#flip Zimmerman x you

[strangunddurm]

Mine

Masterlist

Pairing: Flip Zimmerman x fem!reader

Summary: Flip Zimmerman was a man that liked to eat his cake and have it, too.

Word count: 4.4k

Warnings: PinV sex, unprotected sex, fingering, masturbation, swearing, dirty talk, oral (fem receiving). 

A/N: It's been ages since I wrote something so I'm so proud of myself for finally finishing something.

It was common knowledge that Flip Zimmerman was utterly and completely infatuated with you. You were it for him. The one he would marry, build a house for, have kids with. You would be his end, but you were not his beginning.

It was also common knowledge that Flip Zimmerman was on an apparent path to sleep with everyone he could that wasn’t you. Fuck, finger, and fondle like he wasn’t an officer of the law and he wasn’t in a very public bar at that very moment. You could see his hand run along her leg, caressing it with the pads of his fingers before it disappeared beneath the fabric of her skirt.

She threw her head back, laughing like nobody was watching, but, of course, you were. Your eyes were always lingering on his figure, just as his were yours. He watched you as he traced the lace of her panties, as he dipped them under the fabric; he watched you as he guided her lips to his; he watched you as he shattered your heart, always knowing that the comfort of your arms would always be there to sooth him in the end.

You often found yourself wondering: why? Why weren’t you enough for him at this point? Flip had this ability where he could string you along enough so that you, yourself, would feel guilty thinking of another man. Your possible unwillingness weren’t the reason for Flip’s hesitancy to commit, it was his. The unwilling fool in love with the same person he had always loved. Or perhaps you were the fool? Two fools in love that could never let the other one go.

Your friends often wondered why you subjected yourself to the torture of witnessing his lips upon another’s. You didn’t know how to explain to them that you only existed because of him. However demeaning and desperate it sounded, it was true. Whilst others existed for bettering the world or something other, you were made just to be his.

You thought for a while that you could live without him. That you could break free from his hold and flee from the place where everything reminded you of him but it was impossible. It didn’t make sense, how a man could possess you so entirely with just a whisper of attention. You thought it to be your own fault; a bleeding consequence of hope that wrecked your heart beyond anyone else’s repair. All you could do was wait for him. For you would forever be missing him otherwise, regretting not taking the possibility of even the tiniest something.

So, you found yourself there, putting on a front of indifference as you tried not to watch every stupid move Flip made in the arms of another. She was smug. It was so obvious from the way her eyes would flicker over to you every now and then as his lips caressed her shoulder or her neck.

She knew of Flip’s fondness for you, having seen the way he had given you a sliver of attention by the bar, letting his hand ghost over your hip before she had successfully lured him away from you and into her arms.

You were zoned out, barely hearing your friends’ voices as you stared hard at them. Your lip was near bloody from your nervous chewing as you, almost ritualistically, dragged your teeth over it again and again.

“How long are you going to keep doing this to yourself?” The words were spoken in your ear, your best friends arm coming to wrap around you, pulling you into her embrace.

“I…” She didn’t allow you to continue on the miserable spiel that she had heard so many times before.

“I don’t want to hear it. Not again. You need to realise that you’re worth more than whatever the hell this whole thing is,” She pleaded, pressing a kiss against your temple. “You have to stop doing this to yourself.”

“I don’t know if I can,” you sounded so fragile at that moment. Your voice wavered at the end, fading out as everything you felt became almost too much.

“Yes, you can. You just need to realise that you don’t owe him anything. Sitting here completely miserable isn’t going to make him change or do anything different.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I’ve been here with you! Every night we go out to have fun, he comes along and ruins it.”

“No, he doesn’t.” You turned to look at her as you forced the words out harshly. But the look in her eyes made the feigned anger falter.

“I love you. You deserve more. Try to enjoy your life before you realise it’s too late,” She said, squeezing your shoulder.

Did you really deserve more? You had been caught up in the web of Flip for so long that you truly did believe that staying completely devoted to him was the only way forward. You knew he would eventually tire and stop indulging himself in others. It was an unconventional relationship, unfavourable to you in every sense.

But who was to say that you weren’t allowed to enjoy others? Just the way he were? An innocent tryst with another that would scratch that itch not even your fingers could ease late at night.

You let your eyes trail over the inhabitants of the local watering hole. There were the usuals there, sitting at the bar, nursing their beers. A group of frat boys were in the corner, cheering over shots. It wasn’t until a pair of dark brown eyes met your own that your interested was piqued.

You probably wouldn’t have dared made a move if he hadn’t come sauntering over. He didn’t walk like Flip. Flip’s walk was self-assured, dominating in a subtle way. This guy walked in a cocky way, shoulders swaying with every step as he though himself holier than thou. It was off-putting, but you thought you owed it to yourself to at least try.

“Saw you watching me over there.” His attempt at flirting was just as cocky as his walk.

“Oh, hahah..” Your laugh was awkward as you fumble for a reply. “Do you come here often?”

“First time actually, I’m here visiting my brother.” He motioned toward some guy in the back that you couldn’t see.

“That’s nice,” You said awkwardly.

He introduced himself as he took perch on the barstool next to you, shaking your hand weakly.

“So, what do you do for fun around here?” He asked, motioning for the bartender to refill both of your glasses at the same time.

“Ehm… Come here, I guess.” You waved your hand in the air, uncommittedly. Anxiety was flooding your nerves, practically inhibiting your ability to speak. You let your eyes trail over the room again quickly. Flip was still hands-deep in that woman’s skirt, your friends had slipped off somewhere else, getting lost in others.

The man, Chris, held a one-sided conversation without seeming to notice your less than keen interest. The thought of letting go and trying to flirt with somebody else was always easier in theory rather than practice.

It wasn’t his fault, if you were somebody else you might’ve enjoyed it. But all you could think about was the way his eyes were too dark, his hair too light, and his voice to high to remind you of Flip.

“Listen,” He placed his hand on your thigh. High up, bold, wanting. “I really like you, what do you say about getting out of here?”

You didn’t have a chance to respond before a chest pressed against your back.

“She’s not going anywhere with you.”

You felt faint hearing Flip’s voice rumble through his chest as he pulled himself closer to you. His hand wrapped around Chris’s wrist, forcing it away from your leg.

“Hey, man, we were having a conversation here.” Chris was foolish. It wasn’t his fault, he wasn’t from here, after all. He didn’t know the perfectly concealed rage that could simmer under Flip’s skin when he felt like he was being disrespected.

“I’m going to offer you a piece of advice.”

“Flip, don’t-” Interjecting was pointless. Flip did whatever Flip wanted.

“You should take your drink, go back to whatever lowly corner you came from, and stay there. Get it through your thick skull that you’re not wanted here.” Flip roughly pushed the glas of beer Chris had been nursing on the bar, it’s content sloshing over the sides as it almost toppled over.

The silence that followed hung in the air, permeating it, polluting it. It didn’t take long for Chris to visibly crumble under Flip’s stare but it was almost as if he didn’t want to admit it to himself. He didn’t want to give in to the menacing man that had appeared out of nowhere. Reasonable, perhaps, but entirely futile. Flip would always get what he wanted in the end, no matter what.

Chris left without a word, sparing you a pitiful glance before he was gone and all that was Flip took over your senses as he rounded you, coming to a stop so you were chest to chest.

You refused to look at him, staring straight ahead, focusing on the way his chest would calmly breath in and out as he waited.

“Look at me,” His voice was low, steady. You wanted to, of course, but you were stubborn. Just when you were putting yourself first, there he was again. A forever keg in your wheels, keeping you in the same place.

His fingers were soft against your chin as he urged it upwards, making you look at him.

He was smiling. Not a full on grin, but that sweet, cheeky little smile that held so much mirth that you wanted to hit him. It’s like he’d been waiting for this, waiting for you to act out and finally do something for yourself.

“Wipe that smile of your face,” you hissed out. “What could you possible have to smile about?”

“You.”

“Oh, yeah, because it is so funny ruining my fucking life.”

“Ruining it?”

“Yeah, ruining it.”

“You should’ve just said something if you felt that way.” You almost laughed at that. It wasn’t like you hadn’t said something. It felt like all you did was talk, and all he did was not care.

“Cut me a fucking break, Flip. Don’t act like you don’t know what you’ve been doing to me. This- this game you’ve been playing, toying with my heart. One minute it feels like you might actually want me but then the next you go and fucksomebody else and I’m just suppose to pretend that it’s all fine?”

“It’s not?” He said, playfully.

“Fuck you.”

“Stop swearing, and keep your voice down.”

“What? So that your whore won’t hear us?”

“She means nothing,” He said

“So why do you keep doing this? Why keep stringing me along?” You were defeated. Your relationship with Flip was strange. Peculiar. Unexplainable in certain aspects as you yourself did not entirely know exactly what you two were.

You looked up at him, tears brimming in your eyes as all the hurt you had felt over the past however-long caught up to you. He was looking down at you, as if in wonder. Was it possible that Flip Zimmerman was naive to the way he had treated you? To the way he had made you suffer? Had you been imagining it all in your head?

He didn’t look sorry, he didn’t sound sorry, but when the apology tumbled out of his mouth, you accepted it. Perhaps it was you who were naive but you wanted a moment of happiness with him. Even if it was a moment entirely clouded by delusion.

You nodded your head, a small movement of acceptance that made Flip light up.

Flip would always shine brighter than any star you had ever seen. He took your breath away and filled you with a rush of serotonin every time you gazed into his eyes for even a brief second. His eyes were like molten gold, blinding you as they tinkled. Devotion to him and only him was inevitable.

“Will you come home with me?” The answer was obvious. The question had been what you had waited for. Taking his hand and slipping out through the door before any of your friends still caught in reason could stop you.

His hand dipped between your legs, fingers mapping out a path to your most sacred place the second he pushed you through the door of his home.

"Look at you, already so wet for me." Flip chuckled darkly. He knew you couldn't resist him. Your need for him was as deep as his need was for you.

His lips met yours in a searing kiss that took your breath away. His tongue caressed yours as teeth clashed.

His fingers toyed with your panties, teasing you. He knew how desperate you were for anything he would give you.

He took his time, teasing your more and more before he finally was gracious enough to slide a finger inside of you. Just a single finger to test you. You walls clamped down around him tightly, gripping him, coaxing him to give you more. He pumped it in and out of you slowly, so slowly that you thought you might lose your mind if he didn't give you something more, and you voiced so much.

"Please, Flip." What you needed was clear. But that didn’t mean Flip would be so easy to give in.

"You’ll get more, sweetheart. Don’t you worry.” He said sweetly before withdrawing from you completely.

"Flip-"

"You're so impatient." He chided you, tutting teasingly with a lazy smile on his lips. “Go to the bedroom.” He commanded whilst motioning his head in its direction. You were quick to obey, of course, feet moving swiftly as you stumbled your way on shaky legs through the halls and onto his bed.

You flipped onto it in excitement, eager for his touch once again.

“Is this what you wanted? To be one of my whores?” He asked as he undressed slowly, unbuttoning his flannel and letting his jeans fall to the floor before he took a stand by the foot of the bed. He trailed his hands up your legs equally as slow before grabbing a hold of your panties and pulling them off you. You couldn’t get any words out to respond, whining with need.

The evidence of your excitement was clear to him, almost dripping and shining in the low light. A sane man wouldn’t be able to hold back having a women presented so willingly to him with her legs spread wide and skirt bunched up around her hip, chest heaving with excitement. And of course, Flip was a sane man, in some sense at least, for he was quick to crawl in between your legs and mouth attached to your clit.

Digging his fingers into your thighs, he hauled one of them onto his shoulder and connected his mouth to your sweet cunt.

The sounds of your breathless moans were intoxicating as he suckled your clit into his mouth, flicking his tongue over the stiff nubb.

Your knees fought against his shoulders as your hand came to cover your mouth, willing any sounds to stay inside of you as you bit down softly as you were overwhelmed by the pleasure rushing through you.

“You taste so fucking good, sweetheart.” Flip praised in a panted breath before diving back in.

You fought to keep your eyes open as your hips moved up and down in a desperate attempt to grind your aching clit against his mouth and nose in search for that perfect sensation that would drive you over the edge.

Your hand slid into Flip’s hair, gliding through it before grasping a firm hold of it as a wave after wave of moans finally made their way out of you.

Flip had already made you come once when he slid his fingers into you, continuing his ministrations on your clit with his mouth. His movement were much rougher than what they had been before, thrusting them into you expertely, hitting that sweet spot of yours over and over again.

Your back arched into the air and mouth fell open at the overstimulation. It was exquisite.

“Oh, oh, Flip. I’m gonna cum.” You whined desperately. “Oh, God.”

You clung to his arm in an attempt to hold on to any sort of sanity but it was all for nought. Your legs spasmed as you came with a cry.

Flip tried to hold you down as he never let up despite your half hearted please, flicking the tip of his tongue over your clit again and again and again. He worked you through your orgasm, never relenting as your silent whimpers spured him on. You had such a tight hold on his hair that it made him groan, sending a wave of vibrations through you that caused you to gasp. He only stopped once your whimpers had grown in volume to a steady whine of pleas.

“You’re such a good girl.” Flip praised as he came up, hovering over you. “You gonna let me fuck you, sweetheart?”

“Yes! Please, Flip.”

He tugged at his hard and weeping cock a few times as he admired you. You were breath taking like this, legs parted, eyes hazy from your orgasm, cunt dripping, ready for him.

"You’re gonna look so gorgeous, covered with my cum." Flip's voice was husky as he leaned down and pulled you closer to him by your face before planting a sloppy, wet kiss on your lips as he came to rest between your hips, a single arm keeping him up.

He dragged his thick and cum weeping cock through your folds a few times, thoroughly coating it in your slickness. The anticipation was killing you. His fingers and tongue weren't enough, you wanted more, needed it.

You grabbed a hold of his shoulders, pulling him closer even to you in desperation.

"Please, Flip." You whispered, ready for him.

The sigh the both of you let out when he finally slipped all the way into your cunt was one of relief. You had missed this, had missed him.

Flip didn't give you time to adjust to him before he started pounding into you at a pace that was brutal in nature, just the way he knew you liked it.

“You’re such a dirty fucking whore.” He spat at you and you clenched around him in response. "Look at you, so desperate for my dick you could almost cry." Being his whore and whatever he wanted was everything you had ever wanted since the moment you had laid eyes on him.

He was so deep inside of you that you barely knew what to do with yourself. Flip's loud groans were bouncing around the walls of his room, blended in with your own gasps from every thrust into you.

Your walls were clenched so tightly around him, drawing him deeper and deeper inside.

"Fuck" You groaned. "Feels so- fucking good." You shakily breath out.

"This is what you wanted right? My cock so deep within you you’ll feel me for days" He cooed, slowing down just slightly, but each thrust was still as sharp, still as precise, and hard, and calculated.

A wailing yes! left your lips. You were sure you would be able to feel Flip's hands on your hips as you would nurse your hangover tomorrow, and most likely the day after that as well. You would feel him in every step you took. Forever.

"Harder." You pleaded.

He pulled out so just his tip was left in you, waiting there for just a second before slamming back into you again, buried to the hilt. The groan Flip let out sent tingles down your spine and caused you to clench even tighter around him, triggering another moan from him.

"I love it when you do that." He praised, followed by another rut into you.

He continued pumping into yours sweet cunt, drawing moans from you that were filthy. The sound of skin slapping and noises of pleasure mixed together as they bounced on the walls and around the room.

His thrusts had picked up in pace one again, ruthless and reckless as he fucked deeper and deeper into you. You were trembling against him, breath hitching, getting caught in your chest as you almost forgot how to breathe. You could feel your release mounting quickly once again, shockwaves gripping your body and rolling through you with every buck into you.

"Fuck, I'm gonna come,"

"No, you're not." Flip withdrew from you completely, flipping down on the bed beside you. You were drunk on the feeling of him, needy and desperate, ready to take everything he would give to you.

His legs were spread, cock standing on full attention, bobbing against his stomach, it's tip coloured an angry red, ready to be inside of you again.

"Come on then." He pulled you out of the short-lived trance you had been in over the sight of him. You though again of how there was something so ethereal about him, something other than just his looks, something that would always draw you back in and keep you on his hook.

You were quick in your movements, throwing a leg around his hips and hoisting yourself upright, causing him to chuckle over your desperation.

"Eager, are we?" He welcomed you with open arms, hands coming up to rest on your hips once again, as he gazed up at you with a smile on his face.

He helped you pull your wrinkled dress over your head, placing open mouthed kisses on every inch of your skin he could reach. His lips attached themselves to your perked nipple, sucking it into his mouth and releasing it with a pop.

"You're so fucking gorgeous." He sounded as if he was in awe simply over the sight of you.

You sank down swiftly, engulfing him with your tight walls, stopping only when you were at the base, stuffed full of him.

"Oh, fuck, Flip!" The change in angle had you convinced that he was deeper in you than ever before, the tip of him nestling against your cervix.

"You feel so good like this." Flip moaned. He tapped two fingers against the side of your thigh, signalling you to move and you were more than happy to oblige. Your feet were securely rooted on the floor and you placed your hands on the walls to give yourself the leverage and support you needed to begin riding him.

He let you control every movement; let you set the pace as you slid up and down on his throbbing cock. Flip's hands were exploring every inch of you that they could reach, massaging your breasts, caressing your thighs, sliding across your back, and then, finally, they found their way to the apex of your thighs and started firmly circling your clit.

Flip let out a loud grunt every time you slammed yourself down onto him. It was a sound you wanted to hear every day, every waking moment and in every vivid dream.

The steady pace that you had managed to keep was slowly becoming nothing as you felt yourself loosing control over your limbs the closer you climbed to that high you were chasing. The muscles in your stomach were tightening rapidly over the coiling tension and your walls gripped him even tighter.

"Say my name."

"What?" You weren't lucid enough to possibly begin to understand what he meant at that moment.

"Say. My. Name." He repeated, making sure to punctuate every single word with a small thrust upward to meet you as you came down on him.

His name spilled out of your mouth just a few seconds later in the form of a moan.

"Who’s making you feel this good?" You weren't as quick to heed his words this time, the building pressure between your legs taking up all of your attention.

His hands were back on your hips, forcing you up, slipping out of you, and then guiding you dominantly into the position he wanted with your face pressed into the sheets and your ass high up in the ar. He was swift to enter you again, you had barely even had time to complain over the loss of him before he was drilling into you.

"Flip!" You shouted his name as you finally came, tumbling over the edge as stars were painted behind your eyelids. Your legs were shaking, spasming, through the waves, words of gibberish leaving your mouth as he made you babble like a brook. He hadn't even faltered in his movements, continuing to pump into you as he chased his own climax. He was panting loudly in between groans and the sound of skin slapping against each other.

"Who owns this pussy?"

"You." Another sharp thrust into you.

"Who owns this pussy?"

"You, Flip. Oh, god, you, Flip!" Small droplets of tears were leaking from the corner of your eyes as Flip was steadily driving you to cum again as he fucked into you.

You hadn't felt this way before, you didn't even know you could feel this way; the overwhelming stimulation that was rushing through your blood, lighting your nerves on fire, making you want to stay right here, right now, forever.

"That's fucking right." Flip came with a deep jerk into you, pulling out to come all over your back before entering you again to give you a few last thrilling pumps.

You laid there on his bed in a heap, totally out of it as he calmly came to rest beside you. He coaxed you onto your back so that he could plant a sweet kiss on your lips. Uttering words that made your erratic heart pump even faster.

“All mine.”

Thank you for reading! Please check out my Masterlist if you want to read more.

Tags in reblog.

#flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman x you #flip zimmerman smut #adam driver smut #adam driver x reader #adam driver fanfic #flip zimmerman x reader #adcu fanfiction #adam driver character #adcu

[calummss]

PREY | FLIP ZIMMERMAN

masterlist

summary: never trust a charming man. his charm might turn into your worst nightmare when the man seems too good to be true

pairing: fem! reader x flip zimmerman

words: 2.1k

a/n: this is the weirdest idea i’ve ever had, do not ask how i came up with it…i wrote this for english lit so if there a name or description to the my oc i changed to ‘y/n’ please ignore since i didnt proof read!!

TW! kidnapping, implied cannibalism

"I can hear you, sweetheart," taunting words fell between the rapid rustling and crunching of the autumn leaves, creaking branches, and the smell of wet weeds and newly bloomed wild flowers.

A thin layer of sweat covered the nape of your neck; your hairs stuck to the side of your face as you twisted and turned to see what direction was the way out of the forest maze—quickly and safely. Every second you pondered, you wasted time. Every wrong turn you took, you wasted energy. Every second, you were hopelessly running away from safety.

You felt a surge of adrenaline as the cold air bit into your lungs. You forced your legs to push harder off the muddy ground and slippery roots, anticipating the relief of finding someone who could help. A sudden ringing noise penetrated your ear; a waft of air shot past you. Your heart sank into what seemed like a bottomless pit in your stomach when you saw a shotgun shell embedded in tree bark. A meaningless piece of brass and plastic, the colour of gasoline fuel, but its shape solid; red like blood.

Your screaming burst through your lungs; it was the only weapon you had. Your breath was sharp and frantic, your eyes wide filled with tears. Fear washed over you as you thought of the possibility of your life being cut short just because you had trusted a man who turned out to be the kind of charming until he got what he needed.

"You broke my trust, Y/n." His voice sang through the thick air. "You know, my favourite game as a boy used to be hide-and-seek. Always played with my brother, friends, family,” A short but taunting silence made your heart race. "They always complained because I played unfairly and cheated," he said, to the sound of his gun clocking. "I disagree."

The soft ground blurred below you. You continued running for what seemed like longer than it should have, figuring it was because of the psychopath on your tail. The only things that could hinder you from survival were your physical limits and your doubt. But your exhaustion also came running after you, and your cramping legs gave in, falling into the pile of wet leaves. Your body shook as you pressed your back against the tree trunk, trying to regain some sort of power to keep on running, but it was no use.

His frame edged closer and closer, his black shoulder-length hair blowing in the low wind. His dark gaze fixed on you as his twisted smile sent shivers down your spine.

Your mind went frantic with the thought, ‘weak.’

He looked at you, jaw clenched, inches away from you. Nostrils picked up the scent of his cologne as your lips started to tremble, knowing you had failed to outrun him. What would he do now that you had tried to run away? You didn’t know.

"You look beautiful when you're scared," he crouches down, cocking his head. "But the fun is over now and I get really angry when people try to outsmart me. Will you try to outsmart me again?"

"Please!" Your voice cracks. "Please, you don’t have to do this!" You cry out, hot tears streaming down your cheeks.

"But I do," his voice now soft like it had been before he opened up the door to his cabin. "I have to do this."

Your crying intensified; your chest grew tight as bile rose in your throat. Blood pounded in your ears. Your hands shook. Your feet tingled. Your vision was disfigured, as if you were looking through a fish tank. There was nothing else you could do but give up. His strong arms scooped you off the ground and started carrying you away.

Your heart pounded even harder when you could see a street poking from behind the branches, realising you had given up before the finish line. Darkness was torn from your face, and a matrix of lights blinded you. Groaning, you shifted, attempting to jerk away from the brightness beyond your lids. Your hand hits your face, the drowsiness making you feel like a marionette. But even though your limbs feel heavy, like they had piled on imaginary weight, you tried to pull herself together. Pushing your torso off the ground, you noticed you were back in the living room you had been in moments before you took off running. Your eyes scanned for restraints—none.

But there he was. Tall, broad, muscular, wearing...black? A black blazer buttoned over something white, dark trousers, black shoes, all melting together into one until you blink a few times.

