the real world. And maybe he gets to come out the other side of this with the trophy, something real and solid to prove he’s the best. Prove that no matter what they think of his father, or of himself, he’s hot shit, he’s great. 

He’s good. 

Says so right there, he would say. Gold plaque and all. Me and Goose. We’re the best.

But he can’t tell Slider that. Can’t even tell him that he feels like shit for fucking up his one chance to prove he’s the best. And not only that, he’s dragging Goose down too. He’s sitting there, barfoot with just his flight suit rolled down to his waist. 

Slider’s hand moves to squeeze his jaw between thumb and forefinger. “Tell me.” 

He doesn’t want to. But Slider doesn’t sound like he’s asking. He takes a breath, trying to find the words. “I’m angry,” he says because it’s the easiest thing to say right now. 

“Why?”

He shakes his head. Slider squeezes his jaw. 

“Because I’m ruining my one chance,” he stammers. “To prove I’m the best.” 

He tenses, expecting another hard squeeze of his jaw. Instead, Slider’s hand slips to cup his cheek so gently Maverick thinks it hurts even more. “Is that all you want? To be called the best, so that you even believe it?”

A keen sort of noise hits the air and it sounds so strange; it’s a moment before he realises that it came from  him. Heat winds its way up his chest, all the way up to his ears. 

���You want to believe you’re the best?” Slider presses. “You want to feel like you’ve earned it?”

The anxious feeling in his gut from earlier flares, seizing his chest until his breathing turns shaky in the quiet room. Slider’s hit the nail on the head, just like that. He hushes Maverick, long fingers intertwining into his cropped hair. It’s a nice feeling, grounding.

Slider leans in close until his lips are right against Maverick’s ear. “You need to calm down.” 

Maverick gulps a breath in, holding it before blowing out for a s long as he can. Once more, he tries repeating it but it comes out faster this time. And faster again. Every ounce of anger he felt and he just can’t channel it into something else.  The energy is thrumming. He can’t stop. Warm hands envelope his own and Slider is guiding his shaking fingers against his chest. 

“Feel me, feel my breathing.” 

Beneath his fingertips he can feel the steady rise and fall of Slider’s chest, his strong heart beat. 

No wonder Ice flies with him. He’s like a rock. Maverick forces his breathing to align with Slider’s. Forces steady breaths in and out through his nose. 

When he looks up the look from before is gone in Slider’s eyes. Strangely, he wants it back. 

—

It’s vaguely concerning how often that Slider manages to find him alone. The late evening is mild tonight and it calls him outside long after everyone else has retired to bed. Eventually making the call to sneak back inside, he slips past the common area, where a light draws his attention. 

Slider stands with his back turned, head hunched as if he’s looking at something in his hands. 

“You alright, Sli?” 

There’s no immediate response. Slider pockets whatever he had and turns around to face Maverick head on. “Yeah, I’m fine. What are you doing out?”

He shrugs, eyes flitting to the windows. Faintly, the lights of Miramar twinkle in the distance. 

“Just felt like walking around.”

Slider smiles mildly. “You do a lot of things because you feel like it, don’t you?”

“No point doing something I don’t feel like,” he says with a smile. “What are you doing, lurking about in the shadows? Ice kicked you out?”

A lazy grin stretches across Slider’s face. He closes the space between them. “Maybe I was waiting for you.”

Goosebumps break out across Mav’s skin. 

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, thought I might jump you on the way back. Find out your secrets to being such a good pilot.” 

Something warm bubbles up inside of his chest. The praise makes him feel giddy and squirmy inside. When he speaks his voice comes out rough. 

“You think I’m a good pilot?”

“I think you’re a very good pilot,” he murmurs. A large hand reaches out to imbed itself into the cropped hair on the side of his head. The same feeling of being grounded floods his nervous system. “You’re a very good pilot with a very bad attitude.”

“So now I’m bad?” Maverick bats his eyelashes. There’s no denying that if either of them glanced down they’d see he was well past half-mast. So much for a calming walk in the night. “What are you going to do about that particular problem?” 

“Oh,” he croons. “I don’t know, Mav. What do you think I should do?” 

“Being thrown in HACQ has never really worked,” he mutters. A cautious hand rising to trace the vinyl design on Slider’s shirt. “Evidently being yelled at by a CO’s never really worked.” 

His eyes drift up to meet Slider’s. 

“Do you like being yelled at? All your flaws layed out in the dirt for everyone to see?”

No. No he fucking doesn’t. Because whether it’s in the dirt or not, everyone knows that they’re there. 

“Well, do you?”

He shakes his head. “No. Not really.”

“And you’re telling me that no one’s ever bent you over their knee to shake some sense into you?” Maverick shakes his head again. “You reckon I should try, see if we can’t shake that bad attitude so you can be a good little pilot?”

Green eyes, dimmed by the low light, look up and there’s something desperate in them. Desperate for the pleasure, desperate for the release. How good it would be for someone else to take his control, given freely and take the choice from his shoulders. Too good. 

“What do you say, Mav?” 

“Please,” he whispers as if someone might be around the corner. “Please.” 

Firm fingers press into his shoulder and turn him around, before urging him forward down the hall. He can feel every finger tip in the small of his back as Slider guides him towards his room. Upon entry, he takes in every piece of information he’s presented with. 

Slider is…organised in a way that looks everything but. His bedside table is overflowing with familial items whereas the desk is laden down with textbooks and paperwork. Amongst the disarray, Maverick sees the order. 

He’s guided towards the bed, a mirror of their previous interaction. Slider kneels down and slides the cowboy boots from his feet. He holds them a loft, pursing his lips and looks at Maverick out of the corner of his eye.

“What?” He asks petulantly. 

Slider feigns innocence. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Sure, sure.” 

“Brat.” 

Maverick grins. 

When Slider looks up, his eyes are ablaze with that look from the locker room. Something…hungry. It doesn’t make Maverick feel unsafe, quite the opposite. Beneath the gaze he feels warm and safe. Slider's fingers move to grasp the tail of his belt, the question of permission unspoken but heard. A nod of his head and Slider’s tugging the belt undone and pulling it free. All the while he remains kneeling in front of him. 

He helps Slider with the button of his jeans and stands, letting him shimmy the starched denim down his hips to the floor. 

[29625]

Please, please, please, let me get what I want (bottom Slider smut)

[aki-draws-things]

Me: collegues are pissing me off today, so since they always come around when I write during lunch, today I'm gonna go and wrote smut with a poker face, just for their reactions. (they don't exactly know English, so I'm relatively safe still)

Also me: how about a little omegaverse? I'm sure everyone would line up so prettily for Mav...

Mav: *3 words later, ends up being an alpha and setting his eyes on an already claimed omega who looks everything but an omega*

Me: well... That took a weird turn. Unexpected, but kinda nic--- Bill fucking Cortell don't you dare sticking yourself into Slider one more time leave some for the others!

[h-c-u]

Unhealthy Obsession

Summary: The one where Slider is obsessed with you, but you were obsessed with him first

Pairing: Ron "Slider" Kerner x stalker fem!reader 

W/C: 7.6k

Rating: +18, stalking, age gap, size difference, creepy and unhealthy relationship, psycho reader, underage reader in the beginning (no descriptions of sex until she's 19), mentions of other people having underage sex.

TWs: Stalking

A/N: Dead Dove Do Not Eat. You are responsible for the media you consume. 

Taglist: @jovialladyaurora

Masterlist | List of tags

You were just a few weeks shy of 17 when you saw him for the first time, and right then and there you knew that he was yours and you were going to be his... He just didn't know it yet.

He came to your high school with his friend who was giving a speech about how important the Navy is, and why all of you should consider joining, although he didn't exactly look like he believed in what he was saying, at least not to a bunch of teens. You didn't care about the rear admiral of whatever though... Instead, your eyes were glued to his shadow, leaning back on a very uncomfortable chair... He looked as if being here was a punishment, and you couldn't blame him, because you hated this place with passion. And he was just so easy to look at, all nonchalant, skillfully playing with a butterfly knife without any care in the world, and you couldn't help but wonder what else his fingers could do. You knew that one day you would find out, but for now - you just wanted to know his name... The patch on his uniform only said "Slider", and you smirked as soon as you were able to decipher it from afar. But that wasn't enough to find him...

Finally, you overheard him introduce himself to your English teacher after the whole presentation. Ron Kerner... He was laying it thick, and she was blushing. Oh well... you never liked that bitch. You took a very calculated look at them both and noticed the knife sticking out of the back pocket of his pants. One more look around, and no one was paying attention to anyone, people were walking briskly away from the corridor, and it wasn't that uncommon to bump into someone if you were not careful.

You were very fortunate to have a best friend who was your literal ride-or-die, and one look between you two was enough for her to see that you were in your little psycho mode, and she was already jumping in on it. You grabbed her by the wrist and both of you jogged towards your man. Just as you were getting closer, you pulled her in, so from the outside it looked like she accidentally shoved you. Enough for you to glide against his back and lift the knife from his back pocket, but not enough for you to land on the floor. Before both of you sped up, she shouted sorry, and dragged you around the corner, pushing your back against the wall.

- You always choose them hot... - she whispered, grabbing your hand, which was wrapped around the stolen black butterfly knife, and forcing you to present your trophy. She hummed, a little bit impressed with your pickpocketing skills

- After all, I chose you too, didn't I...? - you laughed, but when she reached to grab the knife you shot her a warning look, and she backed off immediately. Even though you shared almost everything, there was still respect for the few boundaries that were left. Well... When it mattered.

