Sophia moaned as Andy slid his fingers into her soaking wet pussy.
"Andy!" Sophia moaned as he worked his finger into her while kissing and biting on her breast.
"So pretty for me kitten. You look so good like this. all spread out on my bed and handcuffed so that you can't go anywhere. You just have to take it don't you, baby girl." Andy growled into her ear, making her whine.
Andy grinned and began to suck hickies down Sophia's body making her squirm. Sophia groaned in frustration as Andy avoided the one spot she needed his gorgeous mouth on the most.
"Andyy! Sophia whined, trying to bury her face in her elbow.
"No no Kitten, don't you hide from me. Be a good girl and let me see your lovely face." Andy said reaching up and tugging on Sophia's chin.
"Andy.." Sophia groaned.
"What do you need kitten? Be a good girl and use your words." Andy said running his tongue along the hollow of her throat.
"Fuck me, or Kiss me." Sophia gasped as Andy pushed his fingers deeper.
"Good Girl." Andy whispered, pulling his fingers out and moving to slide his cock into her silky wet heat. Sophia moaned as he pushed into filling her up. Andy held still for a few seconds before he began to rock his hips into her. Slow at first and then gaining speed the more she moaned underneath him.
"Andy choke me!" she moaned as she arched up.
"Say please baby girl." Andy murmured against her jaw.
"Please Choke me, sir!" Sophia gasped as Andy adjusted and pushed deeper.
"Good girl!" Andy said grinning as he shifted his weight to one hand and placed the other around Sophia's neck squeezing lightly.
"Anfy baby don't tease!" Sophia moaned trying to rock herself down on his cock.
"As you wish kitten," Andy said giving a devilish grin before tightening his grip on her throat, earning a choked moan. Sophia groaned as her climax hit her barely hearing the words Andy was whispering to her.
"Good girl."
"That's it baby."
"So good for me." Andy moaned as he came inside of her.
Benoit Blanc really is the most guy ever. He’s a world famous detective. He’s played by a British man but has a fake country accent. He dresses like a cartoon character and smokes cigars. He hates mystery games because he sucks at them. He plays video games with his friends in the bath over discord. He has a soft spot pathetic, righteous, panicky women. He makes up words on the fly. He’s gay. He hates rich people.
I am sobbing because of how amazing this came out. It's perfect and exactly fits how I imagine the scene it's based on in my fanfiction Proud as looking.
Thank you so much for this wonderful piece that can be shared with the fandom <3
Pairing: Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky x Female!Reader (18+)
Description: After being promoted to admiral, Tom 'Iceman' Kazansky has little to no time to do anything but work. Constantly stressed out and exhausted, you decide to give your husband something to cheer him up at work. Being afraid of being caught at any time but needing it more than ever, who is he to say no?
Warnings: Descriptive oral sex (m!receiving), explicit language, allusions to smut, slight exhibitionism, risk of getting caught, allusions to oral sex (f!receiving), MAVERICK CAMEO, reader trying Iceman, Iceman trying not to have a heart attack.
Word Count: 3,638.
A/N: Tom Cruise reference in the name because that man is attached to me by the HIP. ALSOOOO, this is my first time writing proper smut, so excuse anything that may seem shitty! Love youuuu!!! <3
Requests are temporarily closed!
Hearing the clearance to enter the office, you turned the doorknob with your free hand and slipped your way in, closing the door behind you with your foot.
“Is this part of your promotion? Forgetting your lunch almost everyday?” You teased your husband in a light tone, setting the articulately packaged containers on the corner of his desk.
Iceman, seconds away from drowning in the paperwork that cluttered his hardwood desk, forced a small grin on his face as a response to the remark that he was already forgetting. Though he was already two months into his promotion, each and every passing second carried a heavier workload than the last. He was always a man who was taken incredibly seriously, but at that moment in time, he was trying his damnedest to prove himself to be more.