He must have noticed your surprise.

"Don’t worry," he took a swig of beer. "This manor is human proof. Both escaping," he huffed out, placing his hands on his thighs before talking towards the kitchen counter, "I mean like escape proof, soundproof, everything proof." He laughed.

"Why are you doing this?"

You spoke, your heart pounding and your voice cracking. "What the fuck is happening?"

He cackled, like he had one too many drinks, and laughed at a terribly awful joke. "Something very unfortunate for you."

"Let me go. Please. I swear I—I won’t tell anyone."

Silence.

“What happened, Flip?" Your gaze dropped to his frame, his chest rising and falling with each breath he took. His hands engulfed the beer bottle he held. "What did I do wrong?"

"You did nothing wrong, Y/n." Monotone. Dry.

"Then please tell me why you are doing this to me." You couldn’t stop your chin from trembling or your heart from wanting to explode out of your chest. "You treated me so well. We slept together. And now. What is this?"

Flip scrambled out of his seat.

Your eyes darted across the room—the drawing room at the cabin, nothing but miles of land and sheep. It stood close to the sea, just off the coast of the Atlantic Ocean, which at this time of year had the strongest and toughest currents.

Flip placed the beer on one of the coffee tables and braced his weight on the gold-encrusted sofa that stood perfectly opposite you.

"I mean don’t get me wrong, dear, the sex was incredible and probably some of the best I ever had but it was part of my scheme."

"What scheme? To lure me to the woods?” You wanted to shout, but every bit of effort you made to speak or move was tripled against the weight of you building fear.

"Look, it’s nothing personal, Y/n," he said, lifting the corner of his lips. "You took my bait and now it's on you. It’s not my fault when you’re so gullible when it comes to love. I mean seriously, falling in love within three dates?"

"Is Flip even your real name?"

"Yes. My full name is Philip Zummerman."

"You give your victims your government name?"

"Well, it’s not like any of them will ever tell the police," he chuckled, his white teeth shining between his black moustache and beard. "You asked me before why I am doing this. I have an answer to that but I don’t think you’ll enjoy it as much."

"What is the answer?"

"I am handsome, well proportioned and insanely wealthy. Those two components work rather marvellously together. I either charm my way out of any trouble or I’ll just pay off what I need to. Humans are leeches by nature, you know," he took another sip of his beer. "Humans crave luxuries and comfort, and what else?"

"I don’t know."

“Yes, you do. C’mon!" He slouched down with the biggest grin he had yet given.

“Ehm,” pause, “Money?"

“Ding Ding Ding…money. How much money do you think it will take to buy an ordinary man’s silence? Say less than a thousand dollars? Maybe even two if he’s desperate enough."

You had no idea how to behave. You felt like you were compelled to listen to him.

Flip stood back up again, beer in his hand, his back facing her as he paced around on the dark ebony floors, the squeaking penetrating your ears.

“And how much do you think you will need to persuade that same man, so dull and simple, to take a life?" His feet stopped moving.

A deafening silence.

What?

"Those dirty old men rummaging around the dirty cities of Colorado would do it for 5.000? Maybe 10. But in their eyes, you are worthless. Not worthy of anything except the price tag above your head that has compelled them to blindly follow any orders given to them. Just like dogs. I think there’s a psychology behind it but then again I am no psychologist,"

“What are you going to do with me?" You asked once more, collecting every ounce of calmness you had left, forcing yourself to make contact with him.

He sighed in response. Like he was... bored, annoyed, rushed? Perhaps all three?

"I’m going to kill and eat you."

His gaze went through you like a blast of ice, his sick smile making your stomach churn. Your muscles stiffened, paralyzed by fear. You could hear the slow, dragging beat of your heart. Fear became a tangible living force that crept over you like some hungry beast, immobilising you and your brain, holding you captive. Every muscle in your body screamed at you to try and escape again, but you remained frozen.

"What…" Bile started to rise again.

"I will kill you, and I will eat you." The clicking of his tongue enunciating his pointed finger on you. "A simple concept really."

Panic started to settle in again. Fear creeping from behind, the hair on the nape of your neck stood up.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no." Nothing but high-pitched whimpers. Shallow breaths made it impossible to think clearly.

Your mind was scattered. How to escape? What had happened? Was your hand numb? Why did it feel like little pinpricks?

"This isn’t happening."

"It’s happening." His dark, monotone voice penetrated past your thoughts.

"It’s not happening. It’s not happening. This is all a bad dream."

You never had a heart attack but if someone had told you this is what it felt like, you wouldn’t doubt them. Your breathing was laboured, and your palms felt wet. You couldn’t think of anything but that your chest might get crushed any minute. "Oh, Lord," you started, "save me just this once."

You were trying to breathe, but you couldn’t. Someone was clutching your throat, stopping you from taking full breaths. But there was no one stopping you. Tears started trickling down your cheeks as panic crept over you again. This time, panic was unavoidable. It felt like forever. You sat there and panicked. He kept trying to say something, but nothing but mumbles made it past your ear. What he tried to tell you was inaudible.

‘Y/N!’

So suddenly his shouting erupted, bringing your mind back to reality as you stared blankly at him. You could feel a tear sitting at your lower lash line.

“There you are," Flip’s voice was half way between a whisper and a shout, deep and rumbling like the earthquake below you but still full of the danger you felt whenever you noticed his eyes on you. "Y/n."

“You’re a cannibal?" You choked back the fear and guilt you felt in your heart, speaking to yourself .

“Don’t insult your own intelligence," he tuts. "I do have a tendency to strongly dislike people who belittle themselves for the sole reason of incompetence or lack of confidence."

“And you just eat people?"

"I have refined tastes," he answers, his expression emotionless, but you could see the coiled tension in his body, the rage ready to spill forth. "You have complimented me on my cooking just earlier this evening. I remember the way your eyes fluttered, enjoying the thigh fillet. I would say your tastes are the same as mine. Why don’t we get you relaxed, dear? Hm? I have a room just for you and we’ll talk about this once you are back to normal."

"Normal. Normal."

You could feel his arms underneath you as he brought you to his chest. Feet dangling in the air as he made his way towards a wooden door that led down a spiral staircase, a red carpet greeting you as he walked past another long hallway until he came to a halt in front of the second-to-last door.

"You know, my dear, normally in these types of situations there would be some revulsion at the revelation that you’ve consumed a person. I see nothing of that in your demeanour. You don’t seem to care about the fact that others have suffered to land on my plate, yet you only seem to panic after you found out that you would meet their same fate... Tell me why? Do you think you are more important?"

#adam driver #adam driver imagines #adam driver imagine #adam driver blurbs #adam driver blurb #adam driver headcanon #adam driver headcanons #adam driver smut #adam driver fluff #adam driver angst #kylo ren #kylo ren imagine #flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman imagine #flip zimmerman imagines #flip zimmerman headcanon #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman x you #flip zimmerman x y/n #adam driver x reader #adam driver x y/n #blackkklansman #blackkklansman imagine #kylo ren imagines

[mrs-gucci]

For the Hunt

{ werewolf!flip zimmerman x female reader }

anon

Werewolf Flip wanting to knock you up (or role play at it) and scenting when you’re ripe for him and chasing you down and pounding you

thank you for submitting this!!

warnings. SMUT (18+), werewolf in rut, primal kink (hunter/prey), breeding kink w/no intention of actually getting pregnant, dirty talk, outdoor sex, creampie, minimal aftercare.

word count: 995

🐺 written for werewolf wednesday 🐺

Your breathing is soft, exhilarated, creating little puffs of steam in the cold night air. A shiver runs down your spine, out of excitement or nerves, you’re not really sure.

You two have an agreement that on rut nights, he has full consent to use you however he wants or needs to. He tells you what he needs from you on a particular night and you give it to him willingly, whether it's being tied up on the bed down in the basement or up at his remote mountain cabin.

His absolute favorite thing, however, is when he gets to hunt you. Which is why you’re currently standing behind a big pine tree, trying to steady your breathing.

By now you’ve nearly perfected the art of giving Flip a good chase, having been with him for almost six years. And tonight is an extra special full moon because you’re ovulating, which gives Flip the ultimate prize in his werewolf brain: the chance to breed you.

He looks up at the full moon with his golden eyes, knowing it’s time to hunt, he lifts his snout eagerly.

Almost instantly, he picks up traces of your scent and his paws thud against the earth as he runs into the thick Colorado wilderness. He can already feel that this is one of his more mild ruts, but he's still just as desperate and tuned-in regardless.

Flip slows down and sniffs the air again, knowing that he's close. You can feel him nearby, sticks snapping and leaves crunching under his large paws.

You sneak a look around the tree and he doesn't seem to notice, so you quickly attempt to sneak to another tree. But of course, his head whips over and you freeze, then take off running.

He feels the familiar tingle of his primal hunting instinct creeping up through his body, but he still gives you a head start before taking off in your direction, eyes beginning to turn black with desire.

Your breathing is heavy as you sprint away from Flip, trying to give him a good chase. He growls softly out of sheer thrill and quickly dips to the side to run around you, then stands proudly. You come to a screeching halt.

Strands of drool hang from his jowls as he takes a step forward, then another, piercing you with his lustful stare. You let out a shaky breath and step back, not actually afraid but acting so anyway.

"Please don't hurt me," you say softly, eyes flickering down to his hard member for just a moment.

He grunts when he notices your quick downward look and stands a bit taller, eager to present himself to you.

"I have something else in mind," he says in his deep, gruff voice. "If you do your job correctly, then it should be pleasurable for both of us."

You bite your lip as he steps forward again, sniffing the air.

"You smell especially good tonight, little girl. I could smell your ripe, fertile pussy from back at the house. You're so ready to be bred."

"I don't--"

"Run," he says, interrupting you. "If I catch you, you're mine."

Immediately, you take off again and he gives you a moment before taking three long strides, catching you and causing you to fall over. He quickly catches you with a clawed paw, though.

He brings his mouth down to your ear as he lowers you to the ground.

"I got you," he says. "And now, I get to pound you until you're swollen with my seed."

You whimper softly as he holds your wrists down and takes a sharpened claw to your pants, tearing the crotch open to make room for his thick, pulsing cock. He lets out a shaky breath as he pushes your legs apart and lines himself up with your wet entrance.

Flip groans when he finally gets the wet, hot relief he's been desiring all night within your walls. He gives you a moment to adjust before beginning to move, his hips delivering sharp thrusts.

You moan unashamedly as Flip growls and fucks you from behind. Hearing his noises of pleasure only arouses you more and you clench, earning a surprised, breathy grunt from your husband.

“F-Flip…”

His noises get louder and he leans down again, beginning to lick at your neck and jaw, occasionally scraping his teeth lightly against your skin as an alternative.

“I need you,” he grunts, hips speeding up slightly. “I need you to h-hold all my cum inside, keep it a-all…give me pups…”

You gasp softly, eyebrows knitting in pleasure.

“I will,” you breathe. “I-I’ll keep it all f-for you, my love.”

His cock throbs and he knows he can't hold on much longer. He always feels guilty that more often than not, you don't get to cum like this. But he definitely makes sure to return the favor the first opportunity he gets.

"Sweetheart, I'm gonna--" He cuts off as the intense orgasmic sensations suddenly rush through him. His eyes flutter shut and he rocks his hips desperately, spilling every drop he has deep inside of you. "O-Ohhhh god..."

You sigh softly as he lets go of your wrists and sits up a bit, still staying buried deep in your pussy. He helps you get up on your hands and knees, then licks your neck again.

"Are you alright? I wasn't too harsh?"

"I'm fine, honey," you reassure, looking back at him with a small smile. "I promise I'm okay. I would've used the safe word if I wasn't."

Flip nods and pulls out slowly, letting out a shaky huff as he does so. When you stand up, he gently picks you up and you rest in his large arms. You smile up at him.

"I love you, Flip."

His eyes soften and wishes he could return your smile. "I love you too."

You sigh softly and look up at the night sky as Flip carries you back to the house.

****

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[gardenfullofsage]

Cherries

Flip Zimmerman x Fem!Reader

Reader has a hard time, getting over her attraction towards Flip. A date gone South, however would finally aid her into getting what she wants.

word count: 2,357 words

Warning(s) Smut smut smut, a bit of misogyny, Mentions of a black eye. I don't own this Gif

(edited)

‘’He’s 13 years your senior.’’ ‘’ Wouldn’t you like someone older?’’ ‘’You’ll grow out if this phase.’’

‘’He’s not into young girls.’’ Blah blah blah

Your friend tries so hard to drill her words into your head.

No matter how hard you try you can’t fight the attraction you have for him. He’s so much older, handsome, broad, rough, and experienced. Not like the other lanky town boys, who can’t wait to rub one out.

This is your third time calling his desk today. Call it desperation maybe, you’re hoping he’s there this time. Your previous calls went straight to voicemail.

‘’ Flip, speaking.’’ Is all you hear from the other line. You jolt your heart beating in two different parts. ‘’H-hey yes I’d like to report a theft.’’ You shakily speak, kicking yourself for stuttering. You feel him shift on the other side of the phone. ‘’Ma’am this is the division of intelligence, I think you got the wrong desk. Hold on while I transfer your call to the, main desk.’’ You don’t get to say anything else before you’re put on hold.

You slam your phone on the counter harshly. Gritting your teeth.

‘’I hate him’’ You mutter.

This is starting to get pathetic really. Maybe Sophie is right. Maybe this is just a phase.

Sophie planned yet another date for you, this time a boy she met in the mall. If you didn’t know better you’d think she was planning your murder.

You were only 3 weeks into the summer. The Colorado heat beating down your neck. Your short flowy dress does zero justice. You made your way around town finally reaching the dinner.

The dinner however was empty. Fleetwood Mac playing softly in the background as you looked for your ‘date.’ Your eyes settled on a red head. His eyes never leaving your legs, you cursed yourself for even listening to Sophie.

‘’I hate her’’ you muttered for the tenth time today.

‘’Hey, Y/N right?’’ said the red head as he made his way over to you. You plastered on a fake smile as you nodded. He came in for a hug though, his hand stayed on your waist.

‘’The names Jack, Sophie’s says a lot about you.’’ He says his hand inching close to your bum. You squirm uncomfortably. You move around him and make your way to the booth he was sitting at.

Jack wasn’t too far behind. Instead of sitting at the booth directly across from you, he sits next to you. You keep as close to the wall as you can, but you feel him inch closer.

‘’Good afternoon, welcome to Sally's, what can I get for ya’.’’ The waitress finally made her appearance. You take this opportunity and shove the arm he placed on your shoulder previously, off of you. You feign innocence as you look over the menu.

‘’I’ll get the cheeseburger with curly fries on the side, oh and a Vanilla milkshake.’’ You say handing her the menu.

‘’Actually, she’ll take the ranch salad, and a water. Get me a beer and a steak with the anchovies on the side.’’ Jake says, handing her the menu.

You scoff, but before you can speak up the waitress is already gone.

‘’Sorry, I don’t like my girls… what’s the word fat.’’ He says, a stupid smile plastered on his face.

You stare at his face blankly clenching your fist, fighting the urge to smack the stupid smirk off his raunchy face.

‘’I don’t like my boys smelly.’’ You say forcing your way out of the booth.

He angrily gripped your wrist and forced you back into your seat.

His grip bruising as you grimace.

‘’I like my women obedient.’’ He remarks his breath fanning across your face. You try to fight his grip off of you, the booth granting you a disadvantage. ‘’I should teach you a lesson, hm?’’ He says as you continue to fight your way out of his grip.

You don’t know if anyone cares to help, or they're simply too scared.

‘’Get. Off. Of. Me. You piece of shit.’’ At this point you just resort to kicking.

His grip loosens a bit as he grunts in pain. You use this to your advantage and run out of the dinner. He’s hot on your tail.

You run across the street flailing your arms around like a mad woman.

‘’Get back over here, you’re only making it worse for yourself.’’ You hear him yell.

Your hearts pounding in your ears, you’re panting heavily. You run into a nearby gas station slamming the door closed.

The customers in the shop, staring at you wide eyed.

You duck behind an aisle as you hear the door slam open. You’re too focused on the footsteps coming in the shop, you fail to notice the heavy ones coming from behind you.

A rough tap on your shoulder has you nearly entering into cardiac arrest.

Your eyes widen as you make eye contact with Flip.

You don’t know if your heart is beating out of fear or arousal. You can’t tell anymore.

You stare at each other for a bit, before you feel Jack come up from behind.

‘’Hey man, sorry my woman, she's just out of control.’’ Jack says cackling softly.

He goes to reach for your arm, you pull back bumping into Flips chest.

‘’I’m not your woman, back up you fucking weirdo.’’ Jacks friendly smile quickly turned evil.

‘’Honey, you’re making this really difficult, Come here now!’’ You flinch at his tone, you remain still; feet digging onto the tiled floor.

The once full gas station soon became empty. Just You, Flip, and this crazy redneck.

Flip clears his throat from behind you, you keep your eyes on Jack, as his gaze goes over your head staring at Flip.

‘’I’m not much of a woman reader, but I’m pretty sure she means back off.’’ You can’t see him but, you imagine the cold look he must have on his face.

‘’What the fuck do you know, back off and mind your business shit face.’’ At this point you believe Jack’s just digging his grave.

You feel Flip move around you, roughly putting you behind him.

You get lost in your head while you stare at Flips back remembering and reminiscing, the time you first met.

He had arrested you for ruining your next-door neighbor's garden.

She had it coming, she was a racist.

He was forcing you, well trying to force you into his truck.

You threatened to claw his eyes out. Your denim skirt rising with every kick you gave.

He was rough, as picked you up and pinned you on the hood of his car.

‘’You can try sweetheart, let's see how fast I’ll have you on the ground.’’ You felt his hard on pressing into your backside. You whimpered at the threat. Squirming at the hold he had on your wrists.

You prayed and hoped they would bruise.

He chuckled darkly, as his large hand moved your hair to the side. You could smell black coffee and cigarette on his breath.

That was the first encounter, and God were you hooked.

Maybe you were Insane. No one has ever talked to you in that way, not that you’d allow it.

You feel your panties dampen at the memory of Flips roughness.

You were too into your head you didn’t notice Flips fingers snapping in front of your face.

‘’You really like trouble huh?’’ He muttered out.

You don’t reply as you look behind him, noticing Jacks absence.

‘’Did you kill him?’’ Stupid question, still didn’t hurt to ask.

Flip laughed, ‘’Are you insane?’’ You huff out in annoyance before answering.

‘’Yes, move, you're in my way.’’ You don’t know what caused the switch in your attitude. You were horny, frustrated, and humiliated.

You make your way pass Flip, before being pulled into his chest.

His grip on your wrist tight as he made his way to the back of the gas station.

You try to get out of his grip. Before he slams you against a wall, the impact dizzying.

You lose focus and barely register where you are.

All you can see is Flip, all you can smell is Flip. You close you eyes, and let out a shudder. The buzzing of the store fridges the only sound in the vicinity.

‘’You know, you’re trouble right?’’ You feel him whisper. You keep your eyes closed.

His hand grips your face roughly, squeezing your cheeks together your mouth forms into a pout.

He shakes your face side to side.

You let out a whimper involuntarily.

‘’So responsive.’’He chuckles out

‘’You think I don’t know its you calling my desk, at 1 in the morning?’’ At that your face hardens you shove him back.

‘’Yeah, then how come you never answered asshole.’’ You spit out

Flip chuckles dryly.

What’s up with this man and chuckling. Is something funny?

You don’t finish that thought before his hands gripping your hair forcing your head back.

You moan out, as you feel his thigh come up between your legs.

‘’Please.’’ You don’t know what you’re begging for as you close your eyes.

The hold on your hair tightens as you mewl. ‘’Eyes on me pretty girl.’’ He slaps your cheek softly, your eyes open as you stare at him through your lashes.

‘’Good girl.’’ He mutters softly.

‘’Will you be good?’’ He whispers.

You nod your head.

Flip pulls away entirely. You whimper, missing his touch. You feel pathetic.

‘’Please, please I’ll be good I promise.’’You say gripping onto his flannel.

‘’That’s what I like to hear’’ He pulls you into his chest as he smashes his lips onto yours.

You feel him groan against your lips, his kiss rough, and hot.

Everything you wanted and more.

You feel his hands lift up the skirt of your dress. You hold your breath as his fingers prod at your heat.

‘’God, you're wet.’’ Is all he says before he pulls your panties to the side wasting no time in finger fucking you with his fingers.

You can’t control the loud moans leaving your mouth. His fingers felt too good. You were so touch deprived you felt close to your orgasm already.

‘’Such a dirty girl, Hm.’’ ‘’What happened to the tough girl from a few days ago.’’ ‘’ You’re so desperate for me huh? So pathetic.’’ ‘’That’s it, that’s my good girl.’’ His words dizzying as you grip his flannel.

He rips his fingers out of you as he forces you against the wall. You’re to anxious and desperate you start to wail and plead for him.

The sound of a belt clanking and a zipper going down has you biting your lip in anticipation.

Flip Grips your waist roughly as he kicks your legs apart. You feel his tip make contact with your needy hole, and you clench around nothing.

‘’Beg for it. Tell me how bad you want it.’’ He growls out his hand gripping your hair making you look back at him.

‘’Please I want it so bad, I’ve been good please-.’’ Your words were cut off by the loud moan you released.

His pace was merciless. His thrusts rough and fast.

He pulled your hair, tugging your face back as he roughly kissed your mouth.

He pants and groans into your mouth.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as his pace quickens somehow.

‘’You taste like fucking cherries.’’ He groans into your mouth. You smile as you open your eyes staring darkly at him. Flip spanks you roughly, making you moan.

‘’You like that? You like when I'm rough with you.’’ He says spanking you twice, thrice.

‘’Yes.’’ Is all you moan out. You feel yourself clenching as you reach your peek.

You gush all over him as you cum. Stars spotting your vision, your mouth wide open as he forces his fingers into your mouth. ‘’Give me one more. ’' He mutters into your ear tugging your dress down as your breasts spill out.

He slaps them as you mewl.

His pace quickens somehow his thrusts desperate, as tears cloud your vision. You suck and roll your tongue over his fingers.

‘’Shit, yeah just like that.’’ ‘’such a good fucking girl.’’ ‘’My good fucking girl.’’ ‘’only, I get to fuck you like this, you hear me. This pussy belongs to me.’’ You Nod your head as your moans increase in volume.

‘’I can’t please, it’s too much.’’ You curl your toes into your shoes.

‘’Yes, you can, give me one more, be a good girl.’’ Flips fingers reach forward and harshly spank your clit. You cry out as you come for the second time. This time your legs quiver.

You feel his thrust get desperate. You reach behind you and grip on his long, ebony hair. ‘’Please come inside of me, I want it, give it to me.’’ You say breathlessly.

He groans out as he stills completely. He fills you up as you maintain eye contact.

He pulls out softly, his seed already spilling down your legs.

‘’Go outside and wait for me in the truck, I got to clean up your mess.’’ He says before planting a kiss onto your lips.

You walk out of the room, receiving a slap on your ass.

The gas station remained empty.

As you made your way outside. You could see Jack across the street sporting a shiner on his eye.

You smile widely as you climb into the big red truck.

Flip walks out, a pep in his step.

As he climbs in he reaches into his flannel, pulling out a cigarette.

He stares into the rearview mirror. Noticing the stare Jack was giving the car.

Flip roughly grabs your chin, before pulling you into a sloppy kiss.

His hands start the ignition as he pulls out of the parking lot.

‘’I like my girls insane.’’ Is all he says, a wide smile taking over his features as he drives off.

________________________________________________

Hope you enjoyed this lol. As always, my requests are always open.

#flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman x you #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman smut #adam driver x reader #adam driver smut #adam driver

[reveluving]

red lipstick ; adam driver characters headcanons

summary: because what’s sexier than seeing you in red lipstick? 💄

warnings: fluff, humour, slightly explicit (minors DNI!)

a/n: on an ADCU spree so I figured it’s the best time to write my own, courtesy of @safarigirlsp​ & @in-silks-and-flesh-and-leather​ for continuously feeding my obsession hehe! pls pls pls give their work some extra love!! and don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» check out my full m.list!

✧･ﾟ Jacques Le Gris

Le Gris' own presence exudes confidence, ferocity, and allure, and his lady is no different. What better way to show the men who envy him the same way the ladies do with you than by bringing you the best of the best? He will settle for nothing less, especially when it comes to your comfort and the like, and he will know if they're not up to par.

Old-timey Jacques will indirectly criticize the maiden in charge, knowing they probably did so to make you seem 'less appealing' to your very own lover, but many seem to forget that he was extremely smart just as he was your doting husband. Just a quick exile over here, a simple repeat of his demand for the best over there and boom, he's back to being happy ol' Le Gris. Modern Jacques is no different, for he would easily purchase the shades you'd swatch and hum to yourself, knowing if he heard how much you liked it, he'd buy the whole store for you. Do you want them personalised, too? Go right on ahead!

And that's not a threat, it's a promise.

“You should never settle for anything less, ma chérie. I shall not allow it.” He’d chime in as soon as he sees your eyes sparkle at the new case with both wonderment and guilt. If you offer to repay him for his endless gifts, he will ask for your kisses, complete with the new set he’s given you, but ever the lover boy that he is, you know good and well it won’t end with just kisses.

✧･ﾟ Flip Zimmerman

Ever heard of the saying "the fortune favours the bold"? He doesn't need to hear from Stallworth that Flip has in fact 'loosen up' upon being graced by your existence. He does, however, preen in the knowledge that since knowing you, he's become bold. Well, bolder than he already was. Where has uncertainty brought him in life? But as much as he'd like to deny till the end of time, he's nearly done it before.

Keyword: nearly.

The day you met, he wondered if he had died in a shootout and met hell's personal It girl—no angel could pull off the devil's shade with pride the way you do. Had he continued to mask his hesitancy by returning your undeterred gaze, he'd be the biggest fool for letting you go.

He'd clock in work with your lipstick stains if he could. Public indecency be damned! He'd fight everyone and anyone if he hears another person talk about it as a form of embarrassment.

"S'not my fault you don't have a pretty girl to come home to." He'd shrug, though the wolfish smile told the poor bastard everything that he felt. Was he wrong? No. Was he going to fight Flip for publicly embarrassing him with the truth? Absolutely not; your husband would probably knock him out before the guy could even land a hit.

✧･ﾟ Clyde Logan

To think there were more red lipstick shades than he could count with his good hand. In all honesty, he really doesn't have a favourite nor does it matter if it's even red or not. That's not to say he doesn't care because clearly, he does, but only in the sense that it makes you happy. You are the professional in this particular field, after all. But best believe the happiness that heightens in him whenever you'd ask for his opinion.

Still, the colour red does, however, as the current generation says, 'hits different'. Unsubtle glances from his patrons were a normal occurrence but they never got any easier by the day. But, on the other hand? He’s the lucky son of a gun who gets to call you ‘his’.

But the man loves his kisses, and kisses he will get! With your frequent visits to the bar, you'll never let this man work without at least a peck on the cheek. Seeing his signature pout lift to the bashful smile we know and love (the audacity) takes no effort.

“Y’know just how to make a man happy, sugar.” He’d murmured against your lips, his sudden boldness not surprising you but instead, his customers, who were only giving him shit but also openly ogling at you not too long ago.

✧･ﾟ Kylo Ren

Whether you think of our ol’ touch-starved leader, the vampire, the knight, or whatever suits your fancy, Kylo will want nothing more than the top-notch of things for his darling, and your preference for lipstick shouldn’t be any different! He, in a way, is an embodiment of red—his passion for both his belief, his interest, and especially, his devotion to you. So, to see the very same colour he associates closely with, other than black, be embraced as your very own as well? He shouldn’t be surprised that most, if not all of his elation are sourced from you in general.

He’s a busy man, but he will not miss the opportunity to watch you apply your colour of the day with great care. He’s unconsciously smiling, lost in your melodic hum as his vow to keep you out of harm’s way grows stronger. He’s been through hell and back to survive, and he’d have no problem doing the same it’s to ensure you leave the danger zone unscathed. So, if something as simple as red lipstick makes you happy, then don’t be surprised if you see a new one even before your current one runs out.

And although all kisses are good kisses, don’t think he won’t pull you in for a real one once the smooching fest starts. You’re worried about leaving a stain? Don’t be! His men/subordinates don’t have the balls to point them out, knowing by doing so is a game over for them.

✧･ﾟ Charlie Barber

The man eats, sleeps, and breathes art, so it's knowing his beloved has her very own is a major plus! One would think nothing impresses him anymore, or at least, not as much as his own work, but oh, were they dead wrong. There hasn't been a day where the lipstick holder on your vanity table never makes him puff out his chest with pride. From the simple matte ones he'd buy after a random day at work simply because it reminds him of you, to the high-end bold to burgundy ones personalised with your name engraved on the case. C’mon, what harm would it do to him for paying a couple of hundreds for makeup as one of his ways to say thank you to his wife—his muse!

Charlie embraces this as your form of art; the shades, the textures, the right amount of shine or shimmer—just anything that screams you. Artistry performed best by his one and only.

And how could he forget about the polaroids you both have? Yours which has him covered in your lipstick stains and face in absolute bliss? His which were you kissing the area close to his happy trail, leaving the same shade colour to his toned body?

Yes, your husband's in paradise, indeed.

✧･ﾟ Commander Mills

Another hunk who really just finds your confidence in whichever you find is best is more than enough, because what's better than his girl's own joy? Even so, if red really speaks to you, then don't be surprised he takes advantage of it. If the numerous times you've caught him staring at your lips and even shamelessly holding your gaze doesn't tell you anything, then the instance he wraps his arms around you for a little while longer before pressing his lips onto yours definitely should.

And if we're talking about the whole time-travelling shebang and somehow, you had to make your own lipstick? Wowie. This man will scour every nook and cranny for the ingredients if you asked him to. Best believe he will find what you need!

If it means getting the opportunity to see you do your thing in your colour and being able to wipe off the accidental smear just after you've applied it, that man is on a mission.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

You can tell that I lost my roll towards the end HAHAHA but if you’re wondering what lipstick in particular inspired me to write this, it’s:

ETUDE Fixing Tint in Analog Rose/Vintage Red

Dior Rouge Dior Lipstick in 999

Stunna Lip Paint Longwear Fluid Lip Color in Uncensored

PERIPERA Ink Airy Velvet in Full Red Brick (11)

#— reve's reverie 🌹 #adcu #adcu x reader #adam driver #adam driver x reader #jacques le gris #jacques le gris x reader #jacques le gris x you #flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman x you #clyde logan #clyde logan x reader #clyde logan x you #kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren x you #charlie barber #charlie barber x reader #charlie barber x you #commander mills #commander mills x reader #commander mills x you #the last duel #logan lucky #star wars #marriage story #x reader

[rynwritesstuff]

Along the lines of the telling them about your kinks prompt, what about telling Flip that you want him to be extra dominant and aggressive? Please and thank you 🖤

Can do, anon! Thank you for requesting!! <3

Flip Zimmerman x Reader

Contains: NSFW content, Oral (reader receiving) (because apparently I have been on an oral sex kick lmao), dominant Flip, gendered nicknames (pretty girl, best girl)

Word Count: 700

Summary: You ask Flip to be more dominant with you. He obliges.

It’s been weighing on you, this thing that you’d like to tell Flip. He’s a kind man, a gentleman, and you know deep down that even if he doesn’t want to do what it is you’re going to ask of him, he’ll still be sweet about it. He’ll still love you, because his love is unconditional. You hope it is, at least . . .

He gets home around ten, which is considered early for him, and you approach him. Flip smiles when he sees you, then leans down to slip his boots off as you walk up to him. 

“Hey, baby,” he says. “How’s my best girl?” 

There it is. That gentlemanly-ness that has always both aroused you and frustrated you at times. 

“I’m good, honey,” you say, putting your hands on his chest. He can tell immediately that there’s something you want to say, and he puts his hands on your hips, pulling your body flush against his. 

“What’s on your mind, pretty girl?” Flip asks, his hands wandering down to your ass so he can give it a squeeze. You reach forward, cupping his crotch gently. 

“I have a request,” you say, smirking softly to hide your nerves. Or, rather, your eagerness and excitement to hear what he says. 

Flip hums, kissing you a few times. 

“Tell me.”

You rub his crotch, pressing a bit more firmly. 

“I want you to be more . . . I don’t know . . . Aggressive with me,” you say, staring up at him as you touch him. He seems surprised, or interested at least, and you offer him a small smile. “If you’d be comfortable with that–”

Flip tugs you forward, then pins you against the wall by the front door with a bit more force than he would normally use. Your breath catches in your throat. 

“Like that?” he asks, voice low. You nod. “Use your words.”

“Yes, Flip,” you breathe, nodding again. “Like that.”

He looks you over for a moment before pressing his hand between your thighs. 

“I wanna taste you,” he says firmly. “Pants and underwear off. Get on the couch.” 

You hurry to listen, pussy throbbing with arousal. As you do this, Flip unbuckles his belt, tosses it to the floor, unzips his jeans, and pulls his cock out. He strokes himself as he steps towards you, a new-found wave of neediness hitting him when he sees the way you’re looking at him. 

“Good girl,” Flip tells you as you spread your legs for him. He settles between them, observing the way your entrance clenches and unclenches out of desperation for a moment before he leans in to lick up your wetness. 

You groan, hands instinctively moving down to tug and grip at his hair. He grunts into your pussy, then says: “Mm. So wet for me. You needed me bad, hm?” 

You nod even though he can’t see you, then mumble out a soft, “Y-Yes!” 

“Dirty girl needed me all fucking night, hm? Were you thinking about this?” he asks. You groan in response. He smacks your thigh. “Answer me.” 

“Yes, Flip, mmm . . . W-Was thinking about you a-all fucking evening . . .”

Flip reaches down to touch himself as he eats your pussy, and he sighs shakily before resuming his actions.

“F-Fuck, gonna cum–” 

“Ask for permission,” Flip says, cutting you off, and you have to tighten your core in order to not climax right then and there. He sucks at your clit harder. “Go on. Ask me. Beg me.”

He’s so into this, so into you, and–

“Please! Please, c-can I cum?” you ask, hips stuttering as you hold off your orgasm. 

“Mm, mhm,” Flip hums, looking up at you. “Cum for me, pretty girl.”

You let go, not needing to be told twice as your orgasm crashes over you. 

“S-Shit! Fuck, Flip!” you groan, pushing your hips up against his mouth. He takes you through you orgasm, then looks up at you as he leans up and kisses you firmly. 

“I’m gonna fuck you,” he breathes. “And you’re gonna take it like a good girl. Understand?” 

You nod quickly. 

“Yes. Y-Yes, Flip. Please . . .”

Taglist: @safarigirlsp @cinnamon-girl01 (Let me know if you'd like to be added!)

#rynwritesstuff #adcu #adcu author #adcu fic #adam driver #adcu fanfiction #flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman x y/n #flip zimmerman x you #flip zimmerman x yn #blackkklansman adam driver #adam driver blackkklansman #blackkklansman fanfiction #blackkklansman

[strawberry-whorecake]

Routine | F.Z.

pairing: Flip Zimmerman x fem!reader

summary: Flip knew better than to feel the way he did about you-- Chief Bridges' daughter-- but he couldn't help himself. When it came down to it, he was nothing more than a man, and you were a gorgeous woman... what the chief didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

word count: 2.6k

warnings: age gap (reader is of age), slight power dynamic, PinV sex, fingering, unprotected sex, public sex (kinda??), almost getting caught, swearing, dirty talk, praise, degrading

A/N: aaaaaaaahhh my first smut on here- god i hope its good... pls let me know your thoughts all feedback is greatly appreciated !! Plot credit goes to direnightshade on AO3 from their "Flip Zimmerman Prompts" collection, i read it and was immediately obsessed and needed to turn it into a fic so full credit goes to them!!

Flip could tell you were around from a mile away. Everybody from the detectives to the officers perked up when you were around, even if it was forced.

"Afternoon Ron, hey! Cool shirt, super fly." you giggled. "Hey Jimmy," your eyes fell on him, "Flip."

He nodded his head, gently clearing his throat as he straightened up, "Afternoon." His gaze drifted down your frame, moving from your eyes, down the fabric of your dress before he found himself looking at the plush of your thighs just beneath the hem of your dress.

He forced his eyes to the case file in his hands, only indulging himself when you turned away to head into the chief's office— watching as your hips would sway with every step you took.

Flip hated when you came into the station, or more specifically, he hated the thoughts he had when you came into the station. He hated the way your perfume lingered in the air even when you were no longer in the room, and that utterly gorgeous smile you were always so keen on flashing him.

But most of all, he hated the way his jeans felt entirely too tight when you were around and the way he couldn't contain his excitement to catch you alone because he knew what would always follow.

He listened intently as your fist rapped on the door, getting the okay from the chief the door creaked open and you greeted yourself as you entered. "Hi Daddy! You forgot your lunch again." The rest of your conversation got muddled over the chatter from the office, and Flip begrudgingly focused his attention back on the case file.

"No problem, I'll see you back at home!" Flip caught your goodbyes and hopped up, file under his arm as he swiftly exited the office accidentally—purposefully— bumping into you as you closed the chief's door behind you, unabashedly pressing his hips to your ass.

"Oh! I'm sorry!" you immediately apologized in a sickly sweet tone as you turned to face him, even though it was completely Flip's fault. "Oh, no, that was my bad." he shook his head softly. His heart pounded against his chest as you bid him one of your award winning smiles, seeing the relief wash over you that it was only him. "So how's detective's work treating you, Flip?"

He eyed you for a moment, he was certain you surely weren't interested in hearing about his job. He knew what you were more interested in, and he was more than willing to indulge you. Just being so close to you he couldn't contain himself. "You ever seen the records' room?" he asked.

Your brows raised as your eyes widened, and you peered over both of your shoulders. "There's no polite greetings with you, is there?" A smirk pulled on Flip's mouth as you scoffed a laugh, "You make a habit of dropping off your dad's lunch once a week, the outcome always ends up being the same."

He reached around you, pushing open the door to the record's room. He didn't speak, but his brows raised, urging you in. To his relief the room was empty. He watched as your hips swayed again, walking in front of him into the room, he could hardly wait to dig his fingers into the skin of your thighs.

You stopped halfway in the room, beckoning him with your finger. He risked a quick glance over his shoulders before stepping in and shutting the door behind him. He tossed the file haphazardly on the desk, grabbing you by the waist and pinning you against the back of the door. You gasped as his lips crashed into yours. This was routine with you two, but his force never not managed to take you by surprise.

He wasted no time running his tongue along your bottom lip, begging for entry into your mouth which you happily granted him. He sloppily explored every area of your mouth with his tongue, pressing his hips into yours as you whined into his mouth.

Your hands clutched at the fabric of his flannel as his fingers ran up and down your sides. He teased at the hem of your dress before running a thick finger over your clothed slit, making you moan against his lips.

“Flip…” you whimpered as he pulled away from your lips to place open mouthed kisses down your neck, his fingers continuing to tease your clothed cunt.

“Shh… you don’t want anyone to know what we’re up to in here, do you?” He hummed against your neck as he pulled away enough to look up at you, watching as your teeth clamped down on your lip to conceal the sounds of your pleasure— much to his annoyance as he wanted nothing more than to hear make those beautiful little noises and listen to you scream his name as he made you feel so good. When you shook your head he hummed again, “Good girl.”

His lips found their way to that spot in the crook of your neck that made you purr like a kitten when he caressed it with his tongue. Your fingers grazed upward and tangled around his neck, clutching at the raven waves of his hair. When you tugged gently on his strands he let out a low groan, pressing his hips into yours again, and allowed himself to sneak his fingers into the waistband of your underwear.

“Fuuuck…” he groaned, pulling away from your neck. “Am I the one who makes you this wet?” he teased, running his index and middle finger between your folks and gathered your slick. He looked up to your eyes, intimidating you as he watched you bite harder on your lip and timidly nod your head.

He leaned in, pressing his face close to yours as he whispered in your ear, his voice gruff that he nearly growled his words, “What would the chief think knowing his perfect little girl is such a little slut?”

As he spoke he sheathed his index finger inside you, making you mewl, which he quickly covered up by smashing his lips to yours and swallowing down your moans. 

He pumped his finger in and out of you, stretching you out on his thick digit, “Always so tight…” he groaned, pressing his lips against your neck again, finding that spot once again. "We're gonna have to work you up to fitting me... you know that."

Your fingers gently scratched at his scalp and he groaned against your skin. He couldn't wait to get you on his cock but he knew he'd split you in two if he let his fervor get the best of him. He pulled away from your neck, studying your face as he inserted another finger.

He watched in awe at the way your eyes pinched shut, brows knitting together as he felt your walls clamp around him. He curled his fingers, hitting that sweet spot that made your thighs tremble and you whined out for him again, making him press his lips to yours to stifle your noises.

His tongue sloppily prodded against yours, groaning softly as you whimpered into his mouth, using his fingers to beckon your orgasm closer— his dick fighting with the tightness of his jeans as he bucked his hips into yours again, desperate for friction.

"Flip- please... n-need you..." you whined. Flip huffed, "Needy little thing, aren't you?" He mumbled against your jaw. "Tell me what you want."

"You-" you squeaked, suddenly shy. His fingers dragged slowly out of your cunt drawing a moan out of your throat as he smirked. "No, use your words." He plunged his fingers back inside of you, making you gasp and speak hurriedly, "Your dick! I need your dick inside me!"

His smirk broadened. "Good girl."

Flip loved knowing how he drove you to this state. Your father of course would have Flip's head if he knew the truth— knew that once a week he found every excuse to bury himself deep inside your cunt, that he was whoring out the chief's daughter, but god, could Flip only look forward to your weekly meetings.

He withdrew his fingers, making you whine at the loss of contact. Flip couldn't stop himself from chuckling at your desperation as he pulled you by the waist deeper into the records' room. The clack of his belt buckle coming undone between the aisles of boxes made your need for him grow incredibly.

You watched as he pulled out his cock, his tip angry and red, leaking precum, just as desperate for you as you were for him. You moaned at the sight of him taking himself in his hand and spreading his precum along his length— and much louder than Flip's comfort level. He clamped his free hand over your mouth, "You've got to be quiet, you want the whole station to know you're such a little whore for me?" he studied your expression as you shook your head.

He withdrew his hand and hiked up your dress, grabbing hold of your thigh, and pinning it to his waist as he slid your panties to the side. You pinched your eyes shut preparing for the bittersweet sting as he aligned himself with your entrance. "No- eyes on me." he ordered.

You obeyed, opening your eyes and looking into his as he sheathed just the tip of his dick inside you. It took all of his self restraint to not plunge completely into you, split you open, and god knows the way your walls squeezed and drew him in he wanted to more than anything, but he offered you the decency of allowing you to adjust to his thick size.

"Fuck-" he groaned, "even your sweet little cunt is so needy for me." You whimpered at his words, trying to grind yourself deeper onto him.

With your okay he finally thrust himself in fully, he watched again as your brows knit and your perfect lips fell open into the most adorable 'o' shape. He fought every urge to pull out and slam back into you, and he occupied his time with your neck again, trailing more sloppy kisses on your skin.

He growled lowly as he withdrew from you, slowly sliding his way back inside of you. He thrust inside you a few times, your eyes fluttering shut at his movements. He didn't mind, he was too preoccupied watching his cock slide in and out of your perfect pussy. He loved the way you swallowed him up— took all of him flawlessly. He often indulged himself with the thought that your cunt was made just for him.

"Flip-" you whimpered. His eyes flickered up to meet yours, looking over your expression once again. His fingers dug into the plush of your thigh, leaving small crescent-shaped indents in your flesh as he hiked your leg up.

"Jump." he instructed. You furrowed your brows in confusion, but his expression didn't let you linger on the feeling as you wrapped your arms around his neck and he hoisted you up, wrapping his elbows under your knees— pinning you against the shelf behind you.

At this angle, Flip was able to bury himself impossibly deeper inside you, prodding the firm, silky surface of your cervix with his tip. He groaned, burying his head in the crook of your neck as he rocked into you. You were barely legible, descended into nothing but gasps for breaths and moans as he slammed his hips into yours.

He pulled away from your neck, looking into your eyes, "I want you to look at me when you cum, do you understand?" He searched your gaze hungrily, he needed to watch you as you came undone, needed to watch the way your chin would tremble and your brows would knit so tightly together. You nodded, unable to speak with the way he filled you so full.

His size alone was sending you reeling toward bliss, that tight knot in your stomach growing incredulously tighter with every thrust. The only sounds were the obscene noises of skin slapping together and the moans spilling from your throat until the door creaked open.

You gasped as Flip's head flew in the direction of the door, holding you up astonishingly with one of his strong arms as the other flew to clamp over your mouth. He leaned in closer, hissing a silent warning to you.

The footsteps grew nearer and he knew he should've immediately stopped— but he couldn't find the restraint to. He balanced you between his arm and the shelf as he withdrew his hips before thrusting in again, clamping his hand down tighter over your lips as you breathed hotly against his palm. You wanted to make him stop, the fear of being caught too overwhelming, but fuck, was the threat only turning you on more.

His eyes looked into yours warningly as he withdrew his hand, lowering it to your clit where he began to draw tight, quick circles. You bit down on his shoulder, not trusting yourself enough to not moan out as he continued pounding inside you, his pace growing frantic.

He kept his face close to yours, his own breaths growing ragged as he tried his damnedest to breathe out of his nose to stifle his own groans that bubbled in his throat.

Flip couldn't decide if he was relieved or disappointed when the footsteps descended and the door opened before shutting again— leaving the two of you alone.

"Fuck-!" He groaned into your shoulder, his fingers drawing sloppier circles around your clit as his hips began to stutter. "F-Flip-" you panted out, "I-I’m-"

He nudged your cheek with his angular nose, making you look at him. "Remember the rules- look at me while you cum on my cock." he huffed. You bit down on your lip as you nodded, his eyes glued to your expression behind his own furrowed and focused brows. Your mouth fell into that perfect 'o' once more, and you could barely keep your eyes on him as your back arched and he watched you fall apart before him.

He watched as your perfect eyes rolled back, his hips and fingers never stilling as they worked you through your orgasm. Your walls stroked him, pulling him closer to his own ecstasy. "F-Fuck-!"

He buried his face in your shoulder, erupting in expletives and groans as your cunt throbbed around him, milking him, your fingers digging into his shoulder blades. "Fuuuck..." he huffed once more as he buried himself as deeply inside you as he could, spilling his release.

He felt your thighs tremble and he quickly brought his arm to steady you once again as he pumped his hips a few more times, finishing off his high despite your small whimpers of protest in overstimulation.

He pulled away from your shoulder, unsheathing himself from you as he carefully lowered you to the ground, supporting your wobbling legs with a strong grip as you both fought to regain your breaths.

He created a little bit of distance from you as he tucked himself back into his pants, watching as you straightened your own clothing out. When your eyes met his he swept back in, colliding his lips to yours.