- You did. What's your plan...? - she took a quick look around the corner, and let you know it was safe to watch, so you peeked at him again.

- I'll just take him... - you said with a dangerous smile, while he was still flirting with your teacher. - It will take some time and a lot of effort, but he's the last one... I can feel it... - Heather looked at you instead at him, and something in your eyes told her that this time you were serious, and it made her sad a little because it meant an end to a certain era.

- What are we doing about her? - she asked, and she didn't even have to add anything else for you to understand exactly who she was talking about.

- It's an old building... So many things are worn to the point of danger... And it's so easy to just... slip... if you're not careful. - the devious smile crept on your face, especially when you saw that he put his hand under her chin, forcing her to look at him and you clenched your jaw. It would be so easy for you to unravel and lunge at the older women, but you knew it wouldn't work to your liking in the long term... You had to be patient.

- Noted... Leave it to me... - she leaned a bit closer to you and put a hand on your hip. - Do you think he's got a record? - she asked quietly, and you liked where her thoughts were going.

- I don't think so... Military and all... And even if he did something illegal, he might have gotten away scot-free... But... We can still check. - he finally left the woman alone and flustered, because his friend called him and let him know that it was time to leave.

- What are you gonna do about Matty...? - Heather leaned back when he finally disappeared from your line of sight, giving you more room to breathe.

- I can prep him for you if you want... He would give you a sweet, perfect, pillow-princess life that we all know you deserve. - you flashed your teeth at her, and she laughed out loud at the thought. You honestly liked Matt; being his girlfriend without that might have been a bit hard. But you knew from the beginning that it just wasn't… it. But his parents were loaded and more than fine with you staying there most nights, since they knew your situation.

You never knew your parents, and the idea of adoption never stuck with any of your foster families. Well, you didn't blame them, because when you were a kid, you didn't know how to keep your psycho in check. Now things were different... You were much crueler and more calculated, but only when you were sure that you could get away with it; you had to learn that the hard way... But it was already too late for you to find a good home since most families wanted kids young enough to call them mommy and daddy, so you had to find a way to get a good life on your own. And the simplest option was to marry into a good, naive family, and Matt was exactly that for you, a means to a good life... Well, until today.

- Nah, we both know I'd suffocate. Milk him for all you can till the last possible moment. - Heather gave you a soft smile. - And maybe make him buy me a nice, expensive purse for my birthday... - she laughed, and you were finally ready to move.

- Deal. - she wrapped her arm around your waist and led you both out of school.

It didn't take you long to get to the police station, where the sheriff was already waiting for Heather, and when she was screwing him in the bathroom, you snuck into his unlocked office - perks of a small town; everyone trusted each other. But leaving your login and password on a sticky note taped to the monitor was just stupidity; you weren't complaining about that though.

It wasn't the first time you found yourself searching through all the databases that this shitty department had access to. It took some time to load everything, but you were able to find a file with his name from over 20 years ago, which must have been before he joined the Navy; fortunately for you - it wasn't sealed. And just like that you had all his details, including the address, although you doubted, he still lived there. But there was also a mugshot, all beaten and bloody, but with a cocky smile lighting up his face as if he didn't regret anything he did. You quickly skimmed through the file to learn what he did, and you couldn't help but grin. He beat up 6 other guys for trying to gang up on some girl. He was released the next day, but there was no information about what happened after that.

You quickly printed two copies of the file and deleted the information about your search, although you seriously doubted that anyone here would realize what happened. You waited patiently in front of the building for Heather, and it didn't take long; they never lasted long with her... But fucking the sheriff had its perks, especially when her afterschool activities weren't exactly legal.

- Got what you wanted? - she asked as soon as she opened the door, and you nodded with a smile, file safely tucked away in your bag. - Great. Do you want to spend the night and brainstorm...? - like she had to ask. You loved her to bits, and you knew exactly how lucky you were to have someone as crazy as you, either to keep in check, or push you to extremes, and Heather was perfect in balancing both sides of you.

- With you? Always! - you laughed and grabbed her hand, intertwining your fingers with hers. In another life, she would have been the love of your life and you would ride into a sunset together, but in this one, you were more likely to blow up the factory and walk away from it, with explosions behind you.

Her house was modest, a complete contrast to her personality, clothes, and accessories, but it's not like she could flaunt her money in front of her grandma, who was her legal guardian. Although considering how oblivious she was, you wouldn't be surprised if she didn't even notice.

It took both of you a few hours of intense research to find all the necessary details and make a plan based on them.

You found out that Captain Ron Kerner was a highly decorated RIO, but it was hard to find much more about specifically him. Fortunately, there was information about how to get in touch with former and active members of the military via a specific office. And Heather also found information about the Naval Academy archive, where some of the files were kept, so you knew that sooner rather than later, there will be a road trip in your plans.

You also learned more about the Navy recruitment process because you already knew that you were going to change your whole carrier path just for him. Technically you would be able to apply in less than a month if you wanted to go the more... traditional route. But you wanted to be a pilot, to be close to him, and the Naval Academy wouldn't admit someone without a high school diploma, so you would have to wait two more months until graduation.

The Naval Academy itself would last 4 years, but in the end - it would have been worth it... For him, you were willing to starve yourself and live off the crumbs, because the meal you'll be eating till the end of your days would be better than ambrosia.

The second time you saw him was during your third week of boot camp and it took all your self-control not to throw yourself at him when you saw him sitting in a white plastic chair, all smug and with one leg thrown over the armrest, reading a newspaper, while his group of newbies was doing push-ups on rough sand. It was so easy to imagine sliding in between his thighs, undoing his pants, and taking his whole length into your mouth... But it wasn't the time just yet. You needed him wrapped around your finger and not thinking about you as a one-night stand.

But you still couldn't help yourself, and you messed up your exercise on purpose to get more laps at the end of the day, just so you could spend more time outside and catch a glimpse of him every three minutes when you were at that specific part of the field. You felt like a drug addict with the next dose dangling right in front of your face; like he was a magnet pulling you in with such strength, that you couldn't lose focus even for a second, because if you did – you would mess everything up.

And yet it still didn't stop you from sneaking to the men's locker room at the end of the day, when you noticed him going in there. You knew that at this time every single recruit would be eating dinner, so the chances of anyone catching you there were minimal. You were just hoping to catch a glimpse of him, maybe smell what type of gel he was using, but you got so much more...

The loud sounds of water drowned your light steps when you got to the common area, wrapped only in a towel, so you could use getting lost as a possible excuse if needed. Only one of the stalls was occupied and the shower curtain was almost entirely drawn, but there was a maybe... 3-5cm gap through which you were able to see him... Well, his back, to be more specific. The water was cascading over his neck and back muscles. One of his hands was on the wall in front of him and the other was lower, moving around his abdomen in a slow but rhythmic pace... And then you heard his moan... It shot straight through your core, and you had to put your hand over your mouth not to reveal that you were there.

You tried moving to a different spot in hopes of seeing more from a different angle, but it was futile. So instead, you leaned on the wall close to the door, and keeping your eyes on him, you moved one of your hands under your towel. He was just a couple of meters away from you and you could almost taste him in the steamy air. You wanted nothing more than for him to sink into you and use you in any way he wanted... But for now, the knowledge of him getting off with your eyes laser-focused on him had to be enough, and with Slider so close, it didn't take you much time to cum and drench your hand with your own release. Thank gods the floor was already wet, and you were wrapped in a towel.

And then the water suddenly stopped, so you reached for the door handle, but before you left you couldn't help yourself from grabbing a t-shirt he was wearing earlier today from a bag on the bench, and then you bolted outside, not really caring about much more.

After the shower encounter you had to wait much longer to see him again, but you knew that was a possibility due to the nature of his career. It didn't change the fact that you still craved him with every atom of your body, so when you heard his voice... You had to lean on the wall not to fall over. It took you a moment to compose yourself, but when you eventually did, you turned around, so you could look at him speaking with one of the commanders you knew you should remember the name of, but you didn't. Slider was asking about the exact group size, and you instantly got curious, so you stayed back to learn even more.

He was about to do a guest lecture for a class two years above you and hell would have to freeze over for you to miss it. So, after overhearing the lecture's name and the room number, you came up with a plan for how to sneak into the auditorium. It wasn't exactly hard, because there were over one hundred people waiting, and because it was a mix of few groups, no one knew everyone. You made sure to sit in the back of the auditorium, but not entirely in the back, so you wouldn't stick out on the background of mostly much taller, male aviators who occupied the last few rows.

By this time, you already knew about every non-classified mission he was a part of, whom he flew with, and who his friends were. You knew all his grades, memorized his dissertation, and every published essay he was a part of creating... You were basically a walking encyclopedia on Captain Ron Kerner, thanks to the files available in the academy.

But then the attendance list was read out loud and your name wasn't on it. The guy next to you gave you a dirty look when he realized that, but you just shrugged and mumbled something about talking to the teachers after the lecture, because you didn't want to interrupt now. But then, as the presentation was loading up on the screen, someone else realized. You could tell Slider noticed you for the first time ever and was about to call you out, so you did the only thing that came to your mind which was placing a finger on your lips, as if you tried to shush him, and winking at him, and as soon as you did that, he gave the most beautiful, jaw-dropping smirk that almost made you blush. But he didn't draw attention to you, although his gaze stopped at you a few times over the whole lecture, which contents you wouldn’t be able to recall even under torture.