After his promotion, Iceman felt as though the playful part of his youth no longer existed. Doing so much as referring to himself as his callsign made him feel as though he was disrespecting his new rank. From that moment on, he was Admiral Kazansky. He felt as though he desperately had to prove himself to both his inferiors and superiors, and in doing so, every second of his free time was lost.
Unfortunately, you were reaping the consequences of such a thing.
Each and every morning, he was gone before your eyes would even open. His vacant spot would no longer hold the inviting warmth that he had, thus proving just how long he had been gone. On a good night, he would come home around an hour later than he usually would. On his worst nights, he would come home while you were getting ready for bed. You initially wanted to be angry and berate him for such a thing, but something kept you from doing so. Your fury was defeated by the dark circles forming under his eyes, the exhaustion in his sultry, smooth voice, and the way his eyelids refused to stay up the second he sat down. Several nights in a row, you would find him fast asleep in his beloved chair in the living room with the television still on. The third time around, the laces on his boots were still tied as perfectly as they were when he left. The sight of it completely broke your heart.
Ever since then, you had been continuously begging the man to slow down. You begged him to breathe, to relax, to just— be. Of course, that was to absolutely no prevail. You knew your husband, and you knew he had to be the best at what he did. He would stop at nothing if it meant he was as respected as an admiral should be, but more importantly, he would make sure to deserve such respect.
Seeing the man you love adorned in stress was nothing short of horrible, yes, but fuck.
If that was not the sexiest thing you had ever seen in your entire life, you had no idea what was. Even at the current moment, you could not stop yourself from gawking. Scanning his face with your eyes for what must have been the millionth time, your heart began to race like it was the first.
The creases that formed as a result of his furrowed eyebrows caused you to tilt your head, completely disregarding the fact that you were outwardly admiring him. Your fingers longed to smooth them out for him, just as you always did. Such an action was typically followed by him letting his eyelids fall shut as the tension in his body smoothly dissolved. Ironically enough, Iceman would melt.
Your mouth watered in a way you could not even prevent if you tried; such an action completely went over his head. His look of concentration only intensified as he wrote. Your head was completely spinning in circles for the brief moment that your eyes were locked on your husband, but it was still long enough for you to figure out just what you wanted to do.
On nights when he would come home on time, you watched the man slowly rid himself of the uniform he wore to his demanding job, but he could never rid himself of the stress that came with it. His body was constantly adorned with it. He wore the agonizing repercussions of a man in his position like the most honorable badge, and quite frankly, you had enough of it.
Not for you, but for him.
Small, calculated steps were taken on your behalf; his concentrated stare was still fixated on the documents before him. You heard the soles of your shoes hit the ground beneath you in a way that felt crushing, but to him, it was just white noise.
Finally, standing behind him, your hands found their way to his shoulders. Even from the slightest touch, Iceman was already letting out a low, quiet exhale of relief. You could feel the tension in his muscles slowly decreasing as you pushed the tips of your fingers further into them, beginning to move them in a circular motion.
It took everything in the man not to completely drop his pen. Iceman’s eyelids dropped the exact way you knew they would, his head falling forward for a moment. One of your hands continued to work as the other stopped for a moment, his hand finding it the second it did. He held your hand in his right one on one of his shoulders and turned his head to face it, his excruciatingly soft lips pressing a kiss to your knuckle.
“Thank you, sweetheart.” The words fell from his lips in a raspy way, his voice cutting through the slightly chilly air like a hot knife through butter. You hoped that you could suppress the need to alleviate his stress, but after hearing the way you soothed him by just rubbing his shoulders, you couldn’t help but wonder what just a little more would do.
You rubbed circles into his shoulders in a way that you hoped would satisfy him. Each and every long, deep exhale that left his nostrils filled your pride in a way that even the most intricate compliment could not. Your heart began to both crack and melt as your mind shifted, causing you to begin to think about just how much the man deserved it. He had been physically and mentally torturing himself ever since he got promoted. The one minute you had been rubbing his back was probably the only moment of pure solitude that he had been granted in the past month.