You pulled away from the kiss first, much to Flip's disgruntlement. "We should go... that was already a close enough call." You spoke breathlessly, still working on steadying your breath. He sighed, running a hand through his hair before nodding. "Yeah, I'll make sure it's all clear."

He turned out of the aisles knowing you were following close behind him. He peered through the hazy glass looking for a sign of anyone— which thankfully the hall seemed to be deserted. With a gulp of a breath he pulled open the door.

With no one around he beckoned his hand, watching as you slipped past him out the door. He watched once more as your hips swayed with every step, a smirk curling on his lips again.

"Same time next week?" He called, making you spin around on your heel to shoot him a warning glare. His smirk broadened as he bit down on his tongue. "See you then, Bridges."

#adcu #flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman x reader #adcu fanfiction #adcu smut #adcu x reader #flip zimmerman smut #flip zimmerman x you #adam driver #smut #whorecake fics

[safarigirlsp]

Happy Fuckin’ Birthday

Happy Fuckin' Birthday

Flip Zimmerman x Lawyer Reader

Word Count: 8.2k

Warnings: NSFW. Smut. Angst, maybe? Comedy. Abuse of process. Hazing Flip for his birthday, as one should. Birthday pranks. Bitchy Reader. If you want a sweet, submissive, shy reader, my fics are never for you xD

AO3 Link

A little birthday celebration for Scorpio season! I had this written timely on November 19, but just forgot to post it. Whoops!

Turning forty wasn’t something Flip Zimmerman was overly excited about. It had nothing to do with the usual dramatics and neuroses that plagued most people. He didn’t have any deep regrets in life; he hadn’t taken any stupid turns or failed to seize any major opportunities; he didn’t have a ‘one that got away’ – the things in life that can add up to a mid-life crisis or make a man dread the passage of years. He had the woman he wanted, the job he wanted, and for the most part, the life he wanted. Flip didn’t give a damn about the number of candles on his cake. What annoyed the hell out of him was the production everyone else in his life had to make over it. That might rank as one of his bigger regrets in life, telling people close to him when his damn birthday was. His birthday would be a perfectly fine day, if no one else knew about it.

To Flip, his birthday was just another day on the calendar. But could everyone else in his life ever treat it that simply? Fuck no.

Flip never took the day off for his birthday. He immediately lost respect for any man who did that. Women got a pass with such frivolous and indulgent things, but men had no business pampering themselves like candy asses. This year was poised to be a little extra good for Flip since his birthday fell over a weekend. He could guiltlessly spend it exactly how he wanted, which was also how he’d spend every other day of his life if he was free from all financial, vocational, and social obligations. Flip wanted to spend his birthday weekend hidden away in his cabin, sleeping, eating, and fucking just as much as he wanted, and not doing a damned thing else or talking to a damned person other than his girl.

So far, Flip’s birthday weekend had been precisely what he wanted. Starting Friday night, he had gotten his birthday wish in quantities sufficient to appease all his ravenous hungers. Saturday had been the same, and it had been glorious. He had put on a damn fine show for his girl, if he did say so himself. He figured it was the best way to demonstrate he was a vigorous man in his prime, not a doddering old bastard. Flip had allowed his lady to finagle him into sharing a steaming hot bath with her after dinner to break up the pattern. He didn’t want to admit how good it felt on his aching muscles. Even though it was only due to all the extra use over the past two days, or rather, due to the gross lack of use during the other days of the year, Flip knew his sore muscles would be used against him on his fortieth birthday. All the running and weightlifting in the world wasn’t really the same as the workout a man gets from a marathon between the sheets. He knew he was in for a generous ration of shit for his birthday, not least of all from his girl. He’d wonder what was wrong if she wasn’t giving him hell. Still, it was best not to load the guns for her.

Flip defined ‘sleeping in’ differently than most. He had been conditioned by his days in the military to be up before sunrise and ready to meet every battle with the dawn. He felt extremely lazy and indulgent when he let the sunrise wake him as it first peaked over the mountains and into his bedroom window. This attitude was in stark contrast to his wife, who considered mornings in general to be a vile institution and often bitched about how morning people were given entirely too much power in society.

Dawn on Flip’s birthday was one of those crystalline winter mornings where the light was tinted a soft pink-blue-white and frost coated everything in sight like icing on a diamante cake. It had snowed several inches during the night and outside the window, the mountains were gleaming spires, the ground was covered with fresh powder, and the pines wore a layer of snow like fancy ladies swaddled in white mink. Snowy mornings like this were Flip’s favorite kind of morning, when everything was still pristine and sparkling with promise. Before any bullshit settled in.

Groaning contentedly, Flip stretched as the sunlight danced across his face. He was still a little sore in all the places he wanted to be, and he was rock hard and ready for a proper good morning.

So far, forty felt great.

Half asleep, he turned and nuzzled his nose into the soft warm body lying curled next to him. A soft, warm, furry body. Grumbling and pulling his face away, Flip opened his bleary eyes and glared through his disheveled hair at the fat, black cat he had inherited when he had begun living with his girl. Some men have worse step kids to deal with, he reasoned now as the adorable black asshole looked back at him through slitted green eyes, as if she was just as entitled to sleep in his bed as he was. Narrowing his own eyes back at the cat, he asked her, “Where’s your mom at?”

His question was answered by the clanging of a pot on the stove downstairs and a couple choice curses in a familiar feminine voice. Now fully awake, Flip became aware of the scent of bacon, eggs, and pancakes – his favorites – and strong black coffee just how he liked it. This was a rare treat. Flip usually assumed the duty of cooking breakfast on the days they could enjoy it together. Hearing his girl down in the kitchen, slaving away over the stove at such an unconscionable hour, as she deemed it, made him grin at the effort she put in for him.

“Your mom’s a keeper,” he confided to the cat and patted her round belly. “But you’re a sorry little porker.”

Flip stretched again and ran a hand through his unruly hair. He thought he should brush it before going downstairs, but he knew how she liked it when he looked a little wilder than usual. She liked him best when he smelled fresh from a shower but looked unbrushed, unshaven, and what he thought was mildly unkempt. Women are nonsensical creatures, he had realized early in his dating career. He damn sure needed to brush his teeth and wash his face though. He pulled on the pair of jeans he wore the day before and the flannel shirt he had thrown across the room the night before, only bothering to button two of the center buttons. The phone he’d left in his jeans pocket buzzed insistently against his ass.

Should have turned the fuckin’ thing off, he lamented as he retrieved it and saw the tirade of missed calls. He knew what all those calls meant. But as long as he ignored them, he had plausible deniability, as the bloodsucking lawyers say. As his girl would say. He lost his phone; his battery died; service is bad out at his place; his wife threw it at his head and it broke against the wall.

Against his better judgment, and because it was Stallworth calling and Flip didn’t feel right about ignoring his best friend, he answered.

“What,” Flip grunted, leaving no doubt as to his feelings over this intrusion. He thought to himself, This is the beginning of a bad fuckin’ day.

“Good morning to you too,” Ron said in his easy, affable tone. “It’s a beautiful day out, isn’t it?”

“I have a feelin’ I’m not gonna think so after you tell me why in the hell you’re calling.” Flip walked sullenly to the bathroom while Stallworth ran through some pleasantries. Thankfully, he didn’t lead with Happy Birthday. Flip would have hung up on him. Flip lifted the toilet seat and unzipped his jeans.

“We just got a big break in that jewel heist case. Actually, I did. On a stakeout last night,” Ron said proudly, then paused. “Are you taking a piss while I’m talking to you?”

“We’d both be happier if you weren’t talkin’ to me, but you called,” Flip muttered and flushed the toilet. He held the phone toward the bowl so Stallworth could hear the rush of water, mimicking Flip’s interest in the matter.

“You’re a barbarian, you know that?” Stallworth laughed despite himself.

“Flattery don’t do it for me,” Flip said as he ran the sink, letting the water warm. He noticed four angry red scratches on the side of his neck from his girl’s fingernails and felt a rush of pride. “Go out and catch your jewel thief and take all the glory. Girls love that shit.” He splashed his face with hot water and lathered it with his soapy hands. “I’ll read all about your heroics in the paper.”

“It’s not that simple,” Ron said regretfully. “We need you on this one. You know I wouldn’t be calling if we didn’t.”

“I’m off. It’s a Sunday. And it’s,” he just stopped himself from saying my fuckin’ birthday. “Too fuckin’ early.”

“You think I like being the guy who has to roust the bear out of his cave?” Ron tried to joke to his entirely unreceptive audience. “We need you. Get dressed and get your ass out here.”

“God damnit.” Flip hung up and shoved his phone back in his pocket. Oh yeah, it’s gonna be a great day, he thought. Aloud, he grumbled to his reflection in the mirror, “Happy fuckin’ birthday, you old bastard.”

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

A scalding droplet of bacon grease jumped from the sizzling cast iron pan to land on your exposed thigh, making you cuss under your breath as you quickly wiped it away. You were always extra prickly in the morning. Flip deserves a nice birthday breakfast, you reminded yourself and inhaled deeply, deep enough to force a good mood down your throat along with the chilly morning air. Also in honor of his birthday, you opted for a casually sexy look as opposed to something more comfortable like pajama pants and a tank. You wore only one of his favorite shirts, worn until it was soft as velvet, and slippers. Early on you had realized he liked that look on you and something about seeing you in his clothes appealed to his innate possessiveness.

It was chilly inside the cabin, save for the heat from the stove. On cold winter mornings like this the little cabin furnace had to work overtime just to keep the pipes from freezing. To really get the temperature up in the cabin, a fire needed to be lit in the living room fireplace, but you were not that ambitious before sunrise and would leave it to Flip.

As you thought of him, you heard the wooden stairs creak and knew he was descending them. His footfalls were always light, he moved agility for such a large man. You pretended not to hear him and moved to the side of the stove, leaning forward in a provocative invitation under the guise of fiddling with the coffee maker. Predictably, Flip took the bait and wrapped his arms around you from behind, pressing his chest against your back and molding his body against yours. But his arms enfolded you chastely around your waist and his hands didn’t roam higher or lower to seek out their favorite places.

“Happy birthday, old man,” you purred, rubbing your ass back against him. You felt he was wearing jeans and turned inside his arms to face him. He was fully dressed, right down to his boots. “You’re violating your own self-imposed dress code, or rather lack thereof, for this weekend.”

“I have good news for you, sugar,” Flip told you with a grin and kissed you deeply. “You get to sleep in today after all.”

“You mean after we succumb to a food and orgasm coma in a couple hours?” You grinned back. “I’d call that a nap, but suit yourself.”

“I got a call,” Flip started.

“We agreed no phones this weekend!” you cut across him, instantly bristling. “That was your rule. I have a big trial Monday and I’ve been ignoring my phone for a day and a half already. You better be joking.”

“You of all people know rules are made to be broken,” Flip tried again, still maintaining his grin that now looked moronic to you.

“I’m sore everywhere from you wanting to act like a horny teenager all day yesterday.” You raised a dangerous eyebrow. “I got up when it was still dark to freeze in your kitchen and get burned by grease to cook for you on your birthday, and you’re taking calls?” Your voice had dropped an octave and sounded deceptively calm. Flip knew these were very bad signs.

“I didn’t even take my phone out of my pocket yesterday. Ron caught me off guard this mornin,’” Flip used a reasoning tone, like he would when talking to a jumper. It didn’t help your darkening mood. “But listen, there’s been a big break in that jewel heist Ron and I’ve been workin.’ He got a tip, a hot tip, on where we can catch the bastard. But it’s tonight.”

“And Ron needs you to hold his hand for this escapade?” you asked testily.

“Well, he’s still a little green on things like this.” Flip rubbed the back of his neck and looked at the floor. He always did that when he was in trouble, like a grounded boy trying to look contrite. “I can eat breakfast real quick with you before I go.”

“Real quick?” you laughed sarcastically. “Just what every girl wants to hear?”

“How about I eat somethin’ else before I head out.” He winked at you, trying his best to lighten your mood.

“Yes, I’ve always loved the wham, bam, thank you, ma’am approach.” You glared at him. “How long will you be gone?”

“Well, I have to go in now to go over everything and get briefed before I go out to nab the bastard.” Knowing he was digging his hole deeper, he muttered the next confession. “And it’s at some fancy party down at the Broadmoor tonight. They figure I’d be better to walk in there and get the job done. That reminds me, I’ll need you to pick out a nice suit for me.”

“Let me make sure I understand you correctly.” You stepped away from him, beyond arm’s reach. “You’re leaving me alone today – on your day off, on a weekend, on your birthday – to go out to a swanky party at the Broadmoor while I wait here until you decide to show up again?” You raised your eyebrows. “And then, let me guess – when you get home, late, I’m sure, you want me to feed you dinner and fuck you all night again. Or will you have eaten dinner at your soiree?”

“Sugar, you know I can’t control the timing of these things,” Flip said regretfully. “Breakfast looks great. You look delicious. I don’t want to leave, you know that.” He shook his head and asked exasperatedly, “What do you want me to do?”

“It’s your birthday.” You crossed your arms over your chest and narrowed your eyes. “So, it’s your choice.”

Flip had been in enough life and death situations to know he was approaching one now. But he didn’t have much choice. “I have to go in. But I’ll be as quick as I can and I’ll see you tonight. I’ll make it up to you tonight, sugar.”

“This is such bullshit, Flip.” You were fully angry now. Flip knew he was going to be in trouble for a while. “I blew off my responsibilities to let you fuck me as much as you wanted this weekend, and what do I get? You blowing me off to run out and try to catch some petty thief? What happens if you don’t catch this guy today? You have no personal consequences. If I screw up at my job, I lose business and lose actual income, and still, I’ve been blowing off my duties for you this weekend. But you have to strut out to make an arrest now, just so you can dick wave.”

“C’mon, darlin,’” Flip pleaded, holding his arms out, as if you’d run into them. “It’s not like that.”

“No, it’s exactly like that.” You shook your head and shoved past him toward the stairs. “If you’re going to work today, so am I. I have a hearing to prep for, and at least I can bill three-fifty an hour. I’ll be late too.” You paused at the bottom of the stairs to twist the knife a little more. “Since you let these criminals interfere in our lives, maybe I’ll take your thief’s case pro bono after you arrest him and get him off in court instead of getting you off in bed.”

“Calm the fuck down!” Flip lost his temper and instantly regretted it. He calmed his own voice and added, “It’s not that big of a deal. Quit pullin’ your lawyer shit on me.”

“Are you having a senior moment? You must be getting old, after all,” you snapped and stormed up the stairs. “Don’t worry. Maybe we’ll celebrate your birthday next year.”

“You don’t think you’re overreacting just a little?” Flip asked foolishly.

“Not just yet, I’m not.” Halfway up the staircase you turned, pulled off a slipper, and threw it across the room at him. Flip ducked just in time to avoid a perfectly aimed headshot.

“You missed!” Flip bellowed triumphantly then added a cocky laugh.

You didn’t miss your second shot. You whipped your other slipper with more sting, sending it flying right into his chest with a satisfying whap. Then you turned on your heel and trotted up the stairs.

“Love you, sugar!” Flip shouted sarcastically after you. His face was hot and the thick vein in his neck pulsed angrily.

“Happy fucking birthday!” You slammed the bedroom door.

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

The drive into the station seemed longer than usual, possibly because Flip spent the better part of it grinding his teeth and strangling the steering wheel in a white-knuckled death grip. He was not at all amused when Stallworth met him at the station door holding a cane.

“Take it easy, old guy,” Stallworth said, offering him the cane. “Need a hand getting to your desk?”

“You’ll need a hand pullin’ that cane out of your ass if you don’t get it out of my face.” Flip shoved past his friend and made his way to his desk, waving off several other old jokes and happy birthdays. His menacing glare would be enough to make strangers piss their pants. Sadly, his co-workers at the station knew this was mostly posturing and it did little to deter them.

Chief Bridges was waiting for Flip at his desk, leaning against it intrusively. He wore a shit-eating grin and said with every indicia of seriousness, “Forty, huh? You know what that means, Zimmerman. It’s time to re-take your firearms training. Maybe driving too. Make sure you’re not slipping as an old man. A man’s aim is the first thing to go.”

“Fuck you,” Flip growled irritably. “I’m in better shape now than I was in my twenties.”

“It’s worse than I feared.” Bridges grinned. “Sometimes, the mind goes first.”

“Forty’s not all that old,” Stallworth came to Flip’s defense. “For a tree or a tortoise.”

“Don’t let me catch you trying to get little blue pills off any trafficking suspects.” Bridges waved a finger at Flip. “I’ve had to write up more old farts for that in this department than you want to know.”

“Not one of my complaints.” Flip smirked. “You sound like you have some personal experience in that department, Chief.”

“I’m glad you’re a cocky sonofabitch, Zimmerman. And a ladies man. It makes this part of the job a helluva lot more fun for me,” Bridges said and Flip’s smirk melted away. “A ladies man is just what the doctor ordered for this sting. Turns out our jewel thief is a broad! Can you believe it? Word says she’s going to the event at the Broadmoor tonight and she’ll be wearing a black dress. All you have to do is sidle up to her, blow whatever smoke up her ass you need to, and get her to waltz right out of the party with you and up to the room we have setup. Stallworth will be there to help make the arrest in case you need backup. You think you’ll need a hand putting handcuffs on a woman once you get her into your bedroom?”

“I can’t fuckin’ do that and you know it!” Flip exclaimed angrily, on the verge of shouting. “I’m already in deep shit with the little woman over comin’ in at all today, and you think I’m gonna go out to a party and then bring some floozy back to a hotel room? I’ll do stupid things in the line of duty, but that’s a death sentence. No fuckin’ way.”

“Scared of a dame, are you, Zimmerman?” Bridges poked.

“I’m scared of the one I have at home,” Flip huffed indignantly. “I’d be a fool not to be. She’d string you up right alongside me, Chief. Find someone else. Ron’s single.”

“Our thief’s a tall gal. A woman won’t be interested in a man who’s shorter than she is, now will she? You’re the only man in the department who’ll be taller than her in heels.” Bridges looked at Stallworth and shrugged. “There’s a height requirement on this ride, and Ron’s several inches too short.”

“Just put a tail on her and grab her when she goes to the ladies room,” Flip suggested. “Easy.”

“If you haven’t noticed, the CSPD has been written up in the paper about once a month this whole year. All you overeager assholes making scenes and causing property damage during arrests,” Bridges chided both men, who had each been featured prominently in various articles. “The last thing I need is some big public scene at the Broadmoor to kick off the holiday season. Do you think this is a fucking negotiation, Zimmerman?”

“There wouldn’t be any negotiation if I told you to shove it up your ass along with my badge and gun,” Flip grunted, thinking that his job was interfering too much in his enjoyment of life.

“What else are you qualified to do? Public relations? Customer service?” Bridges laughed. “Being shacked up with a high-power lawyer the way you are, you should thank me every day for this job. You think a dame like that is gonna want some unemployed grumpy sonofabitch keeping her couch from running away. I got news for you, Zimmerman, cabana boys are about fifteen or twenty years younger than you.”

“Nope, I’ll go over to the dark side.” Flip smirked again. “The Feds have been houndin’ me pretty hard lately.”

“You’re getting to be a crotchety bastard in your old age,” Bridges said dismissively. He patted Flip on the back as he started toward his office. “Quit your bitching moaning and go get the job done. The faster you get it done, the faster you can be back home with your wife.”

“Sometimes I envy those whiny bastards who call in for their birthdays,” Flip groaned to Stallworth when they were alone.

“Too late for that now,” Stallworth said brightly. “Man up.”

“Manning up has never been a problem for me.” Flip glared at him and sat down heavily in his chair.

“What happened there?” Stallworth eyed the scratches you had left on Flip’s neck, pulling his shirt collar back to get a better look. “Are you being abused? Do you need a safe house interview? Was there some animal control problem with a bobcat I missed over the weekend?”

“I guess I’ve still got it,” Flip said proudly.

“Wow, and you left her on your birthday to come down here for me?” Stallworth batted his eyes and teased, “I can’t tell you how much that means to me. I feel like that’s a big step in our relationship.”

“She already calls you my work wife.” Flip shook his head. “Watch your ass, rookie, or there’s gonna be some domestic violence in our relationship.” Flip slumped in his chair, highly unamused and gestured for Ron to get on with it.

“Want me to talk slow when I go over this, old timer?” Stallworth teased, holding the casefile.

“Not in the fuckin’ mood.” Flip glared at his friend, not teasing at all. He snatched the file from Stallworth and slapped it down open on his desk. He was going to get this shit over with as fast as humanly possible. He retrieved a pair of glasses with large lenses and tortoise rims from his shirt pocket, a new addition to his wardrobe. He only recently capitulated to wearing them on occasion. But only for reading. He narrowed his eyes at Stallworth in anticipation. “Not a fuckin’ word.”

Before Flip could take in much on the first page, a commotion from the front of the station drew his attention. An argument and raised voices along with the shuffling of papers, all boded nothing good in a police station. Flip shoved up from his desk and hurried to see the cause of the uproar. Several officers argued with a fat little man who was so short Flip could only see the shiny top of his greasy bald scalp hovering chest level to the average sized officers around him. Dan Goldleaf was a private investigator who served papers in his spare time, one of the lowest forms of ilk to a cop, just above pedophiles and traffickers. Worst of all, the human shitstain worked for most of the defense lawyers in town.

When Flip approached the unruly spectacle, the trollish man excitedly waved the papers in his hand. He was gelatinously fat, and his whole body jiggled with the movement. He flashed a golden smile as he waddled to Flip. He pushed the papers into Flip’s chest and announced, “Here ya go, Zimmerman!” Quick as a ferret, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and snapped a picture of Flip holding the papers in a clenched fist, a deadly glare on his face. Goldleaf straightened to his full height of around five feet and popped the lapels of his brown jacket, crackling a fresh mustard stain. The gaudy gold rings on every fat sausage finger glittered in the fluorescent lights. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

Flip wanted to squish the greasy troll like a slug, but there were too many witnesses for that now. He looked at the crumpled papers he held in his fist and backed to the wall until his back was pressed against it. It kept him from pacing like a caged animal. He had been served with a formal looking document consisting of several pages. The papers had been sent by the law firm of Dewey, Cheatum & Howe. It began with:

CANDICE GOODING,

                        Petitioner,

 Vs.                                                                             

PHILIP ZIMMERMAN,

                        Respondent.

VERIFIED PETITION TO ESTABLISH PATERNITY

            COMES NOW the Petitioner, Candice Gooding, by and through undersigned counsel, Rob Cheatum, and in support of her Verified Petition STATES THE FOLLOWING:

“Christ, it’s a fuckin’ paternity suit from some bitch named Candice Gooding. Says she has a five-year-old kid and it’s mine! She’s comin’ after me for goddamn child support,” Flip gritted through clenched teeth. Every muscle in his body contracted and he shook with rage. He wanted to break something, or at least punch through a wall. He managed to grate out, “I don’t even know this bitch!”

“Candice Gooding,” Stallworth said slowly, enunciating every syllable, as if speaking to an idiot. “That doesn’t ring any bells?”

“It sure as hell doesn’t!” Flip was fuming, his chest flushed hot.

“What else could she call herself?” Stallworth mused, pretending to consider the issue. “Candy maybe?” Slowly, the red flush drained from Flip’s face until he was unusually pale. “Candy Goodie, maybe? Ring any bells now? Wasn’t she an ex-girlfriend some five, six years ago?”