Although you wanted nothing more than for him to bend you over that desk and fuck you so hard you would have bruises to remember him by, you focused on the bigger picture; it was too early. So, you snuck out of the auditorium about 10 minutes before the end of the lecture, without drawing any attention to yourself and left for your next class, trying your best to come up with a good excuse for why you missed the last one.

The next morning you just happened to hang out in the guest area, pretending you were waiting for someone, and not at all because you wanted to see in which room he was staying. He didn't notice you this time, his attention fully on one of the 4th year students, or rather - her breasts. you dutifully noted all you could about her to find her in the records later today. When they disappeared behind the corner, you went into the hall they emerged from and entered his room as if you were supposed to do that, and because of the confidence in your moves, nobody questioned you. It wasn't the first time you used the master key you stole from the cleaning crew during your first week here, and it definitely wouldn't be the last, but it would be the most memorable.

It wasn't the place he was living in, so it didn't have many marks that he was there, but still... The sheets in his bed were stained with his cum, which you found atrocious because you wouldn't let one drop go to waste, so that bitch definitely deserved what will come for her... His clothes were bundled up in his bag, and you just couldn't help yourself. You knew he wouldn't be back for a while, so you took out every single item from his bag and analyzed every detail. It wasn't much, just regular things a person would need during a three-day trip, but now you knew what type of soap and toothpaste he was using. He even had his cologne in the bag, and you just had to put it on your wrists and behind your ears.

You looked at your watch... If you stayed any longer, there was a high chance that you would be late, but you didn't know when would be the next time you'll be able to see him, so you chose to live a little... You climbed into the bed he had sex on last night, unbuttoned your trousers, and slid your hand under the material. You knew your body well and you knew where to rub, what to pinch, and where to push to get off as quickly as possible, and you did just that. It wasn't even two minutes before you were on your stomach, ass high up in the air and your face smashed against the pillow in search of the slightest trace of his scent. And when you finally finished, you had to bite on the material not to let anyone in the neighboring rooms know what you were doing there.

You unintentionally left a wet imprint of your mouth on that pillow, but you were 90% sure it would dry out before he comes back, so you honestly didn't care... And even if he realized, it's not like he could connect you to this small breaking and entering. Before you left, you grabbed one of his boxers from the bag, as a souvenir; it's not like he was going to miss them...

Next time you didn't exactly see him, only his gear in the locker room... Which meant that he was leading a flying exercise you unfortunately somehow missed. But you still waited patiently to see if he'd show up to collect it, but he didn't, which left you a little bit disappointed, because you haven't seen him for almost half a year now... But you still kept your eyes on the bigger picture, so instead of doing anything stupid or making a scene, you cut the straps of his helmet with the knife you stole from him the first time you saw him, which you started keeping on you after one of the guys from your year tried to do something he definitely shouldn't.

Back in your room, you cut the leather even more and sewn it back together, so it could be worn as a bracelet, and no one would be wiser. And after you put it on, it never left your wrist, serving as a reminder of what was about to come.

It was four months later when you met him next time... One of your teachers actually officially introduced you two together when you stayed longer to discuss a project you were working on. You didn't even know he was even in the academy because there were no guest lectures planned for the next week, so that meant he was here for something else.

- Pleasure to meet you, sir. - you donned your most neutral smile, but you could tell that he recognized you.

- I feel like I know you from somewhere... - there it was, that cocky grin that made your knees go weak, but fortunately you were already leaning on the desk, so you didn't fall over right then and there. - Have we already met? - he dug a little bit deeper, and you had to actively fight your body, so it wouldn't do anything stupid.

- I don't think so, sir. At least not officially... I was a spectator on one of your lectures last year, maybe that's it...? - you offered, and you knew that was it. Your brain was singing that he remembered you and that he deemed you worth remembering.

- Ah, you were the stowaway... - he laughed, and you never heard something as hypnotizing. - You weren't on the list, but you were still in the room. - he stated and there was no sense in denying it, so you sheepishly nodded and allowed a blush to show up on your face. It was actually perfect that you didn't have to keep it in check anymore, because it fit the situation, and you didn't have to force yourself to breathe in a specific way. - It's all right, I won't tell anyone... - he took a step closer, put his hand on your arm, and gently rubbed your skin there with his thumb. You could have sworn that there was electricity jumping in between your bodies, and when you looked up to gaze into his eyes... If it wasn't for the teacher still standing behind the desk, you would be pulling Slider into a deep kiss and undoing his pants, and the darkness in his eyes told you that he wouldn't object.

- Thank you, sir... - you whispered. You felt the need to swallow, but your mouth never felt drier. It took all the strength you had to look away and focus on your teacher.

- I should probably go to my next class. Can we finish discussing this tomorrow? - you asked, the blush still present on your face and chest, but from a completely different reason than the two men assumed.

- Sure. See you then. - he replied, and you broke the contact between Slider's hand and your bicep.

- Goodbye, sir... - you said much quieter and then you almost teleported out of the room, but your classes were the last thing on your mind. You quickly ducked into the bathroom and closed the door to one of the stalls to take care of the wet, sticky mess in between your thighs.

He was waiting for you the next day when you left the classroom you met in the day before, and he honestly scared you by saying your name, because you weren't expecting anyone on the other side of the door.

- Good afternoon, sir. - you said matter-of-factly. Today you were much more composed than yesterday. Maybe it was because you knew how close you were to your goal, or maybe the many, many orgasms you reached the night before. Alone, but still...

- Drop the "sir", Doll... You know both my name and my callsign, so why not use one of those? - there it was again... that cocky smile.

- Protocol, sir. – when you said the last word, you looked directly into his eyes and smirked. He laughed and you looked back into the corridor you were taking. He not only waited for you, he was actively following you right now to your next class, and you could feel the looks of other students on you, but you didn't give a fuck. Not when, after almost two years, he was finally paying attention to you.

- You shouldn't make a habit of disobeying direct orders from your superior officer... - he tried to tease, but you just chuckled.

- There is a whole HR department taking care of superior officers who order their subordinates to break rules and laws... Sir...- you teased right back, and you could tell that based on your interaction yesterday he wasn't expecting that. He was expecting a shy, naive, easy-to-manipulate girl that he could use and throw out, but you clearly had other plans. And since he was already interested, the hardest part was behind you. Now you had to remain challenging enough for him to have fun thinking he was seducing you, which was really as challenging as you wanted to be because his pride was even bigger than his muscles.

- Ah, touché... - he raised his arms in a gesture of surrender, but he didn't stop following you. - How about a private lesson then...? I could help you with your engineering project. - he offered, and you had to fight the smile, because you knew what he really meant by that.

- Thank you, sir, but respectfully no. I really have to work on it, and everyone knows how the "private lessons" with you can end. Especially the ones in your room. - you sighed, pretending to be just a little bit annoyed. Of course, he had a reputation. You knew every single one of his conquests because making their life miserable was one of your favorite hobbies. But he didn't need to know that... At least not yet.

- Oh yeah...? So, I have that kind of reputation...? - he tried to joke, but you shot him a warning look. You could easily bruise his ego by telling him that girls talk and imply that the things they were saying were not always good, but that might have been too much. - How about we meet in your room? That way your roommates can chaperon and make sure that I'm keeping my hands to myself...? - he offered, and you pretended to carefully consider his proposition.

- Fine. But just schoolwork. I really have to finish this project. - you eventually replied. - Room 312, 6:30 PM. Don't be late... Sir... - he chuckled, clearly pleased with himself.

- It's a date. - he laughed just as you were reaching the classroom you were about to have the next lesson in.

You didn't finish the project that evening because both of your roommates were magically busy all night. And you had nothing to do with that. Not at all.

He honestly did try to take you out on dates, but before you were able to leave the academy, you just ended up in your room. Or his. Or the janitor's closet. Or the bathroom closest to the exit. Once you even made it to his car, but the car never left the grounds... To the majority of people, from the outside, you were either a cute love story where two people met by accident and fell head over heels for each other, but there was a lot that saw your relationship as inappropriate, due to the fact, that he was a high ranking officer, and you were much younger than him, and they didn't even know the half of it.

With time you started showing him your darker side, and he repaid you by doing the exact same, or at least he thought he was, because you knew it for a long time by now.

But only when you were absolutely sure that Slider was as obsessed with you, as you were with him, you decided to tell him everything. A conversation wasn't exactly your style, though... So instead, you retrieved your special box from the vent and took everything out... The knife you stole from him when you saw him for the first time, the t-shirt that magically disappeared from his gym bag when he was training newbies in boot camp, the boxers he somehow managed to lose when he was visiting the Academy, and his arrest file, from before he joined the navy; the one you printed years ago, while Heather was screwing the sheriff.

You knew exactly when he'd be back in your quarters, so you were ready when the doors opened with a loud slam against the wall, and almost immediately slammed again, this time against the frame. You loved him like that, so eager to fuck you, that he was forgetting his own strength. He started taking his uniform off on his way to the bed, where you were splayed out, lazily reading his file (or rather pretending to read, because you had it all memorized for years now) and playing with a butterfly knife. Only when he unbuckled his belt did he realize from where exactly he recognized that t-shirt and growled so deeply that you felt it in your chest, even though he wasn't right next to you. It took him a few more seconds to recognize other items.

- Mmmmm... My little psycho kleptomaniac... - he purred, kneeled on the bed, and started kissing and licking up your calf and thigh until he got to his boxers. He buried his nose deep and inhaled your scent through the already-soaked material. - How long...? - he asked and bit on the material of the underwear that was one day his. You couldn't help but smile, when he started to remove the boxers with his teeth, dragging them all the way down your legs, until you were no longer wearing them.