That was all the motivation you needed to both reward the man for his incredibly hard work and remind him that he did not need to take everything so seriously. There was much more to life than professional success, both good and bad. You wanted to take a moment to remind him of the good.
Your fingers halted after the thought finalized in your mind, but Iceman thought nothing of it. He just figured you were going to be right on your merry way, and he had to get back to work. He picked up his pen once more as your eyes scanned around the beautiful office, your eyes landing on a picture of the pair of you resting on his desk just a moment later.
The blinds on all of the windows looking into his office were shut. The front of his desk made it impossible for anyone to see what was underneath. The fact that he had quite a bit of legroom underneath the desk was enough of a push.
Without even thinking, you slightly pulled his chair back, such an action being made easy by the wheels at the bottom. His face twisted in confusion as he looked over to you, the pen still in his hand. Neither of you had time to think before you were dropping to your knees right in front of him, your hands immediately beginning to fumble with the belt on his uniform.
“Are you insane?” He whispered to you in a hushed tone, his face mirroring that of a deer in headlights. Despite his evident shock, his eyes only followed you as you continued to very slightly rid him of his pants. He made no attempt to stop you.
Noticing that fact, you met his eyes with your own, your eyebrows slightly raising. “Do you want me to stop?”
You knew he didn’t. He knew he didn’t. By asking that very simple, yet very significant question, though, the ball rolled right into your court. You obtained the power in that situation, as opposed to how roles were typically assigned in that manner. He was yours for the taking, and both of you were just fine with that.
Within seconds, he was exposed to you. If anyone were to stand in the doorway, all they would see is the upper half of one Admiral Kazansky, probably as cool and collected as ever. The expression on his face, however, showed something different.
His green eyes were full of bewilderment as your eyes landed on his already semi-hard length, your heart racing as if this wasn’t just the millionth time you were going to blow your husband. Regardless of such, this time was supposed to be special. You had a goal in mind, and you would stop at absolutely nothing to achieve it. Perhaps that was one of the many things you and Tom had in common.
Your eyes flickered upward to gaze at him, the certainty and sheer lust in your eyes perfectly contrasting with the shock in his. The second you wrapped your fingers around his length by the base of it and moved your hand upward just once, the pen fell from his grip. You wasted no time in adjusting your head slightly and wrapping your lips around the tip, your eyes searching for his as you did so.
Iceman furrowed his eyebrows just as he usually did, but it was very evidently not out of frustration. His plump lips parted slightly as he felt your tongue lick a stripe along the tip of his cock, and his larger hand found solace on the top of your head, resisting the urge to just fuck your throat then and there.
The fear of being caught infiltrated his blood like a virus, but absolutely nothing was going to make him pull away from you. Especially with the way the very tip of your tongue flicked over the slit of his cock so briefly, causing him to suppress the most obscene groan.
At that point, all bets were off. He knew what you were doing, and he knew it very well. If you wanted to relieve him of the stress he carried, he was going to allow you to do just that. As a matter of fact, he was going to help you.
Your lips were fully wrapped around his tip as both of his hands moved to push a bit of your hair out of your face, being sure to hold it all behind your head with just one of them. The second he did so, you knew to remove your hand from his base. You knew exactly what he wanted to do, and you were going to let him.
Once your hand moved, Iceman wasted no time in bucking his hips upward, only part of his length fully filling your mouth and threatening to go down your throat. Due to being slightly caught by surprise, you let out the sound of a small gag against it, but still got ahold of yourself quite quickly. The sound only fueled the man much more.
“Try to be quiet, sweetheart.” His low voice filled your ears in a way that caused a small fire to burn in the pit of your stomach, his eyes essentially blazing into yours. “You wouldn’t want us to get caught, would you?”
You knew exactly what to do. Normally, you would respond with noises, but you wanted to toy with him just as much as he was toying with you.