“Motherfucker,” Flip groaned. He suddenly felt very old, as if he had aged a decade on his birthday. He leaned against the wall and knocked his head back against it roughly, as if he could bang some sense into his younger self. “She wasn’t my goddamn girlfriend, and you know it. She was just a slutty little cocktail waitress whose big dream in life was to be a stripper in Vegas where she could make the ‘big bucks.’ She was hot and easy and I fucked her a few times when I was hard up. Big deal. Any port in a storm, you know? Every girl I banged when I was footloose and fancy free wasn’t a girlfriend.”

“Guess you should have used some rubber to weather that particular storm,” Stallworth quipped, studying the papers more closely. “That candy must have been good if you went back for seconds.”

“Fuck you, buddy,” Flip said, really and truly wanting to punch something now.

“Better call your wife,” Stallworth suggested.

A look of pure terror flashed across Flip’s face for an instant before he could mask it. “Don’t you dare call her. Or tell her anything about this at all! Christ, you want to get me killed?”

“She’s a lawyer. Who do you think will be handling this for you?” Stallworth tried unsuccessfully to be helpful.

“Just haul me out back and shoot me now. Get it over with quick.” Flip dropped his head into his hands, shaking his head. “She can’t know a thing about this until I figure it out.”

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

“Hey, Sugar,” Flip crooned into the phone when you answered. “I was thinkin’ that since I have to get dressed up and put on the ritz tonight that you could get all dolled up too like you like and meet me after. I’ll take you out on the town and show you a real nice time.”

“I’m not in the mood,” you said, your tone told him you were far from appeased. “I thought you decided we were working today. And tonight.”

Flip had called while he was changing into his suit, a black one with a button up shirt in a dark shade of charcoal. He realized you had picked out one of your favorites for him that morning and it made him feel even guiltier. A nice suit usually had the effect of making him feel dashing, now it felt like he was dressing for his own funeral. Maybe I am, he thought to himself with a rueful smirk. Aloud, he said, “I know you’re mad as hell, but I promise I’ll make it up to you. I love you, sugar.”

“I’m on the clock, Flip,” you said sternly. “Something you know a lot about, right? We’ll catch up later. Whenever that might be.”

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

On the drive to the Broadmoor Stallworth informed Flip, “I called a clerk I know at the court who can verify the paternity suit on a Sunday. It’s real.”

“It’s like all my birthday wishes are comin’ true.” Flip glared out of the window, particularly eyeing the couples walking down the street, having a much better evening than he was.

Stallworth had informed Flip of all the details of their sting, how the event was in a private room of the Broadmoor, how they had booked a suite under the name of Frank Zeiss, a cover name Flip often used. All Flip had to do was find the mark, lure her up to the suite, and help Ron make the arrest. Flip didn’t even want credit. He wanted to forget everything about this day and pretend his fortieth birthday was limited to the nearly perfect Friday and Saturday he spent with his girl. Before he had to leave on call. Why in the fuck did he have to answer his damned phone this morning?

Flip stopped in at the hotel bar before seeking out the private event room. He needed a drink for this shit. He ordered an Old Fashioned and swirled the tawny liquid around in his glass. He thought of the way you always laughed at him like he was an idiot instead of suave when he tied the cherry stem in a knot with his tongue for your amusement.

As he thought of you, to his horror, you walked into the bar and aimed right for him. Wearing a sultry blue dress that hugged your curves in all the best places, he thought his girl had never looked like more of a knockout. But…

“What the hell are you doin’ here?!” Flip grabbed your arm when you got close to the bar and yanked you to him.

“It’s nice to see you too,” you said with only a hint of warning in your tone.

“I’m glad you’ve retracted your claws a bit from earlier,” Flip said in a quick, agitated voice. “But it’s not nice to see you. Not now, not here.”

“If you’re here looking for someone, shouldn’t you have your glasses on, old man?” you teased.

“Watch it, sugar.” Flip stepped closer to you until your bodies were nearly touching. “This old man was still goin’ strong when you threw in the towel last night.”

“Nice suit.” You ignored him and ran your eyes over his body. “You clean up alright.”

“This isn’t a game.” Flip fought to keep his voice low. “You could get us both hurt.”

“So serious,” you chided dismissively and placed a hand on his chest. It was endearing how nervous he was at the concern for your safety. A bead of sweat ran down from his temple. “Relax, handsome. All you have to do is stand there and look pretty, right?”

“Funny,” Flip said edgily. “Now get the hell outta here and I’ll call you when I’m done. I don’t want to be distracted by you and I don’t want you mixed up in all this.”

“Actually, I wanted to find you sooner rather than later because I got a call from a colleague. It made me think you might be in some kind of trouble.” You watched him closely as you spoke. “Or should I say, opposing counsel. A lawyer named Rob Cheatum.”

Oh, fuck. Flip’s mouth went dry and he fought to keep his expression stern and to give nothing away. “Must be important for him to call you on a Sunday.”

“Actually, he called me Friday after work. But unlike you, I followed the rules you wanted for your birthday and didn’t look at my phone until I was driving in today. That’s when I saw it. He said he’s representing some woman in a case against you.” You looked straight into his eyes. “What the fuck is he talking about, Flip?”

“Sounds like some bloodsucker out to sue the department again,” he deflected unpersuasively. “Isn’t that how you people get in the holiday spirit, by drumming up business?”

“Oh my god, don’t tell me you lost your temper and punched a suspect again,” you sighed exasperatedly. “It gets old seeing your name in the paper.”

“We all know the only animals worse than lawyers are reporters.” Flip looked around, scanning for his suspect. “All the more reason for you to get outta here until I get this thing wrapped up. You don’t want to be included in a cover story with me when I cause a scene at this party, do you?”

“I can see it now.” You spread your hands like a banner. “Grouchy old man snaps at the younger crowd out having fun.”

“I sure don’t love you for your mouth, sugar.” Flip shook his head. He saw a tall woman in a black dress walking purposefully and fixed his eyes on her like a hunting dog. But there were several women in view wearing black dresses. And what was tall, anyway? The woman was probably five-eight, although heels always threw him off. Was that tall enough to be described as very tall? Probably not. Flip had been staring at her while running these mental calculations.

“Like what you see?” you asked, more to poke him than anything. You knew he was here under the guise of working.

“Not particularly. I’d give her a seven at best,” Flip gritted out of the corner of his mouth. “I’ve got a helluva lot better at home.”

“Speaking of, how long until the woman you’ve got at home is going to get some time with you?” you asked.

“Not long.” He shrugged.

“Not an answer, Detective,” you quipped.

Flip knew you only called him Detective when you were feeling flirty or feeling as mad as a wet cat. He knew which this was. Best to remain silent, he concluded.

“You’re here to grab some suspect, a woman, I gather from your roaming eyes,” you accused and Flip’s eyes darted immediately back to you, a little wider than usual. “You’re getting served papers from strange women, too. Is this some half-assed midlife crisis? Is it time for you to embarrass yourself trying to pick up eighteen-year-olds in a new convertible?”

“Whoa, pump the brakes on the crazy train.” Flip held up his hands in surrender. “I’m innocent until proven guilty.”

“Oh, you think this is a democracy?” you scoffed. “I don’t think so. This is a monarchy, and all ways here are the Queen’s ways.”

“I’ll tell you all about it later. I promise.” Flip tried a calming tone that had zero effect. “Just let me find this woman and then we can get outta here.”

“Fine.” You put your hands on your hips.

“Don’t fine me, darlin.’” Flip mocked your posture, also putting his hands on his hips. “I know what fine means.”

“This is ridiculous. I’ll find this damn woman in black myself.” You turned on your heel and walked away.

Flip took a bounding step after you and grabbed your arm roughly, stopping you. “You’re making a fuckin’ scene.”

“Is this guy bothering you, miss?” The bartender asked, a clear warning in his voice.

You looked at Flip’s hand where he gripped your arm and cocked an eyebrow. Flip slackened his grip and you yanked your arm free. You strode purposely through the bar and toward the series of the Broadmoor event rooms. You looked over your shoulder once just to make sure Flip was following you. He was, of course, walking stiffly a few paces behind with his shoulders set and eyes narrowed, looking ready and eager to bust some heads. The hotel was crowded with holiday traffic and you both knew he couldn’t grab you again without making an even bigger scene.

At the door to the private room, Flip caught you again, grabbing the door handle in front of you and pinning you close with his body from behind. To an observer, it might look affectionate but his body was rigid against you and his tone angry, “This isn’t the time or place for you to act like a goddamn prima donna. Knock it off.”

“Just think, all this because you had to answer Ron’s call this morning.” You grinned and before he had time to process the implications of your words, you pushed his hand down on the door handle and leaned into it.

Flip stumbled into the event room right at your back, a little off balance and fuming.

“Surprise!” A chorus of voices shouted inside the room.

Flip was nearly stunned by the cacophony of light and movement and shouting assholes inside the room. He stood, still gawkily positioned mid-stumble, blinking like a deer in the headlights. There were sparkly lights and girly decorations done in black and gold, and a table set with a giant cake and a few buckets of champagne. Music blared noisily from somewhere. All his traitorous friends smiled at him, Stallworth leading the charge of ingrates. Festive lights even shimmered on the greasy dome of Goldleaf’s head. The group of traitors yelled “Surprise!” again and then broke into a terrible round of Happy Birthday. Flip straightened and smoothed a hand over his suit, trying to look dignified while feeling like an absolute jackass for falling for this shit.

There was little Flip hated more in life than surprise parties. He forced a smile and thought that maybe it wasn’t as bad as those times he’d been shot. But no. The first time, he’d gotten some really good drugs. The second time, he got six weeks off and left the hell alone. The third time had given him one of your favorite scars that made him feel even tougher than he was. No, a surprise party was far worse than getting shot.

Flip squared his shoulders and put on his game face, steeling himself to endure a long night of socializing. He pulled you to his side just a little roughly and joined his own birthday party.

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

“That party must have cost a fortune,” Flip bemoaned. “I hope you didn’t foot the bill just to torture me.”

“Not a dime, actually. The owner of the Broadmoor is a client. Or rather, his son on his eighth DWI is,” you said nonchalantly. “He’s innocent, of course. Or rather, he will be once I’m done with him.”

Flip made a noncommittal grunt, still in the throes of post-party-trauma.

“He also threw in a free suite.” You looped your arm through Flip’s and steered him toward the elevators. “I’m sure you’ll like it more.”

The suite was equipped with a private balcony and hottub for guests who liked to enjoy the snowy alpine winters along with a steaming soak and a glass of wine. Flip held the door open for you like a perfect gentleman before slamming it closed behind him after following you inside. He held you at arm’s length when you tried to close the distance between you.

“I need a shower. I’ve been sweatin’ bullets all day thanks to you.” His lips were poutier than usual as he unbuttoned his shirt. Shrugging roughly out of it, he balled it up in his hands and threw it into the furthest corner of the room. Flip paused to glare at the shirt where it landed on the floor and huff a few breaths before storming into the bathroom as he unbuckled his belt. The slam of the bathroom door reverberated through the room when he kicked it closed. He continued to grumble and cuss under his breath inside the bathroom. The few words you could make out seemed to be in vehement criticism of birthdays and surprise parties and pondering the eternal question of just how much bullshit one man can take.

Smiling to yourself at his grouchiness, you decided to wait for him in the hottub on the balcony. Steaming jets and your warm touch would be just the ticket to turn his anger into something a lot more enjoyable for you both. 

As you peeled your own clothes away, you could still hear him bitching from inside the bathroom and it made you grin. The icy air hit you when you stepped naked out onto the balcony. Goosebumps rose across your skin, breath fogged from your lips, and your nipples peaked instantly at the chill as you quickly covered the few steps to the hottub. The crisp winter air made the hot water even more welcoming, and a cloud of steam surrounded you when you lowered yourself into the bubbling water. Leaning your head back against the edge of the hottub, you felt all the tension leaving your body as you waited for Flip. 

“I’m out here,” you called when you heard him emerge. “Come keep me company.”

Flip’s face and chest were still flushed from the heat of his shower when he walked onto the balcony, scowling. Pausing to linger in the doorway, towel slung around his hips, he leaned against the doorframe. He had to fight to keep his face stern as he looked down at your bare curves sitting tantalizingly amid the steam. 

“You’re not bad lookin’ for a double agent,” he told you, sucking at his teeth.

“Evil machinations are much easier when you’re pretty,” you teased and beckoned him to join you with a curled finger. “Don’t just stand there gawking about it, handsome.”

His scowl turned into something far more devilish as he tossed his towel back into the room and lowered himself into the hottub beside you. Slinging one arm behind you along the rim of the hottub, Flip wasted no time in pulling you close. Beside you, he turned to kiss your cheek, to nuzzle his nose softly against your skin along your jaw before he moved his lips to the place below your ear. Inhaling your scent, he began to lose himself in you. His kisses drifted to your neck and turned more biting and heated when you raised your hand to stroke his cheek. 

“I’m sure sorry for takin’ that call,” he mumbled against your skin. 

“Are you?” you asked with a laugh. “We’ll see if you learn anything from it.”

“I’m a quick learner.” Flip couldn’t help but laugh as his hand trailed up your thigh. 

Turning into him, you met his lips while he teased you with his fingers. Flip kissed you hungrily, his lingering anger coming out in his eager tongue licking into your mouth, his teeth clicking against yours, and his thick fingers pushing into you. 

“We’re not done celebrating yet,” you whispered into his kiss. “Your real birthday present is that I took next week off and arranged with the chief to note you as staking out a cabin for the week.”

He laughed when you told him the location, “That’s our address.”

“Is it really?” you feigned ignorance. “I’d call it a paid vacation on the taxpayers. As someone who gets shafted by Uncle Sam almost as often as I get it from you, I see no problem at all.”

“I thought you had work tomorrow?” Flip asked, looking at you with deep lusting respect.

“You thought so, yes,” you teased. “I’m off too.”

“So, you have to put me through the ringer first to earn it, huh?” He nipped your neck.

“Maybe if you weren’t such a grouchy bastard, you wouldn’t invite being screwed with, hmmm?” You twisted your fingers into his hair. “But we’ll never know.”

“A surprise party is playin’ dirty,” he said against your neck. “That’s hittin’ below the belt.”

“Funny thing is that I agree with you.” You tugged his hair sharply enough for it to be a reprimand. “Ron badly wanted to throw you a surprise party for your fortieth. I told him that I was giving you what you really wanted for the weekend, and that you would absolutely hate a surprise party. After a debate, Ron and I agreed that if he could entice you away from me today, he could inflict his surprise party upon you and I’d help lure you into it. It was insultingly easy for him, I might add. I really thought he’d have a harder time. So, I think it’s only fair to make you suffer a little on top of it. Serves you right for leaving me for your work wife.”

“So, you all gang up on me, huh? Wonderful.” He grinned. “You almost gave me a heart attack with that fuckin’ paternity horseshit. You arranged that awfully fast.”

“I thought it was nice icing on the cake,” you grinned back. “How long do you think it takes me to type a paternity petition? Fifteen minutes tops. Goldleaf is always happy to screw with you and so is Cheatum. A good time had by all. And just think, you chose all this.” You gestured grandly to encompass the enormity of the shitshow Flip had gotten himself into, “instead of staying shut in in bed with me all day.”

“I’ll never answer my phone again unless it’s you,” Flip huffed a laugh.

Deciding he had suffered enough for now, you slung your leg over his lap to straddle him. His cock was already deliciously hard and ready for you when you sank down onto him. No matter how many times he fucked you, it was always wonderfully intense before you adjusted to accommodate him. Flip’s hands smoothed down your sides, caressing you gently now before his fingers would grip bruises into you as you rode him. He kissed your neck and rolled his hips beneath you, groaning in that heady way of his when he was losing himself in the pleasure of your body.

The water sloshed in the hottub and steam whirled around you both as he fucked an orgasm out of you and followed you down into a warm, blissful afterglow. After several moments, cock still buried inside of you, he kissed your neck a few final times and raised his head to look at you with a satisfied grin.

“I hope this birthday was one to remember, old timer,” you teased as you moved your hands to rub the knots in his broad shoulders. “Forty’s a big one.”

“I really hate birthdays,” was his only grumbled response. 

“Spoken just like a grumpy old man,” you said amid a fresh stream of soft laughter. 

“Real funny, sugar.” Flip nipped at your skin before pulling you close again for round two. “Happy fuckin’ birthday to me.”

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

© safarigirlsp 2023

Tagging some buddies! 

@babbushka @in-silks-and-flesh-and-leather @mrs-gucci @mrs-zimmerman @iamburdened @gabesprincess @rynwritesstuff @candycanes19 @caillea @cas-backwards-tie @queeniebee @mythrielofsolitude @ghoulian13 @icarusinthesea @reyloaddict55 @fizzywoohoo @heartlight-starlight @richbrittstein @clydesfavoritegirl @thepalaceofmelanie @celiholland @reveluving @vedavan @reylokisses @queen-of-elves @srorgana1 @kyloremus @looking4mymagicshop @lumberjack00fantasies

#birthday bash #best #fic #my stuff! #my writing #flip #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman x you #winter

[ladyinwriting18]

Traditions (Flip Zimmerman x Reader)

Summary: It might be your first Hanukkah with your boyfriend Flip Zimmerman, but you're determined to make it one you both remember.

Words: 4794 Warnings: PIV, Oral sex (female receiving), Sex on Hanukkah. Sex on the kitchen floor.

When you awaken that winter morning, you find that Flip has already left for work. If you're being honest, you’re glad he’s on the early shift, it gives you more time to prepare. You smile to yourself, excited for the surprises you have planned for tonight… The first night of Hanukkah. You’re sure that Flip doesn’t even realize the date, but it doesn’t matter cause you’re doing all of this for him.

After going undercover to infiltrate the KKK, he’s been more drawn to his heritage, though he hasn’t allowed himself to fully dive in. You know it’s because he feels unworthy… After a lifetime of feeling indifferent about being Jewish, he feels like he’s intruding on something that should have been close to his heart from the start. What right did he have to his Jewish roots when others had sacrificed, bled, and stood proudly for them? But to you, there’s no right or wrong way for one to experience their religion. Just because Flip hadn’t grown up going to temple or having a bar mitzvah didn’t mean he didn’t have a right to the Jewish religion now. That’s why you’d done research at the library and the local temple, reading up and asking a rabbi for advice on properly celebrating Hanukkah. You wanted to give Flip this, wanted him to feel comfortable to explore this part of himself. Especially with you. And perhaps, if tonight went well, it would lead to the two of you celebrating Hanukkah again next year. You had done everything in your power to ensure that nothing would get in the way of that. Starting off with ensuring that Flip wouldn’t get stuck working late. A quick call to the chief informing him that not allowing one of his detectives to observe a religious holiday would probably sound really bad to a union representative had sealed that deal. The chief had claimed to enjoy your “spunk” in calling him behind Flip’s back, but either way, he promised to send “your lover boy” home at a decent time. Now came the fun part…decorating and cooking. You hop out of bed and quickly wash up to prepare for the day before heading downstairs. There’s a lot to get done and you’re a mix of nervous and excited. Excited to see his reaction, but nervous to screw things up. You’ve never cooked these recipes before. What if they turn out horrible? You try to shake off your nerves. They won’t stop you now. You would do your best for him and that was it. The first thing you work on is making the dough for the challah bread since it has to rise multiple times before it can be braided and then baked. At least…that’s what the recipe book said. You say a silent prayer before setting the dough to the side to rise, and then you get to work on a less nerve-wracking task—decorating the house. You hang long white fairy lights along some of the walls, drape blue tinsel over the fireplace mantel, and lay out Hanukkah-themed table runners along the coffee and kitchen tables. But you don’t stop there. Multiple candy bowls filled with chocolate gelt and dreidels are placed around the living room, knowing that Flip has a secret sweet tooth. You still aren’t fully clear on the rules of spinning dreidels but you’re certain the both of you could figure it out. That or just enjoy munching on chocolate. Either way, that isn’t the most important part of tonight. After your conversation with the rabbi, you learned that menorahs are usually passed down through families and generations. Knowing that wasn’t an option, you had searched every antique shop in town until you found something perfect—a beautiful brass menorah with the Star of David under the middle candle. You polish it until it shined and place it in the center of the coffee table with white candles. With the rabbi’s help, you had written out the prayer that is traditionally read while lighting a candle each night. Alongside the prayer is a yarmulke, in case Flip wants to wear it. 

With the decorating done, you head back into the kitchen to start on dinner. Following along with the cookbook you borrowed from the library, you fry potato pancakes, otherwise known as latkes, roast potatoes, prep the brisket for the oven, and braid the challah dough. It isn’t long until the entire downstairs is filled with the most wondrous smells. You’re more excited now, certain that the smells are a good sign that the food will be equally delicious. Knowing you don’t have much longer before Flip gets home, you head upstairs to change. You want to look good but not overly fancy, so you decide on a simple black knee-length skirt with a soft, white cashmere sweater, and black, heeled boots. Pleased with how you look, you head back downstairs to finish everything up. You end up cooking until the very last minute, barely having time to plate all of the food before the sound of Flip’s car turning into the driveway. “Shit!” you curse and hurry to put everything out on the kitchen table along with the good china plates and a bottle of wine. The front door opens and you freeze in your spot, wanting him to find the surprise on his own. You listen to the sounds of him making his way inside, taking off his boots and jacket before setting them aside in the hallway closet. He calls your name… Tells you he’s home… Comments on how amazing dinner smells… Then his breath catches in his throat and all goes silent. Flip stands in the entryway of the living room, taking in the scene before him. The room is basked in a romantic, and yet inviting, glow, from the lights to the menorah and the other decorations. He stands there, jaw slack and too stunned to speak. What a lucky bastard he is. “Sweetheart? Get in ‘ere!” You do as you're told without hesitation, but the minute he sees you, he wraps you in his arms. “Babygirl, did you really do this all for me?” You smile up at him and nod. “Happy Hanukkah!” If you wanted to say more, it’s cut off by his kiss. It’s passionate, fiery, and all the things you love about him. “Wait, Flip! Wait!” you protest against his mouth in between giggles. “I have more to show you!” He chuckles in amusement and releases you from his hold but instead takes your hand. “Alright, alright. I’ll behave.” “Good! Now, come on.” You take him into the kitchen and show him all the food you’ve made. “I followed the Jewish cookbook I got from the library exactly, so hopefully everything tastes good!” Flip cocks a brow in surprise. “They actually make Jewish cookbooks?”

“Uh-huh.” You blush, biting your bottom lip to try and stop the word vomit that’s building in your throat. Maybe you had misread the situation or done something offensive. “When…I spoke to the rabbi, he told me that menorahs are usually passed down from generation to generation, but…I know you didn’t have one.” You swallow hard, trying to gauge his reaction but still, you can’t seem to shut the hell up. “The one on the coffee table is an antique. Now you’ll have one forever, to pass on to your children.” You realize what you said a second too late and internally die a little. “That is…if um…you want to.” But Flip isn’t listening, because suddenly, he’s picturing the future. One where a four-year-old sits on his lap to help him light the next candle on the menorah while you watch with your belly filled with a second child. You squeeze his hand, he still seems to be in shock but you can’t be sure. “Is…Is this all okay? Did I…do alright?” 

It’s the uneasiness in your tone that snaps him from his daydreams. He turns to you, cupping your cheeks in his hands. 