- Almost two years before we officially met... - you replied, watching him closely when he started climbing on top of you, kissing, licking, and biting your leg, marking every inch of skin he came in contact with. But before he got to your pussy, you put your leg on his shoulder, stopping him where he was. You knew perfectly well he could easily overpower you by pinning your leg right next to your head and fucking you like an animal, but he didn't... not yet at least.

- Baby... - he pleaded, turned his head to your ankle, and bit it affectionately. But he still didn't move any further.

- You truly don't give a fuck, do you...? - there wasn't even a drop of judgment in your voice, just pure fascination.

- Oh, I want to give you all my fucks... - a devilish grin danced on his lips. - And it's hot... Knowing that you were watching me from afar... - he started moving again, and you let your leg slide on his shoulder until you were able to bend your knee over it. - Stealing my stuff just so you could get a sniff of my sweat... - he continued leaning forward, his torso looming over you. He finally reached your lips and started kissing you with such passion, that for a moment you forgot how to breathe. - I wonder how many times I could have fucked you before we officially met... You see what you did...? Now I'm angry... - you knew he wasn't serious, but it was still fun. - Because you got to know me much sooner. And because I was fucking all those bimbos while I could have been buried deep inside you, filling you with my cum every day... And you would have let me do that day one, wouldn't you...? - he grabbed your leg and pulled it down, so you could hook it around his hips. Even after all the crazy stuff you were doing in bed and out of it, a simple missionary was still your favorite... With his giant, strong body pinning you to the mattress, so you had no means to escape, while you could still stare at each other... Watching how the expressions on your faces changed, how you reacted to the sounds the other made, and devouring each other when all of that wasn't enough.

- You know I would. - you said with a huge grin, while he slowly started sliding between your folds, covering his dick with your juices, teasing you with every move, because he knew how desperate you were for him.

- Tell me about it. - he demanded. - Tell me when you knew you wanted me. - you couldn't stop a soft chuckle from escaping your mouth. You truly were a match made in hell.

- I was still 16, well 17th in two weeks... And you came into my high school with Iceman singing praises about how awesome the Navy was... - He finally dipped his head into your opening but didn't move until you started speaking again. - But I had eyes only for you... - a cocky smile crawled across his lips, while he slowly buried himself deeper and deeper inside of you. You honestly couldn't remember the last time he had to spend time stretching you, because even on a slow day, you fucked at least four times, and that mixed with the fact that a simple look from him could make you instantly wet... Well... Let's just say that you were always ready for him. - You were sitting a few rows in front of me, playing with that knife... - with your chin, you pointed at the black knife that lay next to the pillow. - And I just knew you were mine and I was yours...

- My perfect… little… psycho… stalker... - he grinned when he finally bottomed out inside you and leaned down to place a hungry kiss on your mouth. - How did you get the knife? - he asked pulling away, teeth still around your lip, and you let him pull you up like that, wrapping your arms around his neck at some point.

- I bumped into you when you were flirting with my English teacher and lifted it from your back pocket then... And Heather was with me, pretending that she accidentally shoved me. - you wanted him to move so badly, but you knew that won't happen just yet. You could feel your pussy stretched and pulsating around him, and you were slowly losing your mind.

- Ah... I think I remember... The teacher was married but still slipped me her number... - he grinned, and you clenched around him so hard that it actually hurt... In that gentle burn kind of way, but still.

- She didn't stay married for much longer... Her husband divorced her for his much, much younger mistress when she fell down the stairs and landed in a wheelchair. - there was something in your smile that told him exactly who was responsible for that unfortunate accident. - I fucked myself with it more times than I can count... - your smile was anything but innocent.

- Oh, baby... I would love to see that... So desperate for me that even the faint memory of my fingers on it could get you off. Tell me more... - he requested with a devilish grin.

- I'll tell you everything, but very pretty, please... Fuck me first... I missed you... - you grabbed a fist full of his hair and tried to pull him towards you, but he resisted.

- You said it yourself... You could have been fucking me for two whole years before we got introduced, so I know you can be patient when you want. You can wait a little bit more... - he teased, and you tried to wiggle your hips, but he had them in an iron grip, his fingers wrapped around almost your whole midsection. Every attempt to move was leaving red imprints of his hands on your skin because he was clenching them even more when you moved. You leaned forward and rubbed your forehead against his cheek.

- Ronnie, please, I can't... I can't think about anything with you inside... Please, please fuck your perfect little psycho into the mattress... - you were rambling, your eyes glossed, your cheeks flushed, and your lips parted and plumped from his bites earlier.

- Oh, baby... I will, I promise... But you gotta tell me more... Come on, you know you can do it for me... - and those magic words were enough for you to start talking. You could do anything and everything for him...

- I joined the Navy just for you... During my third week in boot camp, I saw you under the shower and it got me so horny that I squirted on the floor. That's when I stole the shirt... I got into the academy because I knew you were sometimes giving guest lectures. The day after I snuck into the... - he chose this moment to thrust into you once, and you couldn't stop the loud moan that escaped your lungs, but even if you could... You didn't want to. - Ronnie, please... - you begged quietly, but he didn't move, clearly letting you know that the more you said, the harder he'll fuck you. - The day after the lecture, I broke into your room and masturbated in your bed... And I stole your boxers. That evening when you were supposed to help with a project - all planned. I started training to be a pilot just so there would be a chance that we'd be stationed together... I left everything and did everything just for you... - the sentences coming out of your mouth weren't exactly coherent, but with your every word, he smiled more and more.

- All that just for little old me...? - he teased, but he released his grip on your hips and gently started moving his hands up your body, so they disappeared under the t-shirt that was one day his.

- Come on, we both know that you're anything but little... - you laughed quietly, still absolutely high on his smell, his taste, the delicious stretch he was a cause of. It was hard to think about anything but him... You leaned back a bit, so the bulge on your abdomen was visible even through the shirt; he couldn't help himself, and put his huge hand over it, which made you moan quietly. You loved how small you were compared to him, and how easily you could accommodate any part of him; it was like you were made for each other.

- So, you're calling me old...? - he continued teasing you, and you couldn't stop the tears coming to your eyes... You weren't sad, or angry... You were frustrated and desperate, and you could do nothing about it...

And you loved every second of it.

- I might start to think you're old if you won’t start fucking me, Ronnie... - you whispered, your voice more air than actual soundwaves... You honestly tried to match his energy, but your mind was starting to slowly check out from the overstimulation and hopelessness, but you just knew it will be worth it.

- Oh baby... - he cooed and licked the tears from your cheeks. - I love it when you're so desperate... - he licked over your closed eyes, squeezing a few more drops from under them, and gently blew on your face, drying all the wetness he left behind. - So perfect... Just for me... My perfect little psycho... - he wrapped his arms around your torso, holding you as close to him as possible. - Mine... - he growled and finally started moving you slowly up and down, as if you weighed nothing in his arms, and considering how much he could actually lift, it shouldn't be surprising.

Your moans were obscene and lewd, and he encouraged you to be even louder, so everyone in the dorms would know that you were his, and you happily obliged, because you no longer cared... You were moaning, screaming, crying mess while he was basically using your body like a toy. You begged him to go faster, stronger, deeper, more... But he was still burying himself in you painfully slow, whispering in your ear that if he knew how patient you could be, he would have used that earlier to drive you even crazier, to get you so drunk on his cock that you'd forgotten how to speak, just like you did now because words weren't important for such a perfectly desperate slut like you... And you couldn't even deny that, because the only thing you could think about right now was his dick moving inside you. You were on the verge of breaking completely, but before you managed to whisper that one magic word that could have changed everything, he laid you back on the bed, gripped your shoulders for leverage, and started pounding into you with his whole strength, and you instantly fell apart under him, but he wasn't done yet. He kept his pace, breaking you into smaller and smaller pieces, until there was nothing left behind your eyes.

Your whole body was twitching and spasming, locked in place in his strong grip, and you were overstimulated to the point of blinding pain, but you didn't tell him to stop even then; you knew you could take more, and more he gave. He used your body for his pleasure, letting your walls constantly milk his cock in a perpetuate state of multiple orgasms washing over your body again and again. Until he screamed so loud, everyone in the building had to hear him, and he slammed his hips against yours with such fervor, that you knew you wouldn't be able to walk straight tomorrow, because your whole midsection would be bruised.

He buried his face in your neck, and even though he collapsed on the bed from the intensity of everything, he still didn't let you go. It took both of you a moment to calm down, with your body occasionally involuntarily twitching from time to time.

- Marry me. - he said and you honestly thought you heard him wrong, so you didn't even bother opening your eyes.

- Hmmm...? - you just hummed, still lost in the aftershocks of pleasure and your nose buried in his hair.

- Marry me. - he repeated after he raised his head, so his words were more eligible now. You didn't answer at first, still processing the words. - I'm serious. I'm yours, you're mine. Why wait? - it was as simple as that.

- Hmmm... - you pretended to think about it - Mrs. Kerner does have a nice ring to it... - you laughed quietly and pulled him into a deeper kiss. He started to pull out of you, and a needy moan escaped your mouth, which made him smirk.

- Well, about the ring... - he said, pulling even further from you, and shifted, so his upper body was hanging off your bed. He reached somewhere deep under it, and you could feel the mattress shifting from below for a short moment, and then he moved back on top of you and presented you with a simple silver band with very intricate carvings of wildflowers etched into it. He knew you hated any type of jewelry with gemstones, and you didn't like wearing anything that might catch on anything, so that meant that he either went looking specifically for something he knew you'd love and just happened to find it or had it custom-made.