Your hand found its way back to the base of his length as you slowly lifted your mouth off of it, using your hand to lightly and teasingly stroke it as you maintained a calm expression.
“No, Admiral.” You spoke just above a whisper, your lips curling into a shit-eating grin as you watched the darkest lust flash through his eyes. You took the tip in your mouth once more, and instead of beginning to bob your head, you let him do what you knew he wanted.
Your hands gripped the back of his calves as he held your hair in one hand, the other now resting below your jaw. In a way, it was helping you. He held your head in place as he clenched his jaw as tightly as he could, showing no mercy once he thrusted up into your mouth.
Even after years of experience, it still took you a minute to adjust to taking his length. To say that he was big was an understatement. It was more than understandable to know why his ego was the way it was.
You felt inches of him threaten to go deeper and deeper down your throat with each and every thrust, causing muffled gags to be released against his cock each and every time. The vibration he felt from the sound caused him to clear his throat, a vein now making an appearance on his neck.
Just when almost all of him was in your mouth and down your throat, you both heard a slight knock at the door. Immediately, you both froze.
Iceman’s eyes widened as he completely let go of you, but you were too afraid to move.
“Just a minute!” He wasted no time in calling out, frantically looking around his office. He suddenly motioned for you to scoot back underneath his desk, which you wasted no time in pulling back from his erection and doing so.
“Ice, it’s me.” You could hear the voice of Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell say through the door. From your position, you could practically hear your husband rolling his eyes. He pushed his chair inward slightly so as to make it seem he was sitting normally, but still in a way that wouldn’t hit you under the desk.
Getting caught was one thing, but by Maverick? Absolutely not. No fucking way, absolutely not.
After the both of you got settled, Iceman cleared his throat. “Come in.”
The second Maverick came in, your heart stopped. You knew their usual way of greeting one another was by embracing each other in a warm, yet brief hug. Seeing as Iceman’s pants were pulled down to the middle of his thighs, that would not be the best thing.
Luckily, Maverick only sighed and closed the door when he came in, taking a seat in one of the chairs right in front of the desk.
“What do you need, Mav?” Iceman tried to ask as normally as he could. His poker face was absolutely perfect, but he felt like the man in front of him could see right through him.
As Maverick began to inform your husband of the fact that he pissed off another superior, you could feel the tension in his body rising.
“This is the second time this month, Pete. I just got this damn position, and the most progress I’ve made is making sure you don’t get grounded.” Iceman stated in obvious annoyance as his eyebrows furrowed, sitting back in his seat. It was almost as if he forgot you were there.
“I know, I know.” Maverick sighed out in response, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I can’t thank you enough.”
As Maverick continued giving his explanation, a lightbulb went off over your pretty little head. With a small smirk on your face, your hand slowly found its way back to his length. He was still just as hard. If anything, the lack of attention given to his cock was almost making it throb. Immediately, you took the tip back into your mouth.
The very second he felt the contact, Iceman cleared his throat and sat right back up, clenching his jaw.
“You okay, Ice?” Maverick asked in pure confusion as his eyebrows furrowed, staring at the man in front of him, who seemed to be in some sort of pain.
Iceman cleared his throat once more and nodded his head once, trying his best to maintain eye contact as he blinked twice. “Muscle cramp. Please continue.”
Hearing the quick and polite save almost made you giggle, but you still wanted to toy with him. You wasted no time in slightly stroking the bottom half as you began to teasingly bob your head up and down, doing so as silently as you possibly could.
The way his boot would shift every few seconds as a way for him to release some form of reaction kept you going. Once you went down a bit further as a way of testing your own limits, you couldn’t help the small gag that came along with it. Your blood ran cold once you did it, but not even a full second after you did, Iceman let out quite a loud cough.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Pete asked in the middle of his own explanation, confusion more evident on his face than before.
Iceman nodded in response as he gripped your hair underneath the desk, causing you to widen your eyes slightly. The way it caught you off guard piqued your interest.