He wants to reassure you, but he finds himself overcome with emotion. “I…don’t even know what to say. How did I get so damn lucky?” He tries to laugh to stop the tears that threaten to prickle his eyes. “Thank you…for doing all of this. Thank you for loving me enough to do all of this.” Your lips find one another again, but this time softer than before. His hands hold your face steady as you lovingly kiss. Your arms wrap around his middle, feeling more and more like melted butter by the second. “I love you, Flip Zimmerman. I just wanted you to feel accepted and safe to start your own traditions here with me.” “I do, Babygirl, I do.” He talks in between kisses as if it’s too painful to stop, “God I love you.” The kisses continue until the sound of his stomach growling pulls you apart. “Uh, Darlin’? Can we eat now? All I had was black coffee and cigarettes for lunch.” “Flip!” you scold and lightly smack his upper arm. He shrinks back, pretending to be wounded and holding his hands up in surrender, but all the while, he laughs. You glare at him with your hands on your hips. As wonderful of a boyfriend as he is, he’s still crap at taking care of himself. “Can you wait a few more minutes? We’re supposed to light the candles before we eat.” His laughter dies down, “Wow…you really weren’t kidding about researching this stuff.” His bewilderment and sincerity touch you, causing your hands to drop from your hips. “I had to make sure everything was perfect for your first Hanukkah.” 

“You’re the one that’s perfect,” he states firmly before interlocking your fingers together. “Let’s go light our very first menorah.” Your heart swells at his words and the two of you walk back into the living room. The two of you sit in front of the coffee table where the menorah is set up. You hand him a yarmulke and a piece of paper with a prayer written on it. “The rabbi said this is the prayer to read while you light the candle.” Flip hesitates, not sure if he feels deserving of the honor. He hadn’t been the one who did all this work, you had. As if you can read his mind, you speak up. “If you aren’t comfortable, then we don’t have to. I know there’s a lot of new information here, but we can take it slow and make our own traditions. Don’t let the fact that I became a little overzealous with my research intimidate you. If you want to try this, then I’m right here with you.” Hearing you mention creating traditions together warms him. He leans forward and places a hand on your cheek. “You did more than I could possibly ask for. And yes…I want to try this. Just…don’t make too much fun of me mispronouncing the words in this prayer.” “I wouldn’t be able to tell if you did.” You chuckle and leave a kiss along the inside of his wrist.  Taking a breath, he places the yarmulke on his head and does his best to recite the prayers. He stumbles over a handful of Hebrew words. It makes him feel self-conscious but you just smile reassuringly, nodding at him to encourage him to continue. With the prayer read and the candle lit, Flip takes your hand in his. You sit in silence together, watching the way the flame dances, causing the light to bounce along the walls. His gaze falls on you, his eyes sparkle with happiness at how peaceful you look basked in the candlelight. “I’m guessing tomorrow night, we light the second candle?” You nod before looking back at him. “Should we go eat now?” His back straightens fully at the mention of food. “I thought you’d never ask. My stomach’s been aching for a taste since I walked through the door.” 

You playfully roll your eyes and stand. “Well then, we better go and get you some food. I can’t let my man go hungry.” You take him into the kitchen and tell him to make himself comfortable while you make him a plate filled with latkes, roasted potatoes, and brisket before making your own plate and sitting down. ‘Now, before we eat, you have to–” You hand him another piece of paper with two other prayers. “Read these. The first prayer is meant to be said before we cut the challah and the second before drinking the wine.” Flip reads both, doing so with a bit more confidence than before. A sense of pride fills him at repeating these words that have been said by countless generations of Jews. “That was wonderful,” you praise and then you both begin to eat. You watch him carefully, wanting to gauge his reaction to tasting the food. “Please be honest if something doesn’t taste good and I’ll practice to get better at it.” But the man sitting across from you is too busy moaning blissfully at the flavors filling his mouth. “Shit, babygirl, you’ve really outdone yourself.” You nearly dance in your seat from happiness. “I’m so glad! I was worried it wouldn’t taste good enough.” Flip extends his hand across the table and squeezes yours. “I’m not sure how I got so lucky in finding you, but I’m going to spend the rest of our lives showing you just how much you mean to me.” Tears prickle at the corners of your eyes, beyond the point of euphoria. “Shhh, come on now, no tears. This is meant to be a happy occasion. Hanukkah is about keeping faith and miracles.” You raise a curious brow and he sheepishly chuckles. “You’re not the only one who’s been secretly reading up on the holiday.” The rest of the meal flows effortlessly, the both of you enjoying the food and one another’s company until he sits back in his chair with a contented sigh. It pleases you that you’ve made him so happy, but you have one more surprise for him. From your skirt pocket, you pull out a small black box and slide it over to his side of the table. “Flip?” The sound of his name catches his attention and he looks back to find the gift box. “Little One? What’s this?” “Open it and find out,” you reply in a sing-song voice that has him chuckling. He opens the box and finds a simple gold chain with the Star of David hanging from it. A small gasp of surprise leaves his full lips. He gapes at you, unsure of what to say. “I know you mentioned that you misplaced your old one while you were undercover because you had to take it on and off so much. I hope you like it.” He doesn’t have the words to express his gratitude as a swell of emotion starts to overcome him, so instead, he kisses you—hard. The kiss steals your breath away. So much so that you’re left dizzy. “Thank you, my love,” he whispers hotly against your mouth before sitting back down. Still dazed, you giggle slightly. “You’re welcome. Let me start cleaning up so we can spend the rest of our night relaxing.” Not waiting for a reply, you stand and carry a stack of dirty dishes to the sink.

Flip watches, slipping the yarmulke from his head and putting his gift around his neck before following you over to the kitchen sink. “Can I do anything to help you clean?” 

You brighten at his offer, thankful for the help. “That would be great!” You hand him a dish towel with a cock of your hip. “I wash, you dry?” He agrees and the two of you get to work. Every once in a while, Flip playfully splashes you with sudsy water, laughing every time you huff in irritation. You’re adorable and he just can’t help himself. With the dishes done, you move on to wrapping up the leftovers and even pack some for his lunch tomorrow. “I’m going to be the envy of every guy in the squad room. They're all going to be wishing they had the chance to taste your cooking.” “I can pack you extra to share!” His hands find your hips, lovingly gripping them in his large hands before pulling you forcefully against him so your ass is pressed to his crotch. “Not a chance, Little One. It’s all mine…and so are you.” Without warning, he spins you around and crashes his mouth onto yours. You aren’t sure what’s got him so worked up, but truthfully? You don’t care. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, pulling him in for more. Which he gladly gives by slipping his tongue into your mouth. A tiny moan leaves you from the sensation. Flip grins at the sound. You want more but he breaks the kiss. “Does my girl want more?” You nod, your pupils blown wide as you search his. “Please, Flip.” Your plea is enough for him, so he drops down to his knees before you. Grabbing your skirt, he bunches it up at your waist, pleased to see the damp spot that’s already started to form at the front of your panties. He runs the tip of his finger over it but avoids your clit. “Seems like you have something else for me to eat.” You whimper, now realizing what he means to do. “Hold your skirt up for me. I need my hands free.” You do as you're told but it feels so taboo to be standing here in the middle of the kitchen, exposing yourself to him. But you don’t have much time to think about it because he starts ripping off your shoes and panties. He looks up at you, looking incredibly smug, which only makes your cunt drip more. The moment you're bare, he pushes his nose to the cleft of your cunt, breathing in deep. His groans, eyelids fluttering as his cock jumps within the confines of his jeans. When he speaks again, his voice is quiet but rough, “You’ve done so much for me today. Now, you deserve to be worshiped.” He brings his hands to your ass, gripping it tight and pulling you close so he can drag his tongue through the folds of your cunt. The flat of his tongue makes you whine, your hand reaches for the counter ledge that’s just behind his head while the other keeps ahold of your skirt. “D-Don’t stop. Feels good. Y-Your tongue feels so good!” You're grinding into his mouth now, chasing more pleasure for yourself. Watching you sends shockwaves down his body. His cock throbs in his dark denim, aching for release. He reaches down to unzip his pants, moaning into your cunt as he frees himself. Precum drips from the tip of his cock down onto the floor. His fingers find their way to your slit, slowly pushing one…and then two fingers inside. You cry out, head tilting back as you moan into the ceiling at being stretched out by his thick digits. The legs holding you up begin to shake, but luckily, his other hand holds you at the base of your spine. You look down at him and catch sight of his hard cock, jutting up from the front of his jeans. “Oh. Oh fuck, Let me take care of you, Flip. Let me take care of your cock.”

But he only growls and picks up the pace of his fingers. He doesn’t want to hear your words, he only wants you to cum. The mixture of his tongue flicking at your clit and his fingers filling you up has you forgetting everything else. Your peak steadily starts to roll through you. “Right there! S-So close! I’m so close!” You can barely finish speaking before you’re cumming. The hand that had been holding your skirt shoots out to take hold of the counter, needing it for balance as your orgasm rocks through you. Your skirt falls over Flip’s head, but he doesn’t stop the movements of his tongue and fingers until your body starts to relax. He moans low in his belly at the taste of you, only removing his fingers and sitting back on his heels so he can check on you. Pushing your skirt off his head, he holds your gaze while fucking his fingers clean. Your cheeks burn with color and Flip chuckles with a grin. You just came all over his face while standing in the kitchen and you still have the decency to blush. You’re just too adorable and perfect. He pushes himself off the floor and grabs your face to claim your mouth again. You cling to his shoulders, body molding against his so you can feel his cock pushing against you. You start unbuttoning his plaid shirt, tugging at it aggressively to get him naked. “Take me? Right now. Right here.” “Naughty girl wants to be fucked on our kitchen floor that badly, huh?” You whine at his teasing but go quiet when you realize he’s guiding you both to the floor. He settles between the apex of your thighs, aligning his cock with your sopping hole. You wiggle against him in anticipation. “So needy for it. Here then—take it.” And with that, he plunges inside, groaning at the way your walls hug him tight. He gives you a moment to adjust, your toes curling at how deep even his first thrust is, but that moment doesn’t last forever, and soon he’s picking up his pace. You cry out and Flip revels in the sound. Gripping your hips, he slams into you until he’s certain he’s hitting your g-spot. Your back arches off the tile floor and you screw your eyes shut against the overwhelming pleasure. Usually Flip took his time to work you up to the point of total abandon. Sometimes even edging you so you’d beg, but not tonight. Tonight, he fucks you hard and fast like it’s the last time he’ll ever have the privilege of watching you cum. Your moans are drowned out by wet skin slapping together. Your cunt is so wet that you’ve managed to drip onto his balls and inner thighs. “Look at me,” he commands, using his authoritative ‘cop voice’. You do so and find his eyes blown black with lust and his face flushed with sweat. The sight takes your breath away. He looks positively feral. “I want to watch you fall apart. Want to see your soul leave your body just so it can come crashing back while you scream my fucking name.” 

Your cunt clenches around him at his words. You love it when he talks like this. Filthy and possessive. His nostrils flare as he huffs hot breath across your skin. How he’s able to keep his stamina up is a mystery, but still, his thrusts are unrelenting. You can’t deny how much you love him laying claim to your body. “Yes! Fuck, Flip, yes!” you continue to moan a string of curses and pleas as you wrap your legs around his waist so you grind into his thrusts. With the change in the position of your legs, he too rearranges himself. He places his palms flat on the floor on either side of your head, completely leaning over you and driving his cock even deeper into your aching cunt. You didn’t think he could fill you up any more, but leave it to Flip Zimmerman to find a way. A pressure builds in your lower belly, tightening and threatening to crack open. However, your gift dangling from around his neck comes very close to hitting you in the face. He immediately notices and makes a move to pull back but you’re faster. Your hand reaches and presses the Star of David to Flip’s chest…directly over his heart. “I love you,” you breathe out, holding eye contact with him. “I want this forever. With you.” You swear he whimpers, emotion softening his features but all the while bucking harder into you.

“I want this too. Every Hanukkah. Every year together with you.”

A smile breaks out across your face and you use the chain around his neck to tug him to your mouth.

You both moan into the kiss, movements becoming sloppy.

He stumbles over your name before telling you how close he is. You echo his words back to him, knowing you’re moments away from being driven over the edge.

But that’s not good enough for Flip when he wants you to crash and burn beneath him. He brings one of his arms between your bodies to find your clit and strokes it just right.

Your body starts to shake.

You leave rational thought behind and all that is left is the primal need flowing through your limbs.

“That’s it. Come on baby, cum for me!”

You wouldn’t have been able to stop yourself even if you had wanted to. Your inner walls close in around him as you cum, holding him in place and hugging him tight.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck!” he grunts repeatedly until he’s tossing his head back in a howl and filling you with his cum.

You both rock against one another as you come down from your highs. Eventually, Flip slumps down to rest in the crook of your neck. The kitchen falls quiet except for the panting you’re both doing in an attempt to catch your breath.

He recovers before you and lifts his head to kiss your forehead before meeting your gaze. “You alright, sweetheart?”

You respond with a dreamy ‘uh-huh’, earning you a chuckle from the man still on top of you.

Carefully, he detangles himself from your legs and the heat of your cunt so he can lay beside you on the cool tile floor.

“Mind if we lay here for a bit? You wore me the hell out.” He chuckles and extends his arm so you can rest your head on his bicep.

“Wore YOU out? I’m the one who’s lying on the kitchen floor feeling like jelly.” You only mean to tease but his other arm finds its way around your middle.

With a playful growl, he hauls you to him, smashing your back into his chest. His large hand sprawls across your stomach, tickling you. You squirm, giggling, and look over your shoulder to kiss him.

The kiss halts his movements and instead has him humming against your lips. When the kiss is broken, he turns his attention to the junction of your neck. Pleased that he seems too preoccupied to continue tickling you, you finally rest your head on his bicep and close your eyes.

You relax within his embrace, enjoying the feel of his lips and facial hair as he leaves soft kisses along your flesh.

He whispers your name, causing your eyes to flutter open. You look over your shoulder at him again.

“I want to say thank you for everything you did for me tonight. You could have simply said ‘Happy Hanukkah’ to me and I would have been over the moon…but the fact that you did all this just for me blows me away.”

You can feel tears watering up behind your eyes but you hold them in so you can continue listening to what he has to say.

“And I…meant what I said before about wanting to spend every Hanukkah with you. Well…any holiday really. I want to spend them all together and make our own traditions, like you said.”

You can’t hold back for a moment longer. Twisting in his grasp, you turn over so you’re facing him and throw your arms around his shoulders.

“Oh, Flip, nothing would make me happier!”

He wraps his arms around you, hugging you tightly to him, and whispers that he loves you.

Another calm silence falls between you. To an onlooker, the scene would look peaceful if it wasn’t for the fact you were both half naked, lying on the hard kitchen floor.

But the two of you are too content to care about anything other than snuggling.

Time passes, and within the quiet, a devilish question comes to your mind.

“Flip?”

“Hm?” he responds.

“If we’re going to create our own traditions, does this mean you’ll fuck me on the kitchen floor at the end of every Hanukah meal?”

His back straightens as he looks at you in alarm until laughter emanates through his entire frame. “Naughty little slut,” he teases, giving your ass a swift smack.

You squeal and try to wriggle away, but he easily pins you down and tickles you until you’re breathlessly begging for mercy.

Eventually, he relents, but still keeps you pinned down to kiss you one last time. “Happy Hanukkah, babygirl.”

#lady in writing #adcu community #flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman x you #flip zimmerman smut #flip zimmerman x reader #adcu smut

[babbushka]

🍔 - I can never get enough of your Flip hcs :D

🍔What's a headcanon that hasn't made it into a published fic yet?

Flip's first ever dog was a basset hound that lived mostly outside.

He was a porch dog named Red, so named for the russet coat that shone in the Coloradoan sun.

Flip and that dog went nearly everywhere together that a boy and dog could go -- you didn't see Flip without Red, and you didn't see Red without Flip.

He wasn't allowed inside, too dirty and slobbery for Mrs. Zimmerman's clean manicured home, but every now and again, Flip would sneak him in through the back porch and on particularly cold nights, let Red snuggle up at the foot of his bed instead of the chilly dog house.

Red was a good dog, never barked at the mailman or newspaper boy. He walked you home from school on nights when Flip was running groceries for the neighbor or trimming the lawn of the elderly couple down the block.

He ate just about anything, never picky and always happy for some leftovers from the diner that you and Flip frequented on your teenage date nites.

After Red passed away at the ripe old age of 14, his red gone mostly grey, Flip never thought about getting another dog. He didn't have the time for one anyway, not with his job at the police station, working his way up to detective.

In fact, it isn't until he's growing a bit of grey around the temples himself, that you surprise him one Hanukkah with a basset hound puppy that simply had to come with you from the pound.

Beside himself with emotion and reflections of his childhood, he followed suit and named this one Blue, after the big satin ribbon you tied around her neck.

And even though he knew this puppy would never replace the one he had grown up with, he found the old leash from the garage and realized just how badly he had missed those post-dinner walks.

#flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman x you #adcu #adam driver fanfic #adcu headcanons #flip zimmerman headcanon #ask game #thank you!!!

[rachoxpotato]

Flip’s Day Off

Flip Zimmerman x Reader CW // free use, cunnilingus, some butt stuff, dirty talk, praise, light degradation, light choking, Daddy, p in v 2.4k words

Beams of soft light streaking through the gap in your curtains wake you. With your eyes open in the room’s rather dim glow, you can’t help but wonder how it wasn’t Flip’s snoring. 

Must be used to it, you muse, as you swing your legs over the side of the bed and search for the flannel he’d worn the night before. The one you desperately stripped off of him while he still had you in his arms, your legs around his waist. Seconds before he’d thrown you to the bed and spread your thighs with his bare shoulders. 

You shiver at the thought and look down at him as you fasten only the middle button, the too-big garment falling to mid-thigh. You have to roll the sleeves up to your elbows to use your hands. Worth it. 

From your bedside drawer, you pluck a clean pair of cotton panties and slip them on beneath his shirt. It’s Flip’s day off, so you’re not sure how long they’ll last but at least the effort is there. 

His scarred chest rises and falls with his even breaths, his naked lower half barely covered by the layers of blankets you need to stay warm on nights he works late. 

Following the thin trail of dark hair south of his bellybutton, the sheets are tented by his proud morning wood, and had he not had a rough round of shifts leading up to this: his first day off in two weeks, you’d wake him up with your tongue swirling around the tip. 

Your mouth waters at the thought. You know he’d love it. But he can use every minute of sleep he can get. So you pad into the kitchen and get the coffee pot going. 

Besides, on Flip’s days off… you’re the sex toy.

It’s just as the maker is spewing its last drops of hot coffee that Flip emerges from your bedroom, a pair of plaid boxers riding low on his hips. 

He runs a hand through his thick, lush hair, his fingers combing through and straightening out his middle part before his hand rubs lazily at his muscular chest and defined abs. You try not to gawk but when that hand drops and he scratches his happy trail, you clench. 

“Morning, Love,” you say calmly as he approaches you, wraps his arms around your waist from behind, and rests his chin on your shoulder. 

God, he feels so good like this. So big. So warm. You’ve never felt safer than you do in flip Zimmerman’s arms. 

“Would you like some coffee?” you ask as his lips find your neck. His mouth explores like it doesn’t have every inch of you road-mapped and you sigh as he sucks gently at your pulse point. “C-coffee?” you try again shakily. 

“After,” he says, though, his hands practically answer for him. His massive paws climb your thighs, reach beneath your (his) shirt and squeeze your ass so hard, he brings you up into your toes. 

You whimper as you look back at him over your shoulder and he claims your lips with his own, his tongue wasting no time in finding yours and forcing dominance. 

“Daddy,” you sigh as his fingers pinch the fabric of your panties and he drops to his knees as he tugs them down. 

“Drives me crazy. You in my clothes.”

“Yeah?” you gasp as he spreads your legs from behind and presses a wide palm to your lower back. His thumb and forefingers nearly stretch to wrap around your hips, his hand is so big. 

“Youre mine,” he says as he pushes you forward, your hands bracing yourself on the countertop as his tongue finds your sex. 

“Flip!” you gasp, hands scrambling for purchase. 

“The fuck did you just call me?” he asks, a finger dragging lightly up and down the inside of your sensitive thigh. 

“Daddy,” you sigh. 

“Good girl,” Flip murmurs and rewards you with his tongue between your folds. 

He steadies you with a hand on your thigh, holds you against the kitchen cabinet, and licks through your labia, tasting every inch of you. Probably tasting himself from a few hours ago as well. 

That thought drives you wild. 

“Fuck, Daddy, I…”

“I know, Baby Girl,” he murmurs, lifting the finger from your thigh to your heat. He circles your clit and traces the circumference of your opening… but never quite touches you where you need him. “My little sex doll can’t even go the morning without getting fucked, hm?” And before you can even insinuate that he’d initiated this, Flip spreads your arousal up to your clit, circling it, never touching it directly. “You’re so fuckin’ wet, Baby Girl. I’ve barely touched you.”

He urges your legs further apart and spreads you open for him, gently pulling your lips apart with his thumb and forefinger. 

“You just have the most perfect pussy,” Flip says. “Daddy likes to admire what’s his.”

You moan at that, your fingertips nearly puncturing the granite countertop as he circles, circles, circles your entrance with his finger. 

“Daddy, please,” you beg.

“Only because my baby girl asked so nicely,” he says, pressing a finger into you and you sigh, but your relief quickly morphs into a gasp as his tongue finds your clit. 

And the stretch you feel inside your cunt leads you to believe he’s slipped a second finger inside of you. 

“Ohhh, god. Yes yes! Daddy, don’t stop,” you pant as his tongue applies the expert pressure only he can deliver. “Close… I’m close…”

Flip maintains his finger speed and wraps his lips around your clit. As he sucks at your sensitive nub, you suck in a breath of air, and hold it until your orgasm flips low in your belly. 

And then you’re scrambling, you’re flying. 

Pleasure bursts within you, causing you to cry out as sensations flood your body and ricochet off every inch of your insides as the storm crashes back down in waves. 

Your scream goes silent as you rock back against his face, mouth open, desperately trying to keep from falling off the earth as your legs shake violently and your intimate walls clamp down on his fingers. 

And before your climax can even begin to dwindle, the tip of Flip’s tongue is between your ass cheeks, prodding the tight ring of muscle and prolonging your orgasm as your asshole gets the attention it didn’t even know it craved. 

“Fuck,” you breathe, once you’ve finally come down from your high. You’re still bent over the counter while Flip’s hand does god knows what to you between your legs as you recover. 

“I’m gonna fuck you here later,” he says, using the arousal he’d collected from your pussy as lube and inserting his finger inside your ass to the first knuckle. “It’s been too long. My cock misses fucking this perfect ass.”

He grabs a cheek with his free hand for emphasis. 

You look over your shoulder, your bottom lip between your teeth. “Why don’t you fuck me there now?”

“I’d be too rough.” He withdraws his finger and in one fluid motion, Flip grips your hips, turns you around to face him, and lifts you up onto the counter. Your ass hovers precariously on the edge but Flip’s strong hands keep you steady.

He’s got a hold on you but still manages to push his boxers down to his thighs, revealing his massive erection. 

You often forget how big he actually is. Usually so lost in the throws of passion, you’re just begging for it in some capacity. 

But this is one of those times your eyes bulge as he lines it up with your entrance and you wonder how it fits in your cunt at all, let alone your ass. 

Flip smirks when he catches your expression and you’re whining as he feeds you the tip, already begging for more. 

“I like to take my time when I fuck your ass,” he says, continuing his previous sentiment. “And Doll, I’m not gonna be able to hold back this morning.”

 He thrusts into you then, wholly, roughly, quickly. 

You cry out as your spine arches, pressing your chest toward him. With quick fingers, he rips the button of his flannel open, exposing your breasts as the fabric frames your curves.

Flip places a hand on your lower back and the other on the edge of the counter, using both for leverage to fuck into you hard, fast, wild, his eyes on your tits as they bounce and jiggle with his motions. 

“Daddy!” you gasp, looking between you. 