- You hid the engagement ring under my bed? - you couldn't help but laugh.

- You like going through my things, Doll, and I didn't want you to find it. - well, he wasn't wrong. Although by this time you were doing that with his full knowledge and permission because what was his - was yours, and what was yours - was his.

- What are you waiting for? Put it on! - you sat up and gave him your hand. Literally and metaphorically.

- I was waiting for a yes. - he took your hand to put a perfectly sized ring on your finger.

- Yes. You won't get rid of me that easy. With or without the ring. - you chuckled, admiring the intricate etchings on the silver band, not that they mattered, but you were curious.

- I think we already established that... - he replied with a devilish and pulled you into a kiss.

A/N 2: Please don’t feel obligated/pressured to reblog, because I write mostly for myself. A comment would be appreciated though :) Love, G.

[topgun-imagines]

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!

[callsignthirsty]

Chapter 3: Behind the Door

Pairing: Tom "Iceman" Kazansky x F!Reader x Ron "Slider" Kerner Summary: Interrupting Iceman. Word Count: 4100 Warnings: Smut, bets and wagers, semi-public sex, fingering Chapter: 3/4 Minors DNI Previous Chapter

Slider's head whips around, shoulders drawn tight toward his ears as the crash of the door startles you both.

"Kerner!"

The split-second of terror subsides with that voice.

Ice.

Slider grunts, stubbornly diving back between your thighs. A man on a mission.

"I know you're up here, and I'm giving you to the count of three."

"No," you whimper, hips rocking against Slider's fingers, urging them to work faster. "Don't stop."

"One."

Instead of responding, Slider's breath ghosts over your clit as he presses two fingers into your cunt, curling them to pinpoint your sweet spot and hurtle you toward the edge.

The click of Ice's shoes is loud as he stalks toward you. "Two."

"So good," Slider hums against your slick skin. You squeeze your eyes closed, keening at the praise. "Almost there, baby."

Sli hisses as fingers fist in his short hair and yank him from between your legs.

"Three."

You whimper at the sudden loss of stimulation and the pour of cool night air over heated skin.

Slider has the audacity to flash Ice a smug smile. "Oh," he says as if he hadn't known the two of you were no longer alone. "Hey, Ice."

Pale eyes narrow as if asking Slider if that's the game they're going to play, then Ice pulls a tissue from his pocket and holds it to his RIO. "You've got lipstick on your face."

Slider's tongue peeks out to lick his lips. "That's not the only thing on my face."

Ice doesn't dignify him with a response, only releasing Slider when he stands and steps back to give you enough space for Ice to resettle you—steadying you on your own two feet and smoothing wrinkled velvet before procuring another tissue to help clean up the rouge smudged beyond the bounds of your lips.

Once you're deemed presentable, Ice descends the steps with his hand wrapped around your wrist, guiding you with an insistent tug that makes you feel more like an insolent child than his date. You want to stamp your feet as Ice assures you that he only needs to talk to a couple more officers he wants to speak with before you can get out of there.

Between the forced separation through staggered travel to D.C. and the night's two encounters—both of which had taken you to the very edge before leaving you high and dry—you're at your limit. So, to say you aren't paying attention to the conversation is an understatement. How are you supposed to pay attention to anything when you're oscillating between the jitters of unsated arousal and lightly filtered frustration?

Because who the hell does he think he is—do they think they are—to draw you into their little macho pissing contest? It's a wonder Iceman and Slider can both fit into the cockpit with their egos so blown out of proportion.

What should it matter in the end? They know you're going home with both of them.

Not that you get to say any of this. Instead, you're left to stew with empty eyes, a pinched smile, and a clenched fist at Ice's side as he makes a good impression on a commander. You're scraping the barrel with each half-hearted laugh at the officer's dull jokes, the Brut in your glass swirling between your fingers untouched. Each shift of your legs brings you closer to angry tears as the spit between them turns tacky, the microabrasions from Slider's stubble smarts reminding you of your lack of undergarment and the dissatisfied, borderline painful feeling of emptiness.

But it'll be a cold day in hell before you let any tears fall. You have your own pride to manage, and besides, no one wants to mingle with the serviceman whose date's eyes burn a tear-stung red.

"How much longer?" you ask Ice once the commander leaves.

Ice gives you an assessing look, eyebrows pulled down, and his head lightly tilted. You can't tell if he feels bad about what he's putting you through or is confused by your shortness of tone. "Impatient?"

You scoff, barely repressing the urge to cross your arms. Instead, you take a sip of your Brut, nose wrinkling as it bursts bitter across your tongue. "Whatever," you huff, done with the conversation and resigning yourself to more of the same. Ice had said there were "a couple" officers he wanted to talk with, after all.

Ice draws a deep breath in through his nose; lips pursed as he looks up to the ceiling. You know he's looking for the right words. You're still determining what those words would be. You know for a fact he won't find them painted on the ceiling.

Lucky for you—because you're not done being upset with him yet—Ice can't pinpoint what he's looking for before you're interrupted.

"Woah!" a familiar blonde excuses, bumbling into Ice and nearly spilling his beer on matching whites. "Sorry about that, still got my sea le– oh! Ice, hey!" Excuse dropped as a beamish grin overtakes Wolfman's face, cheeks tinged pink with drink.

"Wolf," you giggle as Wolf pulls you into a better mood with a friendly hug. It's hard to be all doom and gloom when Wolf's involved; he's a veritable ray of sunshine. "Where's 'Wood?"

"Pfft," he snorts. "Where's anyone? I mean, 'Wood's somewhere with his girl, but one minute I'm with Sli and Chip, the next Sli's gone and Chip's found himself a pretty little thing to dance with." He shrugs, not looking too plussed about his situation.

"I'll dance with you, Wolfie," you jump to offer. "Ice is being boring anyway."

Ice frowns. Wolf laughs. "Who am I to say no to a lady?" he asks, pulling you into an off-kilter twirl. "Don't worry, Ice, she's in good hands!" he calls over his shoulder as you practically drag him toward the dancefloor.

What Wolfman lacks in prowess, he makes up for in enthusiasm. By the time Hollywood and his fiancée find the two of you on the dancefloor—not a surprise since 'Wood and Wolf are practically connected at the hip—you're a little breathless from trying to keep up.

It's a good time, but you can only be so distracted, and it's only a matter of time before you begin scanning the crowd. Either you'll find Slider, or he'll find you, but you'll be damned if he doesn't finish what he started.

You know Ice has people he wants to impress and a ladder he's trying to climb, but shouldn't you be at the top of his list? With this thought at the helm, it isn't long before you spot a head of brown curls that towers above the rest. You rock onto your tiptoes to feed Wolf a lie—bathroom—and push through the crowd alone.

Except as you get closer, it becomes glaringly apparent that this tall brunet is not Slider.

You scowl at no one in particular when you come up empty-handed.

As you decide to keep searching until you find Slider—and, ultimately, relief—someone grabs you from behind.

You whirl around, ready to smack the person's hands off of you.

It's Pete.

You smack him anyway.

"Ow!" Pete yelps, more from surprise than pain. You didn't hit him that hard. "What the hell?!"

"Pete Mitchell, who do you think you are grabbing a lady–"

"You're hardly a lady."

"–from behind like that. You almost gave me a heart attack!"

Pete disarms you with a light pinch to your side that has you clamping your arms against your sides to protect against further tickling. "Where're Tweedledee and Tweedledum? Didn't think I'd catch you without one or the other."

You suppress a roll of your eyes. "Who knows."

"Sooo," Pete drawls a bit awkwardly, "does this have anything to do with the weirdness going on between the three of you?"

"Oh my god. You know," you groan, unable to stop yourself from hiding your face in your hands. How embarrassing.

"I don't know-know," Pete's quick to correct, "and I don't want to. But I know something's up."

This isn't something you're delving into with your brother. "It's nothing. Forget it."

"Doesn't seem like nothing if you're avoiding them."

"Like you're avoiding Penny's dad?" you snark back. Deflecting. "I'm surprised you decided to stick around."

"He's old. It's probably past his bedtime," Pete says confidently, a smile tugging at his lips. "The night's mine."

"Whatever will you do with this newfound freedom?" you tease.

Pete gives a half-shrug, surveying the room. "I'm sure some poor officer brought his daughter so she could meet the love of her life."

You don't bother holding in a mocking laugh. "And that's you?"

"No." Pete makes a face. "But I can be her something for the night."

"Ew," you grunt because you so do not want to get into that with your brother. "I need a drink."

A hand catches your elbow as you turn. "Going somewhere?"

You refuse to look as you shake Ice's hand off and continue walking.

"So you're going to ignore me." It's a statement.

"Don't you have other people to talk to?"

Ice reaches for your elbow again, turning you so he can meet your eyes with his own. "I want to talk to you."

"That's my cue," Pete mumbles as he slinks into the crowd, presumably to find trouble.

Neither you nor Ice move, and your stomach roils as his jaw sets, his Adam's apple bobbing. "You're mad at me."

Part of you wants to tell him off. Instead, you shake your head. "I'm not mad. I'm frustrated."

"Okay," Ice says, with a curt nod, his shoulders—which had been bunched—rolling back as he becomes more sure of himself. "I can work with that."