“Lot of dust in here.” He instantly excused himself.
After a few moments, Maverick was being lectured by the man in front of you, but both you and Maverick knew he would just end it by saying he would help him out. Low and behold, he did.
The second Maverick left his office and closed the door behind him, Iceman pushed his chair back from his desk and glared down at you. All of the rage in his eyes was completely lustful, and his remaining grip on your hair was still thrilling you to no end.
“You’re fucking insane.” He lowly spat under his breath, causing you to fight the urge to just smile at him. “What would have happened if he figured that out? Do you know how fucking bad that would have been?”
His tone was serious, but the look in his eyes said so much more. He parted your lips with his thumb and wasted no time in pushing it into your mouth, completely taking you by surprise. Within a matter of a second, though, you began to slightly run your tongue along his skin. You bobbed your head back and forth in a way that made him feel like you were just sticking your middle finger up at him.
“Fine.” He sharply stated below his own breath, retracting his finger from your mouth and using that hand to grip your jaw. Your mouth was still wide open and your eyes slightly widened in surprise.
“If you want to act like such a dirty little slut, show me what a dirty little slut you are.” He spat his beautifully venomous words at you, just before he aligned the tip of his length with your lips. Without a bit of a warning, he pushed it into your mouth.
You found your position as if it were as easy and natural as riding a bike. He sat back in his chair as he began to bob your head up and down by your jaw and your hair, causing you to quietly gag almost each and every time. For him, you didn’t care. You would have sawed your jaw clean off if he told you to.
His breathing became lighter the faster he did so. After a moment, he stopped so as not to cause any sort of serious strain to your neck, deciding that thrusting upward would be easier for the both of you.
Once he did so, the tip of his cock was hitting the back of your throat almost every second. You only held your mouth open as widely as you could, taking the shortness in his breathing as a sign that he was close.
“Fuck—” You heard the beautiful word shakily slip under his breath, causing you to brace yourself. You squeezed your eyes shut as you felt his load begin to fill your mouth, just knowing the way you were sending him over the edge as you began to swallow.
After a moment of the man trying his best to suppress the groans he wanted to let out as a result of him finishing, he lowly panted under his breath. You lifted your head and shamelessly wiped the side of your mouth, happily standing to your feet once he began to fix his uniform.
“You’re welcome.” You hummed to your husband in such a casual manner, pressing the softest peck to his lips before you turned to your things.
As you gathered your belongings and hooked your purse over your shoulder, you felt a cold hand slightly grip your wrist, causing you to turn back to him.
“Where are you going?” He asked in what seemed to be complete confusion, causing you to furrow your eyebrows and let out a small giggle.
“Home…?” You spoke in a way that came off as more of a question than a statement. The words that he spoke next made you both almost completely implode, and mentally pat yourself on the back for deciding to do what you did.
“No, no way.” He laughed out, shaking his head in disapproval before he stood from his seat, his eyes locking with yours as he did so.
After Iceman’s funeral, Slider was contacted by Ice’s attorney to come into his office, as he had some personal property that Ice had left Slider in his will.
Emotional over the loss of his friend, as well as curious about what he might have left him (his dog tags? No, he would have left those for his family. Money? No, Ice wouldn’t leave him money…) Slider arranged to come into the attorney’s office a couple days later to receive his inheritance from Ice.
After he entered the man’s office, and introduced himself, shook his hand, was told “I’m sorry for your loss”, etc. the attorney handed him a plain white envelope.
Confused, Slider turned the envelope over in his hand. It was standard letter-size, sealed, with no odd bulges indicating anything other than paper was inside. And on the front, written in pen, in Iceman’s handwriting, were the words “For Admiral Ron Kerner.”
So Slider opened the envelope, and pulled out a single piece of folded white paper.
He unfolded the paper, and read…
“Dear Slider,
You get Maverick.
Love,
Ice”
People outside in the hallway all stopped when they heard a sudden, loud yell:
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