His huge cock is slick, shiny, covered in your arousal. The sheen matches that of his lips. 

“You like watching Daddy fuck you?” he grunts, pumping his hips a little harder. 

“Uh… uh huh,” you manage to say as you watch his cock go in and slip out. 

“Yeah you do, Daddy’s perfect little slut, hm? Lets him tear down her panties whenever he wants like the good little doll she is.”

His words make you moan but before he can continue whispering filth, his mouth is on your breast, teasing your nipple. He’s licking, sucking, biting at the skin around the aching, rosy nub and he smirks when you shift, attempting to line it up with his lips. 

“Daddyyyy,” you whine. Then, “DADDY!” when he sucks a bruise into your skin. 

“Good girl,” he praises, staring at the reds and purples. Flip’s lips curl into a smile and then he descends onto your nipple. 

His hot mouth sucks, laps, and nips at the bud. He sucks harder, eliciting tiny shards of pain that turn swiftly into pleasure on their way down to your center. 

“Feel good, Baby Girl?”

“Yes yes yes!” Your hands fly to his hair and tug while simultaneously holding him in place. 

“Need ya to come, Doll. ‘m close… fuck, baby. You- you close?”

You are but you’re also on another planet, so answering him doesn’t come as easily as it should. 

And he’s getting frustrated. 

Flip consumes your throat. A hand around your neck, squeezing the sides with his fingers, and you moan so loudly, it makes him chuckle. 

“How the fuck am I supposed to punish you anymore? You get off on this now. Answer me.”

“I’m close,” you squeak out and Flip smirks. 

“There’s my good girl, huh?”

His hand slides down the front of your body, roughly squeezing your tits and pinching your nipples as it continues over your stomach. 

“See? You can listen,” he says, his thumb finding your sensitive clit immediately. “God, you’re so fuckin’ wet, Doll.”

Flip grunts before hooking his left elbow under your knee and hiking your leg up higher, spreading your legs even more for him. 

“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” he says as his thumb moves in perfect rhythm with his thrusts. He slows both motions to kiss your neck and whisper in your ear, his breath hot on your skin. “So fuckin’ gorgeous, Baby Girl. Can’t believe you let me do this to you. My perfect little slut doll…”

You gasp at his words, lips curling up into a smile as he hikes your leg up higher and finds an angle that makes you scream. 

“Harder, Daddy! Faster, please…”

“Gotta teach my doll some patience, hm? Don’t forget, Baby Girl…” You cry out as he hits you with a particularly deep thrust, so deep, you swear he hits your lungs, forces the air from your body. Then, his eyes darken and he says, “you’re my fuck toy. For when I need to get off.”

He thrusts into you so hard, his thighs clash against the cupboard, the door slams over and over with each pump. 

“Say it,” he whispers, eyes on his massive cock as it glides in and out of you, the base seemingly wetter each time he pulls out.

You’ve lost the ability to speak, think, form a coherent thought. All you know is…

“I’m Daddy’s fuck toy,” you sigh. 

“Good girl.”

“Please, please can I come? Daddy… Daddy… I’m—“

The room smells like coffee and sex when you take in a deep breath and hold it. Between the friction of his huge cock, the perfect circles of his fingers on your clit, Flip’s dirty talk, and the asphyxiation, you're a goner. 

“Come for me, Baby Girl. Let me feel this wet little pussy squeeze my cock. Fuckin’—“

You cry out as your second orgasm before 9am wreaks havoc over your system, stretching your spine tight like a bow. 

Flip fucks you through it, your climax a catalyst for his, and suddenly, his thrusts lose their rhythm and he’s grunting and groaning as he paints your walls with his hot, white cum. 

After your body collapses in pleasure, Flip uses the leverage of your leg to keep your body open for him, even after his hand has left your clit and grips the countertop, and you’re clinging to him, desperate for skin to skin contact. 

He wraps an arm around you and buries his face in your sweaty neck as he gives you two last pumps of cum, his shaking lips sucking at the skin below your ear. 

“There’s my good girl,” he says before gently pulling out. “Well done, Baby Girl. Stay right there.”

His cum drips down the underside of your ass cheeks while you wait for his return. He’s got a warm washcloth between your legs seconds later and you’re combing your fingers through his hair. 

Flip turns his head as kisses your wrist. 

“Come on, Doll, let’s go back to bed.” He bridal carries you while you cling to his neck, and sets you carefully on the mattress. “Turn over.”

You do as you’re told. 

“Good doll,” he praises as a slippery hand grabs your ass cheek. 

You gasp as the tip of a cold, stainless steel plug presses against your asshole. 

“I know, Baby, I know,” he coos behind you as you whine. “Tried to warm the lube up a bit. Take a deep breath in… good, now breathe out. Relax.”

As you exhale, he presses the plug inside of you. 

“For later,” he says with a smirk as he climbs into bed next to you and drapes your body over his. 

You might just love his days off more than he does.

#flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman x reader #adcu x reader #adcu #adcu fic #adcu smut #rachwrites #adcu writer #flip zimmerman x you

[strangunddurm]

Marlboro Red

Masterlist

Pairing: Flip Zimmerman x fem!reader

Word Count: 6.3k

Warnings: PinV sex, unprotected sex, self pleasure, fingering, masturbation, age gap, degradation, swearing, dirty talk, voyerism.

Hola! Missed me? I made the mistake of getting a summer job whilst also studying full time. Let's just say, it was painful. Also, I forgot how much I love AD (Flip) and then Venice happened and now I'm back in the trenches.

Flip knew that it was wrong. He knew that he shouldn’t let his eyes linger as he happened to glance over at you, but he couldn’t help it. The way you looked was always mesmerising, forever hypnotising. He was completely enamoured by the way the wind would dance around you and the sun would kiss your skin as you were kind enough to share that beautiful smile you had with the rest of the world. He couldn’t help but grow hard in his jeans over the sight of you. His cock would weep with precum until he could get a moment alone so that he could wrap his hand around his thick length and give a tug at it as he thought of you and the way your sundress would graze your glorious thighs.

The fact that you were always so kind and gracious did not help his ailing thoughts. It made it worse. You deserved so much better than an old, lust-driven man thinking about the way you would look as he spread your legs wide opened and slotted himself between them before taking a long swipe at your soaking cunt. Older man was perhaps a more appropriate title to give himself. Flip knew that he wasn’t old but he was older than you. Old enough to know better. Old enough to know that he shouldn’t be trying to look up the skirt of such a young thing like you. But every time you said ‘hi’ to him, he couldn’t help but fantasise about the way you would look on your knees before him as you took his thick cock down your throat and gagged. He imagined tears leaking from your eyes over the sheer excursion; tears that he would wipe away with a loving swipe of his thumb before you took even more of him.

It’s why he kept away in the beginning. He would force himself to turn on his heel and walk away if he saw even a glimpse of you. It worked for a while, but then you seemed to notice Flip’s attempts at avoiding you. It was a small town after all. Everybody knew everybody and avoiding people just wasn’t possible. Plus, he didn’t want to hurt you; make you feel as if you’d done something wrong. It was hard trying to make his feelings go away when you were you. You were always so keen and eager to hear what was on his mind, to help him with anything and everything. Falling in love with you was easy.

Or, was it really love? It was lust at the very least. Merely the smell of you was enough to trigger the filthiest of thoughts in his mind, made them race until they drove him into madness. But would it be so wrong if he were to taint you with his seed? You wanted him. It was obvious. You had to think about him just as much as he thought about you, if not more.

Flip would notice it every time he would enter the small convenience store that you worked in. The way you would shift, rubbing your thighs together to provide some sort of brief relief to your throbbing and aching clit as his heavy footsteps hit your ears. The way your eyes would shift down to take all of him in, eyes always widening slightly as you pretended not to notice the hard bulge in his jeans. It was clear as day, you yearned for his hard dick to slot itself between your thighs rutting forward to rub against your stiff clit before he fucked you like you’d dreamed about being fucked. The sweetest combination of rough and loving, letting you cry out into the air as he pounded against your soft spot and whispered sweet nothings in your ear. Lingering kisses would dance across your skin until you went to bed and woke up the next morning in peaceful bliss.

You would turn around with that bright smile, eagerly gliding to the cashier’s stand to take his money as he paid for the fresh packet of cigarettes he bought every day just so that he could see you. You knew that he was there just for you. The station had a small vending machine that was always stocked with everything a cop could need. The logical thing would be for him to buy them there but his little pit-stop came to be a ritual that he just couldn’t bring himself to break.

He would give you a ride sometimes, when he started work early enough for him to spot you as you were walking down the highway, on your way to your early morning shift. Seeing the way your hips would swing made him groan before pulling up beside you to ask if you needed a ride. You would always say yes, happily sliding into the passenger seat with a chipper ‘thank you!’. Flip’s truck was a three-seater, making it easy for you to slide up close to him as he took his time, slowly driving through town. It was unnecessary, you didn’t need to sit so close to him, but you would always blame a nonexistent bump for jolting you, forcing you closer and closer to him. Both of you knew that it was a lie but neither of you cared to acknowledge it. It was a lie that benefitted you both. It eased Flip’s conscience and it gave you what you wanted: his closeness.

Did you wear those dresses on purpose? You had to know what your thighs did to him, especially when you would so purposefully press them against him at the smallest turn. Even though he couldn’t feel it through his jeans, your skin burned as hot as hellfire as you seared your mark into his thigh, through his jeans, making sure that he couldn’t think much about anything else for the rest of the day. Flip always had to stop himself from letting his hand slide up your skirt to feel just how wet you were for him as he stroked a finger through your puffy lips. He wanted to rub his calloused fingers against your nub as you mewled for him, watching you come undone and giving you that hazy look in your eyes before he dropped you off with a quick kiss and a tap on your bum.

Your parents had bought that small convenience store before you were born. You had told him about how you had worked there every summer since you were 12, helping as much as you could, and it continued even after you went to college. This summer was no different. You took your place behind the checkout, ringing up orders all day, and Flip was the happiest of all to see your face.

“How are you today, Mr Zimmerman?” Mr Zimmerman. Flip had told you numerous times not to call him that. It wasn’t that the formality made him uncomfortable, hearing you call him Mr Zimmerman had him imagining how it would sound if you panted it into his ear as you begged him to fuck deeper into you.

The convenience store was the scene of his crime. Not that any crime was actually committed, but the social piranhas were bound to zero in on it as the place where it all happened. Gossip was inevitable. You were still in college, a year into grad school, and it didn’t matter that you had been an adult more years than he could count on one hand, Flip was still so much older than you that people just had to talk about it. It didn’t matter if you were the one that pursued him or not. Gossip was gossip and it was bound to travel from ear to ear as mouths moved, dripping with the saliva that lubricated their words.

“I’m good, a bit tired, how are you?” He asked, fixing his eyes upon yours as he sent a crooked smile your way. You smiled back eagerly, leaning forward on the counter as if you were drawn to him, needing to be as close to him as you could. Flip did all that he could to keep his eyes trained on yours, to stop himself from thinking those sinful thoughts. He could almost see your nipples poking through the thin cotton of your dress and it stirred something deep inside of him.

“Good, good, rough day at work?” The two of you made simple small talk for a few minutes before you ran out of the usual things normal people would talk about. Flip made it obvious then that he was reluctant to go, lingering by you, staring down into your eyes for far longer than what anybody would deem acceptable.

You bit your lip as you stared back at him, eyes flickering to the clock on your right to check the time. Five past eight. It was early enough for the store to be empty, waiting for the small rush of workers getting ready for their 9-5 jobs. Colorado being a big-small town ran on routine. It was predictable, everyone had a specific routine that they rarely deviated from Monday-Friday. It made it easy for you to predict when you would have a small break and the next customer was Joyce Hill, arrival time: 8:20.

A lot could happen in 15 minutes.

“Actually, before you go, I was wondering if you could help me with a problem I have in the back?”

-

It was a small room, obese stacks of old, unfinished paperwork crowded the walls and every surface. Small particles of dust lingered in the air, waves rippling through them as the door opened and closed in quick succession.

It was your father’s designated place in the shop, the place where he liked to be left undisturbed. You had barely been in there after your seventh birthday but it was the only place where the two of you could be alone for a little while.

“So, what did you need help with?” Flip played along, hands resting on his hips as he watched you lean against the closed door.

“I have this pain,” You started, twirling the bottom of your shirt and then twisting the hem of your skirt as you bit your lip.

“Pain?”

“Mhmm, this deep ache.”

“That doesn’t sound good.” Flip played along as he became hypnotised by the way your fingers traced your skin softly and he couldn’t help but feel a deep yearning for his own to follow the same path across your thighs and beyond the valley of your breasts.

“It keeps me up at night.” You took a small step closer to him. “Gets me so wet.” You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face as you heard him groan over your words and whisper out a small “goddamn it.”

You were so close to him now that you could smell his cologne. It was woodsy, filled with smoke and something that was entirely and purely Flip. You couldn’t help the deep inhale that you took, craving the smell of him as you stalked even closer. Your hand came out to graze against his flannel shirt, fingertips following an invisible trail until they came to a stop at his top button.

“I have this urge.”

“Urge?” Flip’s voice almost quivered as he clung to every word you said, wondering if he was lost in a daydream once again or if this was actually happening.

“I can’t stop fantasising about what your cock would taste like.” You said it so casually, as if it was a normal conversation you’d have with anyone.

“Jesus.” Flip tripped over the word, almost choking on it as he heard the words slip past your lips so easily.

Your hand fell back down so that you could press it against him, against the thick, throbbing bulge that was weeping for attention in his jeans. You cupped him, revelling in the heaviness of him as your hand struggled to encompass all of it. It made you press your thighs together, searching for relief for the aforementioned ache.

“I think I could help you with that problem.” Flip tried to keep his voice steady but it was hard, especially with the way you were palming him so deliciously.

“That would be so kind of you,” Kind of you. Flip could almost laugh. Was this luck? Was it lucky of him that the woman he wanted the most was practically begging for him? Most definitely.

You thumbed at the button of his jeans before eagerly popping it and pulling the zipper down painfully slow.

Your hand was just about to slip into his pants when Flip kissed you, catching you off guard at first but you were quick to reciprocate. His beard tickled against your skin as he claimed you, drawing you in closer to him with his hands on your waist. Perhaps it was cliche to say that the two of your fit perfectly but that’s what it felt like at the moment. Flip had been craving the feeling of you against his skin for so long that everything felt cliche and bigger - more meaningful - than it was.

Your arms came up to wrap around his neck, pulling him even closer. Your fingers ran through his hair as you stood on your tippy toes. You still had to pull him down, into you, needing him as close as he could come without intertwining your souls.

Your teeth grazed against his lips, pulling a hiss out of him. His hands pawed at your hips, urging your hips to press into his thigh. He could feel the heat of you, even through his jeans he could feel your wet heat that had seeped through your panties begin to form a dark patch on his Levi’s.

You knew that time was running away from you, threatening the one thing you had craved all summer. You didn’t let him kiss you for too long because of it. You were in a hurry.

You were wicked. Flip hadn’t even noticed the way you had spun the two of you around. Only detaching your lips to push him against the door behind him with a thud. Flip let out a huff of air as you caught him by surprise.

You had a smile on your face that was anything but innocent as you leered at him, eyeing him up with one of the filthiest looks Flip had ever seen that made him want to take you over his knee and deliver onto you a punishment that would make you squirm.

“Did I do that?” It was obvious what you were looking at but Flip followed your eyes down to the hard bulge in his pants. He almost twitched as he saw you bite your lip as he looked back at you.

“You like how hard I get for you?” Flip smirked as he asked.

“I love it.” You stalked closer to him. Your fingers grazed over that little peak of skin that peaked through between his shirt and jeans. The muscles under his skin flexed beneath your fingertip at your touch. A shiver ran down his spine before travelling through his legs, all the way down to his toes.

“You gonna do something about it?” Flip asked lowly, almost challenging you, daring you to do something.

The sight of you dropping to your knees before him was a sight he would never forget. It would play over and over in his mind until he lost himself to oblivion, driven mad by his desire for you. Flip felt eager, like a pre-pubescent teen catching a glimpse of his first boob through a bedroom window as he rode past on his bike. Of course, this was much better, much more. This would change him and steer him down a path of life that was so different from the one he had previously been on. Like a child crossing the threshold into adulthood from a simple, quick glimpse, Flip would soon take the step from being a man to being something so much more.

Flip was giddy beyond belief as your fingers finally wrapped themselves around his thick cock, your fingertips attempting to reach around to one another but being kept apart by the girth of him. You gripped the base of his cock, making Flip’s knees feel weak as you dragged your tender palm up and down his hard, velvety cock. You were steady in your movements, swiping the pad of your thumb gently over his angry red and sensitive head every time you came to the top.

“Fuck yeah, stroke my dick, baby.” His words made you tighten your hold on him - encouraged you to quicken your pace just a little. And just when Flip thought he would need to plead with you to feel your lips wrap around the head of him, you did just that. Your hot and wet lips stretched around his throbbing head as you finally tasted him.

Your lips encased his tip softly, swirling your tongue around him before letting it wander over every inch of him. He was your favourite flavour, a taste you would always search for throughout life. You pulled back, licking your lips as you gazed up at him with eyelids heavy from lust.

“Oh, you like that, sweetheart? You like the taste of my cock?”

“Love it so much,” You were a greedy little thing, going back for more after less than a second of being without.

Your tongue flattened, caressing the underside of Flip’s dick as you took as much of him in your mouth as you could. He was big, bigger than any college boy’s dick that you had ever sucked before and it was almost impossible for you to take all of him. But you tried your hardest, letting your lips stretch as far as they could around him.

Flip’s hand caressed your neck softly before grabbing a hold of the back of your neck and urging you forward. It was everything and not enough, a yearning seated deep within him grew with each swipe of your tongue.

Your hand wrapped around the base of him, pumping his shaft as you sucked on the head of him. Flip could feel the muscles in his stomach and his abs tighten. You dragged your mouth back teasing his slit before engulfing more of him again.

“Christ,” Flip hissed out your name, eyes having trouble focusing as you rendered him as close to speechless as he had ever been. Flip’s hips jutted forward, slipping more of him inside of your mouth. He loved fucking your mouth, loved the sounds of you gagging around him that filled the room.

Your feeling of your tongue caressing his cock almost made him miss the way your hand had moved under your dress, fingers pressing against your clit as you tried to give yourself relief. Almost was the keyword. The sight of you on your knees with his cock down your throat and hand rubbing your most private place was enough to send him over the edge.

“Holy fucking shit.” Flip groaned loudly as his cum shot into your mouth. His hips rutted into you, making you gag around him as he hit the back of your throat. His legs shook, stomach tightening as you pumped him clean of every single drop of cum. “Goddamn it,” Flip finally whispered before taking half a step back, withdrawing his wet, half-hard dick from your mouth when he was completely spent and empty.

“Such a dirty girl.” Flip cooed in praise, completely in awe of you, caressing your cheek softly. He bent down and delivered a sloppy kiss on your lips but just as he was about to let his own fingers reach down to circle your clit, he was interrupted.

Perhaps it was lucky that your father had installed that bell above the door to the convenience store, but it didn’t feel awfully lucky at that moment. The bell rang out, piercing the air with a shrill ring. You felt as if a bucket of ice-cold water had been poured onto you and you stood up with a gasp, barely sparing a glance at Flip before you had made your way out of the door to the office to greet the customer. 15 minutes and 34 seconds.

If you had given him a chance, Flip would’ve told you about the obviously frazzled state that you were in with ruffled clothes, swollen lips, and cum in the corner of your mouth. It wouldn’t take much for whoever was out there to connect the dots. And perhaps it didn’t help the way Flip came walking out of the back room with a certain swagger in his step that hadn’t been there before.

Two pairs of wide eyes took in his form as he rapped his knuckles against the counter, letting you know that he would ‘see you tomorrow’ before making his exit.

-

It pained Flip leaving you there. He wanted to give you so much more, see how you would squirm for him as his fingers trailed through your wet lips. He wanted to feel your hot mouth wrapped around him again and see the way your eyes leaked as you took him further and further.

Flip couldn’t help it when his hand disappeared past the waistband of his jeans the second he closed the front door of his home behind him. His own hand did not feel as good around him as yours had but it was enough to satisfy him for the moment. He jerked the garments to his knees, letting his heavy cock spring free and bob slightly in the air.

Cum was leaking from the tip of him as he stroked himself. Flip kept a steady pace, imagining you in front of him with every thrust into his own hand. He remembered how wet and swollen your lips had been as you wrapped them around the tip of him; how it had felt when your finger had graced his shaft so gently.

Flip’s fist jerked him faster and faster as he came closer to the end, having been so tightly wound up from earlier that it didn't take much before his hips stuttered, his muscles tightened, and he came with a loud, vibrating groan.

It wasn’t enough. Nothing would ever be enough, not now that he knew what your lips felt like around the head of him. He craved more. Craved to take everything you would give him.

-

The high-pitched ding of the bell rang out through the air, signalling Flip’s arrival to all that were in the store. Frank, the town’s local mechanic and the only other customer, greeted him with a low, muttered “Good to see you, Flip” before quickly departing, leaving you two alone.

Flip moved slowly toward the checkout after having plucked a packet of M&M’s from the small carousel by the door. There was a low hum in the air from refrigerators in the back, the low luminescent lights flickering every once in a while. It felt eerie, like everything, every inanimate object, was waiting for something to happen.

“Hi, Mr Zimmerman” You were doing it on purpose, but your tone gave Flip the vague impression that you weren’t as excited to see him as he were you.

“Something wrong, sweetheart?” Flip leaned his hip against the counter, looking down at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Packet of Marlboro?” Ignoring his question wouldn’t do you any good, you should know that. But Flip indulged you, nodding his head wordlessly as he watched your every move.

You did everything in your power to avoid his eyes, knowing the hold he had over you if you caught so much as a glimpse of his gaze filled with molten gold.

You slammed the packet of cigarettes down on the counter before clenching your fists by your sides as you waited for his money. Flip didn’t make a move to get his wallet out of his back pocket though. Instead, he stayed there, quietly watching you as he took in everything about you. Flip was a detective for a reason. He wasn’t stupid, he knew you were upset but he liked toying with you.

“Aren’t you happy to see me?”

“No.” You muttered bitterly.

“You sad I didn’t get to eat that pretty pussy of yours yesterday?” You became flustered over his words, the confidence you’d had yesterday completely evaporated.

Flip was teasing you, seeing how far he could push you before you came out and said whatever was on your mind.

“Want me to swirl my tongue over your clit before I drag you down over my cock?” He continued to prod, keeping the expression on his face completely neutral.

“Mr Zimmerman!” You hissed out his name in a warning. “I don’t think this is appropriate.” Had you come to your senses? Surely not. Flip deeply hoped that you hadn’t. He could still see the shift in your hips as he came closer, leaning over the counter to analyse your face. You didn’t take a step back, didn’t shy away or lower your heated gaze. To you, it felt like the first time anyone had truly seen you. Not just looked upon you but actually saw you, and it made you bristle.

The feeling that coursed through you was unknown to you. It was more profound than any feeling Flip had created within you previously, and Flip was the master of your emotions. Despite never indulging in deeper conversations than ones you would have with others, he had a hold on you that you doubted would ever truly go away, no matter if you would part ways for years to come.

“You don’t want my cock between your thighs anymore, sweetheart?” Flip straightened up slightly. If you would ask him to leave he would do so. He would look over his shoulder as he walked out, but he would do whatever you wanted him to, even if he didn’t like it.

But you couldn’t say no. Of course, you wanted that. You wanted to feel him stretch you out like no one before. You craved it. Dreamt about it night after night. Thought about it as your own inadequate fingers would run through your folds and caress your walls.