Something about the way he says it rankles you, and you sneer. Earlier, you'd been all aboard hanging off Ice's arm, but now you're wound tight enough to burst, and all you want to do is take a hot bath. And now that he's made you this way, you're something that needs to be dealt with.

"Let's grab some fresh air," Ice says, loud enough to settle any eavesdroppers as he leads you toward the outdoor courtyard with a gentle but commanding grasp on your elbow.

But you pass by the turn for the courtyard.

"Where are you taking me?" The smell of cigar smoke thins as you walk along less-traveled hallways.

"I'm taking care of it," he says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world and continues to drag you after him.

Venturing further from the intended party spaces, the lights dim. You doubt the venue means for you to be down here.

Instead of voicing these thoughts, you scoff. "Helpful."

Making sure you're alone, Ice pulls you down a deserted hallway. "You're frustrated. I have people to talk to," he says slowly, sparing you a glance.

You frown. There goes Ice, talking about other people. Again.

He beelines for two unassuming doors, reaching out to the first, but its handle jiggles. Catches. Locked.

"I'm taking care of it."

Before you can challenge that assertion, Ice steps to the side and grabs the handle to the second door, marked STAFF ONLY.

It clicks.

Ice pushes you inside, following close behind.

The light coming through the foot of the door isn't enough to tell you where you are. But the clinical, electric-orange antiseptic smell of cleaning supplies invading your nose, singeing the hairs, is more than enough to give it away.

When you cross your arms over your chest, something falls to the ground with a wooden clack! "By dragging me into a janitor's closet?"

"Well, you said you'd be good for me, but that didn't last long."

You reach for where the handle must be, but Ice anticipates your moodiness and moves to intercept, deflecting your hand. "But the bet was that Slider couldn't get you off." His breath fans your face as he leans in, so you tilt your head away to avoid his lips. Stubborn. Undeterred, he kisses the long line of your neck, and the ghost of soft lips has you holding back a gasp. "So I'm taking care of it."

"What if it doesn't want to be taken care of?"

Sharp teeth are a shock beneath the hinge of your jaw. "Don't be a brat."

A strangled moan trips past your lips as he catches you off guard.

You don't have to see Ice to know he's smirking. "Noted." Then his hand is cupping your breast. "So, are you going to let me take care of you or not?"

You're not proud of how quickly you crumble, but it's like a switch flips. You hope Ice is okay with the whiplash because after an entire night of teasing, you're desperate for relief. "Please," you whimper, pushing yourself further into his orbit. You want so bad it hurts.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I've got you." Ice captures your lips in a heated kiss—nipping at your bottom lip so you hiss and open up for him. He knows what you need, and he's (apparently) going to give it to you.

Your fingers, clumsy in their haste, scramble for Ice's belt, but he brushes them aside. "This is about you. I'll get mine later," he says, tilting your head to the side so he can track wet kisses up to the spot just below your ear, electricity sparking down your spine as teeth tug at the lobe. "When I lay you out on my bed."

A high-pitched, excited moan is your answer, interrupted by Ice's fingers over your lips. "You've gotta be quiet," he purrs, voice low in your ear. "Wouldn't want anyone to hear us."

"Then kiss me." He does. And as you breathe in deep, the whole situation makes you feel like you're back in high school: shelving digging into your lower back like you're sneaking around, trading uncoordinated kisses in the janitor's closet with David Hodges until your brother finds you and rips poor David away for an ass-beating. But infinitely better.

Ice's lips are familiar. Urgent and addictive against your own as he swallows your whimper—nothing like David.

Ice pinches your fat bottom lip between his teeth before releasing it with a slick smack. You suck in a sharp breath, lashes fluttering open to look up at the shadow of him in the dark. "So pretty," he growls, fabric rustling as he hastily cuffs the sleeve of his jacket and pushes it up to his elbow to keep it safe from what he has planned.

Handfuls of velvet are bunched around your waist so you can spread your legs more freely, and Ice can slot his hand between them.

Threading your fingers through his hair, you return his lips to yours. You both groan from the kiss—you from the relief of his hands on you, the promise of a sweet release; him from how wet and needy you are (Slider's work, really, but Ice seems keen to reap the benefits).

When you break apart to gasp for air, Ice husks, "I'd get my mouth on you." And it conjures the image of Slider's wicked brown eyes looking up at you from between your legs, your cunt throbs. God, you want that. "Too bad I can't smell like pussy while I'm talking to the brass." But he allows himself the indulgence of a single taste, bringing fingers slick with your arousal to his lips.

You shake your head, unsure if his eyes have adjusted enough to see you. "Unprofessional," you agree, dizzy as his fingers plunge back into your heat. The heel of his palm grinds deliciously against your clit, his fingers working with the frantic cant of your hips as you chase a high that's walking the line of pain in its evasion of you. A steady, unignorable ache.

Ice drags his nails over the dense fabric covering your tits, your nipples pebbling at the faux cool sensation. "Tell me what you need," he whispers against your lips.

Relief is so close the air is thick with it. It tastes like Lysol. You stutter out a breath, and it morphs into a quiet whine. "Just like that," you mewl. "Keep touching me like that."

"Yeah?" Ice teases, a third finger sneaking into you and zeroing in on your sweet spot, thumb coming up to rub circles into your clit. What little light there is in the closet glints off the sharp point of his teeth as his lips part. "You're going to cum on my fingers," he declares, and your heart skips a beat when it jumps into your throat. "Then, you're going to go back to being my good, pretty girlfriend while I talk business," he presses a teasing kiss to the corner of your lips, and you can't contain a needy, lilting whine, "and no one will know you needed to cum on my fingers just to make it through the night."

"Oh god," you sob, nails digging into the starched fabric of Ice's jacket. You're right there. Liquid flames lick at your core, your tummy tied in knots and thighs jumpy as Ice speeds up his fingers, a muffled squelch each time his fingers bottom out, knuckles pressed tight to your cunt.

The two of you are so distracted that you don't hear the frantic footsteps until they're almost on top of you.

Ice jerks his fingers from you, yanking your dress back into place at the same time as he steps between you and the door to the closet, blocking you from whoever's about to fling the door open.

But it doesn't stop your eyes from meeting your brother's over his shoulder.

Pete slams the door shut.

Silence. Then: "You still dressed?"

Posture going rigid, Ice shoots the door a barbed look. "Maverick–" Pete shushes him through the door. He must be pressed up against the wood. Ice gives in but doesn't give up, continuing with a more hushed, "–what the hell?"

A pause. "That's not a no," your brother mulls. "Scoot over. I'm coming in."

"No!" You and Ice hiss simultaneously, but Pete is already squeezing himself into the closet with the two of you, pressed tight against Ice's back as he shuts the door firmly but with as much care as he gives his Kawasaki.

"Look," Pete whispers, and maybe his hands would be up in a placating manner if there were enough room, "I either hide in here with you two or hack it out there with Admiral Benjamin."

Without the distraction of each other, you and Ice hear far more measured footsteps hesitate at the far end of the hall before heading in your direction.

"I like your chances," Ice bites. "Leave."

Pete jostles all three of you as he turns to get into Ice's face as much as he can, given the confines of the closet. A shelf creaks, but nothing falls. "Well, it won't look good on you either," he whispers furiously. "Huh? Ice-cold, no mistakes, making out with your date in a closet like you're at junior pr–" Ice slaps a hand over his mouth, and the three of you fall deathly still.

The tension thickens until the footsteps pass you by.

No one dares to let out a quiet, adrenaline-shaken breath, even when the footsteps sound like they must have reached the other end of the hallway. Pete does, however, allow his shoulders to sag in relief.

Then, the footsteps pause.

They grow closer—louder—once more. This time, the muffled chaf of dress shoes on the carpet sounds like it's purposefully approaching the closet. Each step ratchets the tension up exponentially. You hold still, certain that if you shift your weight, something on the open shelving will give away your location. Ice, still shielding you from the door, brings a hand up to pet the back of your neck; the cool metal of his Academy ring—grounding any other time—sends a nervous trickle down your spine.

Benjamin is obviously after Pete, but how bad will it look that the two of you are in the closet with him?

There's a mechanical squeal of metal catching, handle turning, getting stuck. Jiggle. A grunt as he encounters the locking mechanism of the next door over.

Two shadows block the ambient light at the bottom of the door.

Well, you pinch your eyes closed. This will be embarrassing.

"Admiral Benjamin," someone calls from further away.

"Ah," the response comes uncomfortably close to your door. "Lieutenant…?"

"Kerner, sir." Slider. "I was with Lieutenant Kazansky earlier. Did you ever find Mitchell?

Two quick raps on the door. Pete flinches. "I believe I have." And Admiral Benjamin sounds smug.

The statement hangs in the air.

"In a closet, sir?" You can see the skeptical raise of Slider's brow in your mind's eye.

The shadow shifts. "I'm sure he came this way."

"Well, I just saw his RIO headed toward the taxis." A pause. "He's a slippery little shit. If he was here, he's long gone by now."

"Hm." Admiral Benjamin doesn't move, but from the sound of things, neither does Slider. "Well, Lieutenant. Really good stuff on the Enterprise."

Slider thanks him as the shadows disappear from the doorway and footsteps hurry off on a Goose chase.

When you're sure the admiral has left the vicinity—thankfully not asking Slider why he decided to stick around—Pete stumbles out of the closet with all the grace of a baby giraffe but none of the height. "Aw, Kerner," he teases with a dopey grin, "you do like me."

Slider snorts. "Don't thank me yet. The Geese are waiting for a taxi."

Pete's chin falls to his chest, and he mumbles a "goddammit" before hurrying to see if he can avoid Admiral Benjamin by sneaking through the courtyard.

"They're not the only ones," Slider tells Ice, nodding in the general direction of what remains of the Ball's attendees. "If you want to talk to anyone else, now's the time."

But as you practically tremble between them, Ice looks at you—really looks at you—and his features soften. He cups your shoulder, offering but not pulling you into his side. "I think I've networked enough for one night," he declares, tone light. His thumb rubbing back and forth, soothing.

Then those gray-blue eyes are on you, and his lips stretch into a slow, soft smile. "No one I can't talk with some other time."

"You sure?" Slider asks. Then, hushed, "I can take care of her while you finish up."

There is quite literally nothing you want less. The venue is clearly cursed, and you don't plan on sticking around long enough to find out what other ways you can get caught or edged tonight. 

"The bet's off," Ice states before you can say 'no,' and your heart flutters. If Ice wasn't going to stick around for one last round of shoulder-rubbing, then winning was only a matter of getting you in a taxi.

For his part, Slider doesn't seem as shocked as you are by Ice's declaration.

Ice feathers a kiss to your temple before you can second-guess his decision. It's the most relaxed you've seen him all evening. "Let's get you a taxi."

"Wait." Slider pushes off the wall. He procures a key from his pocket and presses it into Ice's hand. "Holiday Inn. K Street. Leave in 10 minutes."

Ice fiddles with the thick plastic of the keychain but pays it no real mind.

"Don't give me that look," Slider boos.

Ice licks his lips. "You know our rooms were comped, right?" It's a perk of being summoned to the event, you're sure.

Slider takes a half step forward, the three of you the closest you've been all night. From this distance, Ice has to look up ever so slightly to meet Slider's cocky gaze. "You want to what?" he asks, voice going deep and quiet enough no one else could hear if they happened by you. "Pile into a single room at the same hotel everyone else is staying at?" He motions between the three of you. "How's that going to work?"

Some like to write Slider off as all muscle, no brain. But it's his job to see things others don't—things Ice doesn't. He knew they couldn't take you back to their fancy hotel rooms even before he came to the event tonight. The safest solution had been to shell out for a lesser room somewhere you were less likely to turn heads.

"She isn't exactly known for being quiet," Sli stresses.

Ice ponders the key for long seconds before he pockets it with a nod.

Slider smirks. "That's what I thought."

[imawkwardlysoc]

champagne and sunshine

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

Song- champagne and sunshine by plvtinum ft. tarro

Pairing- ron 'slider' kerner x female! reader

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

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

Wordcount- 1,473

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you,” Goose thanked Y/N.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How am I?” He questioned.

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

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

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

“As you say,” Slider winked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you ready?” Slider asked.

“Yes, please!” Y/N screamed out.

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

“Ron,” Y/N moaned. “I’m about-”

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

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

“Fuck, that was,” Y/N panted.

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

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

*The Day After at the Party*

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

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

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

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

“How did you know?” Y/N blushed.

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

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

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

“Oh yeah.”

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

“He’s gone isn’t he?” Wolfman asked.

“Yep,” everyone answered at the same time.

[callsigndragon]

The Christmas Date | Chapter 11: Christmas makes me cry

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

(Ron Kerner is Slider, Iceman’s backseater)

Wordcount: 2.3k

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

(there won’t be smut in this series)

Warnings: maJOR ANGST. Thena has a panic attack. anxiety. you know the deal. major fluff to compensate at the end. partial nudity (there's underwear on in the characters involved so don't worry)

A/N: Okay so this came to me randomly a few hours ago and i just...had to write it. This episode was supposed to be completely different but my heart wasn't having it so I changed it. Pros: Solo won't be doing anything more to thena (you're welcome). Cons: you're not gonna get rid of the other part of the angst that's is coming in the next chapters. FINAL ANGST I SWEAR. maybe.ALSO this chapter is a bit weird, you'll notice a song in the middle of the text, IF YOU CAN LISTEN TO IT WHILE READING THAT PART. You'll thank me later.

Taglist: @ducks118 @milestellerwife @craftymoonchaos @littlebadariell   @xoxabs88xox  @alexxavicry @tayrae515 @shrimping-for-all  @mak-32 @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @harper1666 @purplevortexx @abaker74 @ssprayberrythings @melllinaa @loveless-simp  @k-k0129 @mygyn @castle-bookworms-world @chaoticversion @one-sweet-gubler @loveforaugust

@taytaylala12 @benhardysdrumstick @green-intervention @waatermelon-sugaar @smells-like-perfect-senses @interstellarloneliness @tay-bluey @diggorycullen @dhwanishah09 @inky-sun @luckyladycreator2 @nograce-nomercy @witchybabel

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His lips wake you up, as if he were a prince wanting to rescue his princess from an eternal slumber. 

“Not now, I want to sleep more,” you whine, pulling up the covers and hiding underneath them. 

“I woke up early and went to get you some nice French toast from that place you like. I got you one of those fancy coffees with unpronounceable names and arranged it all in front of the fireplace, where my dad’s Polaroid album is waiting. You’re getting out of bed now, please?”  

Oh, shit. The album! You kick the covers away from you, hugging Rooster and covering his face in kisses. His giggles make you smile. “Morning, handsome nugget.” 

“Morning, beautiful grouchy.” 

You move back a bit to look in his eyes, sighing at what you see in them: pure love and adoration. “Why did you go all the way out for me?” 

“First of all, you deserve it, so shut up. Second,” he sighs, getting up from the bed, “I wanted to make this morning a bit easier for you before going to the station to report… the monster.” 

You swallow, looking at the floor. “I’m not gonna report him” 

“What?” 

“We’re leaving in two days, I don’t think it’s necessary. We won’t see him again after this” you shrug. 

“Sweetheart, this is not how things work. You know it.” He kneels in front of you, opening his hands and waiting for you to grab them. You don’t.

“I-I know but I can’t go to the station and talk about it. I’m doing my best to block those memories, but they’re so recent, a-and I…” Someone knocks at the door and you begin to tremble, tears welling up in your eyes. 

Are the walls moving closer? Why does it look like the room is getting smaller? You can’t breathe. Run. You can’t. You can’t move. 

“Oh no, no, no. Grouchy, look at me.” 

You can’t. Your eyes are closed, protecting you from the outside world and the white, menacing walls that keep getting closer and closer as if trying to crush you between them. 

“Thena. Thena, please. Look at me. Only at me.” 

Someone is touching you. The monster has finally gotten what he wanted. He’s carrying you around, maybe looking for a bed to lay you down. You need to get out of his arms. You hit him everywhere you can, but it’s not working. He’s stronger than you. 

The soft knock is now an insistent banging against the wooden door. Erratic and incessant sounds that echo in your ears. Is he here again? Has he come to finish what he couldn’t yesterday? 

Make it stop.

Make it stop. 

Make. 

It. 

Stop. 

Rooster looks at the trembling girl in front of him, not knowing exactly what to do. He can’t touch her, not like this. He can’t get consent from Thena, he’s not going to touch her. But if he can’t ground her back to reality soon, she’s going to get worse. 

I’m sorry, Y/n. I’m sorry for this.

Rooster carries her to the bathroom, bridal style. She screams, hits him, and tries to escape, too immersed in her own nightmare to realize that the monster is not there. The person knocking on the door is becoming impatient. Probably Slider, worried about her daughter’s screams. Rooster can’t open the door now. He needs to take care of Thena first. 

The world can wait five fucking minutes. 

He goes straight to the shower, opening the faucet and standing in the freezing water with Thena in his arms. He doesn’t know if this is going to work, but it does for him when he has panic attacks. He’s getting soaked, but it doesn’t matter. She matters. His star is agonizing, and he needs to bring her back. 

The bedroom door bursts open, and Thena screams, tossing around in his arms and crying even more. Slider walks in the bathroom with a worried expression, followed by Iceman and Mav. 

“What the fuck is happening?” he asks with a mixture of anger and fear. 

“At this point, I think she’s hallucinating.” Rooster responds, his voice breaking down at the thought of Thena going through something he can’t help her with. “It’s Becca here?” 

She appears from behind his father, tears in her eyes. “I’m here” 

“I need you to come here and talk to her. Maybe hearing a female voice would calm her down.” 

Becca nods, stepping into the tiny shower and talking with her in that motherly tone she always uses with Jesse. Oh, Jesse. Rooster hopes he’s not seeing this. Nobody should see Thena like this. But poor Jesse might be so scared if he saw her favorite auntie in such a state. 

“Hey, sweetheart. It’s me, Becca. You’re here with me. You’re safe. Listen to my voice, please. You’re safe.” 

Becca keeps talking with her for a few minutes, with Thena’s body slowly relaxing between his arms and her eyes, which have been closed the entire time, opening slowly. She looks around, confusion spreading over her face. The trembling doesn’t stop, however. 

“Grouchy, can you hear me?” 

“N-nugget?” she mumbles, her voice hoarse for all the screaming. 

“Yes, my love, it’s nugget. I’m gonna ask you a few questions, okay? Answer if you can," she nods slowly, and Rooster employs a technique taught to him by his therapist years ago. “Tell me five things you see” 

She doesn’t move her gaze from him, as if she were scared that if she looked around, she would see the monster’s face in front of her. “You. Your scars. Y-your stache. Your wet hair. The faucet” 

“Now, four things you can feel” 

“My wet clothes. The water on my skin. Your body is trembling… are you cold?” 

“Focus now, fly girl. One more” 

“My feet on the ground” 

He nods; she's returning slowly but safely. “Three things you can hear”

“Your voice, your breathing, water running” 

Her breath slows down to a normal rhythm.

“Two things you can smell” 

“You. And soap” he looks at one of the shampoo bottles Thena had kicked when he got her in the shower, now opened and oozing. 

“One thing you can taste” 

She stops shaking. 

“Nothing. I didn’t have breakfast. Oh god, Rooster…” 

"There you are," Rooster exhales, relieved. “Please don’t go to places where I can’t follow you.” 

She hugs him harder than she's ever done before. Becca turns off the faucet, being careful not to touch Thena by accident, and steps out of the shower, getting wrapped in a towel by her dad. 

“I’m sorry,” Thena whispers. 

“Don’t. You have nothing to apologize for. Let’s take you out of these cold clothes. I’ll run you a bath and wait for you downstairs with a warm cup of chocolate.” Rooster offers, knowing that if he doesn’t warm Thena’s body, she will get a cold. 

“Don’t leave me,” she pleads. 

“Never” 

“Once you two are ready,” Becca says, talking for all, “we would like to know as much as you can tell us of what has happened here” 

Rooster looks at Thena, she looks at the ground, considering her choices, and then nods slowly. “He’ll tell you. I can’t think or hear about it. Not yet” 

The family nods, slowly leaving the bathroom and the room. “I don’t know if I can be alone with my thoughts in a bath…” 

“I can keep my underwear on and join you,” he offers. 

She nods, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply. “He broke me, Roos.” 

“You’re not broken.” 

She opens her mouth to say something else but closes it quickly, as if she wasn't sure how to express her thoughts. “I’m cold” 

“I’ll get the bath started.” 

You look at Rooster getting inside the tub, leaning against the white end. You take off your clothes, you’re only wearing Rooster’s hoodie that he gave you last night, black yoga shorts, and your underwear. You’re not ready to take off your underwear yet. “Can I keep this?” you ask him, signaling to the mismatched bra and panties you’re wearing. 

“Sweetheart, you’re the one that decides, not me.” 

You nod slowly, getting closer to the tub. “This may sound contradictory because ten minutes ago I was trying to escape from your arms, but... can I sit with you?” 

“You mean, your back on my chest?” 

“If it’s okay,” you insist, asking for permission. 

He doesn’t answer, just opens his arms as a nonverbal confirmation. You smile a bit, getting inside and sitting in the middle of the tub, leaning slowly against Rooster’s body. You don’t really understand how, but he’s the only touch you can tolerate right now. Whenever he isn’t there, you miss it. Crave it, even. It’s completely illogical. 

The hot water pierces your cold skin, warming it slowly. He moves his arms to rest on each side of the tub, avoiding any more contact between you and his body. He doesn’t want you to be overwhelmed. 

“Thank you, Bradley,” you whisper. 

“Don’t need to thank me, little star” 

“Star? That's a new one," you say as you lift your hand from the warm water and grab Rooster's large one. He turns his hand, his palm facing up, and your fingers slowly trace the lines. 

“I said once that you were my Polaris. You’re my little star” 

“What if this star doesn’t shine anymore?” you question with tears in your eyes. 

He kisses your head. “You don’t need to shine to be my star” 

“Do you still want to be with me after all this?” 

And there it is, the question you have been afraid to ask. 

“Y/n look at me” 

You turn around to see his calm and comforting expression. “The only way you’re getting rid of me is when you say you don’t love me anymore” 

“I think I love you more than yesterday,” you admit shyly, his hand moving to caress your cheek. 

“And I think I love you less than tomorrow.” 

Rooster stated that he will inform your family about the monster and everything that happened not only yesterday, but years ago as well. He asked for Ice’s help, because both of you knew that once Slider learns that his best friend hid something so important from him for years, things will get uncomfortable. 

You can’t stand being in a room alone, so he hands you his headphones, looks for a playlist that he has on Spotify named ‘the brightest star’, and presses play. You want to ask him why the playlist is called like that, but you see the family entering the room, and you know that it’s the moment to tune out the world. In your hands, you have Goose’s album. It’s old, and some pages seem to be, quite literally, hanging from a thread. You should get a new album, too. 

You look at all the pictures, finally finding that picture of baby you and a 4-year-old Rooster. He’s wearing his dad's glasses. It is truly a beautiful picture. Maybe you can get a copy and have it in your cockpit. 

Rooster playlist changes from a silly and happy Paramore song to a song you haven’t heard before but it has the most beautiful lyrics. 

Let your arms be a place she feels safe in. 

Wait, what’s this song about? You unlock Rooster’s phone, quickly opening the music app to read the lyrics. 

She always has trouble 

Falling asleep 

And she likes to cuddle 

While under the sheets

She loves Pop songs

And dancing, and bad trash TV

It's as if this song was talking about you. 

Has a hard time accepting 

A good compliment 

She loves her whole family

And all of her friends

It’s this playlist about you? Does he have a special selection of songs that remind him of you? 

So if you’re the one she lets in

Take it

If she gives you her heart

Don’t you break it

Let your arms be a place 

She feels safe in

This might be the most beautiful song you’ve ever heard. And you wish he would sing it to you. He has a beautiful voice. 

She’ll love you 

If you love her 

On days when

It feels like the whole 

World might cave in

Stand side by side 

And you’ll make it

She’s the best thing you’ll ever have

She’ll love you

If you love her like that

When you raise your head to look at Rooster, you notice the room is empty. It looks like he finished his story, and all of them left the room to leave you some space. 

He takes off your headphones. “What are you listening to, grouchy?” He stays silent for a few seconds until he registers the song and smiles. “Oh, is this one?”

“Roos is this-”

“Is the playlist about you? Yes. Absolutely. At first, it only had one song. When I see you smile”

"80s song, how typical of you," you say with a smile. 

“Well, the lyrics fit, don’t you think? Anyway, then I kept hearing songs on the radio that reminded me of you, or had a very deep meaning or… just like this one, it was made for you” 

“If it helps… your arms are the safest place on Earth for me” 

“And when I see you smile, I can face the world,” he admits, leaning close to your face to kiss you. 

“Agh, you’re literally DISGUSTINGLY CUTE,” Nick says, covering his eyes while walking towards the sofa, where his phone is. 

“Get lost,” you both say before closing the distance and kissing each other with so much love you feel goosebumps on your skin and tears in your eyes. 

Feeling loved has to be the best feeling in the world.

A/N: Anyone interested in hearing the playlist? Is small but cute, i swear. I'll leave it here.

[whiskeyswriting]

Chaos Crew’s Fanfics:

💛These are friends fanfics with Original Characters they created and wrote for.💛

���Please reblog if you liked the fics to support your creators!🚨

I would just like to say that I am not a member of the squad, but they have written fics for me and all of these amazing women have been so encouraging and supportive of my own writings!

🐉(written by Dragon)

🥃(written by Whiskey)

🍀(written by Lucky)

🌶️(written by Spicy)

👓(written by Me {Birdie})

Dragon ( @dragon-kazansky ):

Favorite Pilot 🍀 (+child! Bradley)

For You, I’d Do Anything 👓 (+ Slider x Whiskey)

Whiskey / Cinco ( @mrsjaderogers ):

Are We Worth Fighting For? 🥃 (Whiskey)

Break On Me 🥃 (Cinco)

Chocolates & Heating Pads 🥃 (Whiskey)

Cut You Off 🥃 (Cinco)

Dress 🥃 (Cinco)

Fat Funny Friend 🥃 (Cinco)

How They Met: Hangman 🥃 (Cinco)

How They Met: Slider 🥃 (Whiskey)

How To Be A Heartbreaker: 1 2 3&4 🥃 (Whiskey)

To Have & To Hold 👓 (+Ice x Dragon {Whiskey})

The Reveal 🥃 (Cinco)

Show Me The Meaning Of Lonely 🥃 (Cinco)

Your Daughter 1 2 🥃 (Whiskey)

Lucky ( @bayisdying ):

Behind A Screen 🍀

Bruised Knuckles 🍀

Lucky Penny 🍀

To Dad, From Lucky 🍀

How They Met…Kinda 🍀

Spicy ( @gracespicybradshaw ):

Blast From The Past 🌶️

Once Upon A Bradbaby 🌶️

Birdie / High Roller ( @callmemana {me}):

Deeper Than The Holler 👓 (High Roller)

Take A Chance On Me 🥃 (High Roller)

[babygirllinds]

The smut is up!!! Have at it, y’all 🫡

"Why not the both of us?" Ice asks quietly like he's trying to hide his words from the other people in the bar. "We're both willing if you are."

Maverick has that same uneasy look back on his face that he had earlier before they entered the bar as he looks at them. It's not conventional for an omega to spend a heat with two alphas, but he wants more than anything at this moment to say yes to them.

Slider leans across the table, deepening his voice for the next words that spill out, "Come on, shortstack, can you really tell me you've never thought of taking two alpha knots in that tight little hole of yours?"

Maverick makes a choking sound and he knows he's caught by the way Slider smirks knowingly.

OR

Ice and Slider are good bros who just want Maverick to not be in pain during his heat... they also might have feelings for him and their help isn't entirely selfless.

•

Rating: Explicit

Fandom: Top Gun

Pairing: Tom "Iceman" Kazansky/Ron "Slider" Kerner/Pete "Maverick" Mitchell

Warnings: None

Chapters: 2/2

Words: 10,964