“How could you do that?” He knew what you were referring to. How he had waltzed out, still zipping up his fly as you were ringing up the customer yesterday. “People are gonna talk, they’re gonna tell my parents!”

It wasn’t that you were ashamed of the fact. A large part of you was happy — proud — that people would know. Your only concern was that the trust your parents showed in you by letting you run the store by yourself was betrayed.

“I’m sorry, honey, I couldn’t help it. Want everybody to know you’re mine,” Flip smirked as he saw the physical response you had to him as he charmed you with his words. His? You would do anything, go along with anything, to be his.

“Let me make it up to you?”

-

The room felt bigger than the day before, widened by the knowledge of what could possibly occur once you closed that door behind you. You should’ve learned something from your mistakes but you couldn’t control yourself when it came to Flip. You needed to feel him between your legs or you felt like you would die if you were to go without it. Here lies the body of you, whose desire drove you to your early demise; death by lust, forever cursed to feel the pulsing ache between your legs and crave the touch of another, never to be satisfied again by your own.

But you weren’t there yet. Salvation would be delivered unto you this day. Flip was frantic in his movement as he pushed up your shirt so that your breasts became bare for him. He didn’t wait, not even taking a second to admire them, before he let his lips attach themselves to your nipple. He sucked it into his mouth, running his tongue over your stiff peak, earning himself a moan from your mouth.

Flip felt as if he had earned this. He deserved this. He’d had a craving for you for so long that he couldn’t hold back as his hands explored everything that they could.

Flip’s hand had travelled up along your legs to the apex of your thigh. He made contact with the delicate string of your thong and you gasped into his mouth as he tugged it down your legs so that he could run his fingers over your pussy. You were so wet for him, completely having drenched his fingers in all that was you.

He worked you open slowly, slipping one finger inside of you gently. You clenched around him, becoming even tighter than what you already were.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good.” Flip groaned out into your ear as his lips travelled up and down your neck.

It didn’t take him long before he slipped another finger into you and you couldn’t help the moan that slipped out. He stretched you out slowly, making sure you would be ready to take him. All of him.

“Shh…” Flip hushed you, placing his free hand over your mouth in an attempt to quiet you. Your breath came out in short pants against his palm as you tried to control yourself.

Flip curled his two fingers in a come hither motion, stroking your silky walls to bring you closer to the pleasure you craved so much.

“Let me taste you.”

Flip dropped to his knees before you, urging you to take a seat on top of the desk behind you, causing some paperwork to fall to the floor, before parting your legs even more so that his shoulders could fit between them. He held your dress up, bunching it around your hips with his eager hands before digging his fingers into your thighs, hauling one of them onto his shoulder, and connecting his mouth to your sweet cunt.

The quiet sounds of your breathless moans were intoxicating as he suckled your clit into his mouth before flicking his tongue over the stiff nub.

Your knees fought against his shoulders as your hand came to cover your mouth, willing any sounds to stay inside of you as you bit down softly in an attempt to control yourself.

You fought to keep your eyes open as your hips moved up and down in a desperate attempt to grind your aching clit against his mouth and nose in search of that perfect sensation that would drive you over the edge.

Your hand slid into Flip’s hair, gliding through it before grasping a firm hold of it as a wave of pleasure ran its course through your body.

Flip had already made you come once when he slid his fingers into you, continuing his ministrations on your clit with his mouth. His movements were much rougher than what they had been before, thrusting them into you expertly, hitting that sweet spot of yours over and over again.

Your back arched into the air and your mouth fell open at the overstimulation. It was exquisite.

“Oh, oh, Flip. I’m gonna cum.” You whispered desperately. “Oh, God.”

You clung to his arm in an attempt to hold on to any sort of sanity but it was all for nought. Both of your hands flew to your mouth as your whole body started to shake.

Flip tried to hold you as still as he could but never let up as he flicked the tip of his tongue over your clit again and again and again. He worked you through your orgasm, never relenting as your silent whimpers spurred him on. You had such a tight hold on his hair that it made him groan, sending a wave of vibrations through you that caused you to gasp. He only stopped once your whimpers had grown in volume to a steady whine of pleas.

“You’re such a good girl.” Flip praised as he came up, pressing a bruising kiss to your lips. “You gonna let me fuck you, sweetheart?”

“Yes! Please, Flip.”

Flip took a step back so that he could unbuckle his pants, popping the button open before pushing them down his hips, letting his stiff cock slap up against his taught stomach, balls hanging heavily. He spread the wetness of you that still coated his fingers over the head of his cock, giving himself a couple of pumps in preparation.

“How badly do you want me to fuck you?” It might as well have been a rhetorical question for Flip knew the answer to that question very well. But he wanted to hear your answer. He wanted to hear your pleas as you begged him to fuck you full of himself. He wanted you to whine for his cum, to drive you so insane that you would begin to speak in tongues as the tip of him would repeatedly rub against that sweet spot inside of you.

“So badly,” You were practically breathless; completely lost just from the sight of him. Flip loved to see you like this, so dishevelled, so fuckable.

“Tell me how badly you want it.” He breathed out the command.

“I need you to fuck me, Flip, I need you to fill me up, please…” Your tongue ran over your lips at the sight of precum leaking from his tip, remembering how he tasted.

Flip stepped closer, caressing your jaw as he continued pumping his dick. Flip pressed a sloppy kiss to your mouth before the head of his cock teased your entrance, gliding through it to coat itself in your wetness before slowly beginning to stretch you inch by inch. His dick was so thick and long that you wondered if you could even take it all. The slow drive of his hips into you was driving you wild until, finally, Flip’s hips met yours as he bottomed out and the tip of him was nestled snugly against your cervix.

Flip stopped for a moment to let you acclimate, but only for a moment as he could not bear any more. He drew himself out all the way until only his tip was inside of you. You were desperate to feel all of him inside of you again so you wrapped your leg around his waist, urging him to push forward back into you and fill the emptiness that his dick left behind. Flip grinned and sank into her again.

“Shit!” You cried as Flip drove the air from your lungs as he pounded into you. He never stopped or slowed down, continuously pulling almost all the way out and driving back into you again and again in a steady rhythm. Flip admired you as your eyes fluttered close, tits bouncing with every thrust. Your pussy pulsed and trembled around his thick girth, pulling him in deeper and deeper.

He grabbed your hips tightly, sure to be felt the next day, before starting to pound into you in earnest. The desk rustled with every rut of Flip’s hips, hitting the wall behind it over and over again. Your moans were building to a crescendo and Flip attempted to silence them by kissing you. You let him swipe his tongue along the inside of your lips, swallowing your moans before they rang through the air.

Flip drove into you harder and faster, unable to control himself from plunging deeper into you. You felt too good, too hard to resist.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck fuck,” The words tumbled out of your mouth and Flip could feel you coming closer and closer to your end as your walls tightened around him. And just when you thought that you were about to cum, Flip pulled out of you, leaving you whining for him.

Flip guided you up from the desk, turning you around and forcing your front against the desk. He let his hands slide over your ass, spreading you open for him so that he could admire you. You were glistening, folds completely soaked and puffy.

“Please, Flip.” You pleaded, needing him.

“So greedy, honey.” Flip tutted before sliding back into your pussy so effortlessly.

Flip fucked you with slow, deep strokes to begin with, relishing every little squeak and whimper that made their way past your lips as he made you feel so good. He put his hand around your neck, forcing your head up so that he could tilt your head up. He wanted to see you as he pounded into you. He wanted to watch as your face twisted in those throes of passion.

“You like that, sweetheart?” Flip chuckled as he saw your eyes almost roll into the back of your head as he hit that soft, spongy part inside of you.

“You fuck me so good.” You babbled.

His hips picked up the pace, cock beginning to hammer into you, his balls swinging, slapping your clit. Your fingers dug into the desk below you, relishing in the pain as your hips were driven into the wood repeatedly.

“I’m gonna fuck you so full, fill you up until your dripping with me.” Dirty words tumbled through Flip’s lips, praising you and the way you felt.

“You gonna cum for me?” It was so quiet that you barely heard it. “You gonna gush all around my dick, honey?” One of Flip’s hands came forward to rub quick, tiny circles at your bundle of nerves.

Your legs tremble as you cum, back arching and toes curling in pleasure. The way you grew tighter around him made him hiss as he forced himself in, again and again, chasing his own release. White, hot, searing pleasure runs through him as he finally cums, emptying himself deep inside of you, his jaw clenching and neck straining as he bucked into you. Flip groaned, making sure to pump himself completely empty.

Neither of you had heard the chime of the doorbell, but both of you would notice the one-dollar bill and change that lay waiting on the counter, left there by a fleeing patron that fell victim to hearing your combined rapture.

#flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman smut #flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman x you #adam driver #adcu fanfiction #adam driver smut #adam driver fanfiction #adam driver character

[jynzandtonic]

12 Days of Fluffmas — Day 4: Cozy Fire

Flip Zimmerman x Reader

You could spend all day curled up in your chair like this: a knitted throw draped over your lap with a steaming mug of hot chocolate warming your hands as you gaze out the window. The view from the cabin you and Flip are renting for the week of Hanukkah is beautiful; snow blankets the surrounding forest and the Colorado mountains tower in the distance. However, you’re currently more interested in the foreground. Outside, Flip brings his ax down yet again to cleave a piece of wood in two, adding the logs to a growing pile. It’s a wonder to watch him work, all muscle and momentum as he splits firewood for you. You take another sip of cocoa as he finishes his task and gathers up an armful of wood to take inside.

A blast of icy air rushes in as he opens the front door and you pull your blanket up around you. Flip has a wash of color on his cheeks from the cold as he takes off his boots and hangs up his sherpa-lined jacket.

“Hi, baby” he smiles, taking in the sight of you where you’re all snuggled up. “You staying warm?” 

“All thanks to you,” you chime as he crosses the living room to deposit the wood next to the hearth and adds a few logs to the fire.

Satisfied with the blaze, he stretches out on the faux fur rug in front of the fireplace and pats on the floor next to him. “C’mere,” he says, eyes growing dark. “Let’s get you really warmed up.”

#12 days of fluffmas #flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman fanfiction #flip zimmerman x you #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman/you #flip zimmerman/reader

[mrs-gucci]

Drive-In

{ flip zimmerman x female reader }

anon

Can I please request going to a horror movie drive in with Flip where he hopes the movie will be louder than the noises you both make lol :)

warnings. SMUT (18+ ONLY), high risk sex (car sex around other people), reverse cowgirl, barebacking, creampie.

word count: 525

★ written for sextember 2023 ★

** CLICKING “KEEP READING” MEANS YOU UNDERSTAND & ACKNOWLEDGE ALL OF THE WARNINGS LISTED ABOVE AND ARE OVER THE AGE OF 18. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK, YOUR CONTENT CONSUMPTION IS YOUR RESPONSIBILITY. MINORS DNI. **

collage by me :)

Creepy music plays loudly through the drive-in speakers as the spectators in surrounding cars stare up at the large movie screen, eating their popcorn and drinking their sodas hesitantly, waiting for the impending jump scare.

You and Flip, however, had lost interest in the movie about ten minutes ago. Well, you didn't lose interest, per se. More like you two became much more interested in one another than in the movie.

Lets just say that the gasps and cries from the scared on-screen protagonists aren't the only ones happening at the theater this evening.

Flip grunts as you sink down onto his stiff length repeatedly, hips thrusting up instinctively against you. The truck's windows are starting to really steam up, the air between you two incredibly thick while you ride him.

You're holding tightly onto the grab handle with one hand while the other rests on his hand, the one currently gripping your hip tightly. Your eyes are on the movie and maybe somewhere in your mind you're paying attention to the horrors occurring, but really, it's just pictures on a screen. Your mind is in a whole different place right now.

"S-Shit," you breathe, biting your lip to try and keep the noise down. "Oh god, baby..."

As much as Flip loves this, well, pretty much public sex, he does try to be extra careful since he's law enforcement. He's really hoping the movie's louder than the noises you two are making and the gentle squeaking of his truck's shocks.

He groans softly, cigarette pinched between his teeth, ashes starting to fall off the tip. "Goddamnit, princess...a little faster for me...mhm, that's it..."

You speed up as he requested, resulting in a spike in both your pleasures. Matching noises of pure lust and passion escape from both of your lips.

"Fuck...mm!"

Flip starts thrusting up into you, chasing his rapidly approaching orgasm. The cars around you seem none the wiser and luckily for you two, the windows are not completely steamed over, so all that can really be seen are your silhouettes.

As he fucks you, you take the opportunity to reach down and rub your clit, moaning softly as the pleasure pulses through you. You're close, very close, and getting closer by the second--

"O-Oh fuck," Flip groans as he cums, pushing his cum up into you with rapid thrusts. "Mmm, good girl...shit..."

Feeling him cum is what sends you over the edge, and you continue rubbing yourself through it as the familiar waves of pleasure roll over your body.

Eventually you both come to a stop and Flip pulls out, tucking himself away while you pull your underwear back into place. As soon as you turn around in his lap, Flip has put out his cigarette and pulls you in for a kiss, his arms wrapping around you to hold you close.

A thought come to you and you smile against his lips, chuckling softly. He pulls away, eyebrows slightly furrowed.

"What is it?"

Your laughter grows a bit. "I told you this was a good movie."

He laughs, shaking his head and giving your ass a nice firm smack.

"You're cute."

****

sextember taglist: @rynwritesstuff @safarigirlsp @babbushka

if you'd like to be tagged in future sextember works, please let me know via comment on this post or the original sextember post!

#mrs-gucci #mrs-gucci's sextember #adam driver #adam driver character #adam driver fanfiction #adcu #adcu fanfiction #adcu fanfic #adcu community #adcu fic #adam driver smut #adcu smut #flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman smut #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman x you #flip zimmerman x female reader

[inklore]

guys i’m desperately asking you to send me adam driver character thots, prompts, requests, suggestions, anything because i’m down in the FREAKING trenches!!! please 🙏🏽🧎🏾‍♀️

here’s a list of characters that own me and any and everything will be acceptable ok <3

adam sackler

phillip altman

flip zimmerman

kylo ren / ben solo

charlie barber

henry mchenry

commander mills

rick smolan

#literally any and all things ok #i’m back on my shit and i’m going freaking insane #puhlease #kylo ren x reader #ben solo x reader #adam driver smut #adam driver #charlie barber x reader #adam driver x reader #commander mills x reader #flip zimmerman x you #kylo ren smut

[thetorturerwrites]

Entrapped

Summary: "You cannot trap this man. You come with more baggage than a Coach outlet store." You paused, exasperated as was often the case with Lottie. "You can’t keep doing this to people. To us."

"I’m sure I don’t know what you mean." She shooed you away with an airy wave of her too-thin hand. "Now, go. Flip will be here any minute."

“Colorado it is, I guess…” you muttered as Lottie shut the door in your face. “Fucking hell…”

C/N: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT; rape/non-con; extremely dubious consent; age difference; Flip is a bad bad man; seriously: beware

A/N: You should not read this, but if you do, remember where you are and what we do here.

December 26

"Mom, you can’t do this."

The hotel dinette was dim, lit only by the handful of candles Lottie strategically placed atop the counters and the micro-sized table. There were two place settings, two tapered candles, two Dollar-store napkins folded into perfect hearts. Two, two, two because that was the goal. Lottie did not invite you to tonight’s festivities, and you watched with sad eyes as she flitted about, fussing with making this dingy hotel room 'romantic.'

There wasn't much in the way of belongings to show that people stayed here. Between the two of you, your things consisted only of three suitcases, your backpack, and a laptop case housing your six-year-old machine with a fan so loud it sounded like snoring. It was almost comical, but Lottie ridiculously ensured she made the bed and closed the bathroom door to hide away the evidence of, you know, existing as a human. She also ensured there was nothing to be seen of you or your shared past.

Lottie was 15 when you were born, a baby with a baby. She didn't like to be called mom because, with you 20, she was barely 35. 'That makes us more like sisters, anyway,' she often said. Having a child so young meant she never learned how to make adult decisions, and you both had been running from the consequences of her childish decisions for years now. 

"Lottie!"

She’d ignored you the first time because you called her mom. Playing her game, you raised your voice and smacked the table until she looked at you, exasperation and anxiety at war in her eyes. 

"You cannot trap this man. You come with more baggage than a Coach outlet store." You paused, exasperated as was often the case with Lottie. "You can’t keep doing this to people. To us."

To me.

She sniffed, pretending to be offended. Pausing in front of the black glass oven door, she touched up her lipstick before straightening her back, arrogant and far too assured of her plan.

"I’m sure I don’t know what you mean." She shooed you away with an airy wave of her too-thin hand. "Now, go. Flip will be here any minute."

Flip Zimmerman. Ten years Lottie's senior, extraordinarily handsome, and, God knows how, enamored with the creature your mother pretended to be. 

At the door, you stopped again, turning to implore her with a last look that she not do what she was planning, but she only gave you her brightest fake smile. A heavy sigh weighed your shoulders down because there was no talking her out of it.

“Colorado it is, I guess…” you muttered as Lottie shut the door in your face. “Fucking hell…”

December 28

He said yes.

There was no earthly reason for him to say yes. You and your mom had no money, no future. Nothing but a black-and-blue history and a chemo-trail of heartbreak stretching back as far as you could remember.

But he did, and you believed the only reason he did is because Lottie lied about everything. She lied about the number of husbands she’d had. Lied about why - and HOW - you ended up here in Colorado. Lied about her health. About fucking all of it. And no matter how much you wanted your mom to be alright, you simply couldn’t let the man fucking marry her under false pretenses, which is why you stood outside the building fidgeting, fighting yourself over whether you should go in and talk to him.

Honesty won out over fidelity, and you trudged inside. At the counter, you felt the first prick of tears because this was the sort of betrayal for which Lottie may never forgive you.

"Detective Zimmerman, please."

Your voice was deflated, hollow to match your spirit. You were about to sign away any chance your mother had to make a fresh start here in Colorado. You sunk down onto the rickety bench to wait, picking at your cuticles anxiously and kicking at the linoleum with your scruffy combat boots. Each moment you waited felt interminably long, and you grew more and more nauseated with each tick of the too-loud clock. Your brain screamed that you should run, leave here and let everything happen the way Lottie wanted, but your limbs were leaden. All but soldered to the damn floor.

“Hey, kid.” 

So lost in your thoughts, his smooth voice made you jump. You swiveled your head to meet his gaze and hugged yourself, feeling smaller already. You expected this to end badly, but just how badly you didn't know yet.

Flip stood to one side, holding open the small gate that pretended to keep people out here from going in there. He cocked his head slightly, showing that you should follow him through. You stood on wobbly legs and expelled a dubious breath. There was no turning back now. He led you through the maze of desks and into one of the interrogation rooms, pausing at the threshold to unplug the video camera affixed to the ceiling corner.

“For privacy,” he offered with an amiable smile before sliding onto the corner of the steel desk. “What’s up?”

A thousand words jumbled around inside your head. You struggled to pick one way to start even though you knew you stood there staring at the man your mother tricked into an engagement as though you were the perpetrator instead of she.

Was it hot in here? Your hands retreated into the over-sized sleeves of your hoodie as though hiding as much of yourself as possible would smooth things over.

“Youcantmarrymymomsheliedtoyouimsosorry…”

It all came out in one breath, words smashed together nonsensically. Wincing, you closed your eyes and leaned away from Flip, your body physically ready for him to explode. You knew from experience that angry men did bad things. You expected shouting, cursing, maybe some shoot the messenger. You weren’t expecting him to chuckle.

He fucking chuckled.

Round-eyed, you gasped as he stood, gaze trailing up, up, up. Flip Zimmerman wasn’t small. He was the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome in a way that made your insides tumble. If you were honest with yourself, jealousy colored some of your reluctance at letting Lottie trap him, though you'd die before admitting it. He was spectacular and beautiful, and he smoldered in that perfect way that would make a rational person forget their morals. He was whip smart, saw too much, and seemed to understand everything without hardly any effort at all.

And on top of all of it, he was a fucking cop. The same goddamn sort you’d spent years avoiding. And now, Lottie wanted to hitch her wagon - and yours - to one? No, thank you.

He wasn’t just dangerously good looking. He was dangerous, period.

"I know," he said.

When he inched closer, you thought he would reach out to touch your shoulder, to offer some sort of comfort. Instead, he kept moving forward at you, crowding you backwards until you bumped into the wall. 

"What?!" Shock crept over your face, furrowing your brow in confusion. You blinked rapidly to make your brain work better.

“Let's see if you're as stupid as she is, hm?"

The moment his voice dropped into deadly, your stomach followed it off the cliff and fell to your ankles. You didn’t realize you shook your head nonono until his gigantic hand snatched your chin to a halt.

“I don't understand,” you whispered, tongue thick and lips dry. “I knew she was planning to ask you, and I tried to stop her. I wanted you to kn–”

The hand gripping your chin slid up over your mouth, forcing your head against the concrete with a thump. Suddenly, you weren’t baring your soul to a caring individual. No, the reality was an angry bear trapped you, and there was no escape. His knee slid between yours, pinning you in place and sending your heart rate skyrocketing. 

"If I already know about Lottie, and I agreed to marry her anyway, it suggests that I want something. Doesn't it?"

You whimpered against his hand because none of this was right. Lottie thought she'd tricked him into being her salvation, but the truth was Flip understood the game all along. Twisting in his grip, you struggled to swing your head out from under his hand. You wanted to say you’d leave. You’d drag Lottie out of this town by the hair if it came to it.

"S'this how you always dress?"

Flip tilted his head to further take in your attire. You wished you'd worn anything in your suitcase other than this. Well-worn black combat boots, bare legs, black denim shorts, and a threadbare navy blue hoodie with peeling white letters made you feel too young, too much like a delinquent looking for a handout. His thick index finger trailed up the outside of your thigh, from knee to shorts hem, and he smirked as the muscles in your leg tensed.

“I’ll marry Lottie. I’ll take care of her, make sure she gets all the treatment she needs. I’ll even handle that pesky mafia ex-husband. I’ll handle all of it. Isn’t that what you want?” 

Using his hand on your mouth as a control, he forced you to nod. Your eyes watered over, making him blurry. Your guts twisted, sending acid shrapnel into your throat and making you heave beneath Flip's sweaty palm. You knew what he was going to say. It was obvious by the way he pinned you to the wall with his hips, trapping you with his broad body.

“You know what I want, don't you?” 

He paused for dramatic effect, and you hated him for it. He dangled everything you wanted in front of you like a goddamn golden carrot, and you felt like the biggest fool in all of Colorado for believing he was a good man about to be duped. Your face must have telegraphed it because he brushed his thumb across your cheekbone. 

"Hm. Not as dumb as you look."

He ate up the last bit of space between your face and his until you felt his coffee breath on the bridge of your nose. 

"Anywhere, anytime, every time I want." 

He punctuated the words by squeezing your mouth so hard a sharp cry erupted only to be properly muzzled by his oppressive mitt. Dread morphed into outright terror. No part of you believed Flip felt anything toward you besides lust and greed. You doubted he even liked you. Fuck, you’d settle for some sort of obsession, but this wasn't so simple as obsession. Flip wanted to own you. It was sadistic dominance through and through. Whore yourself out for him and maybe Lottie would live a little longer.

What choice did you have?

January 1

Flip married Lottie at the sparse courthouse downtown at three o'clock on New Year's Day. While the Justice of the Peace said a few words about how lucky they were to find love so swiftly, he placed a plain gold band on Lottie’s finger. Then, paperwork. You acted as the goddamn witness, signing right there next to his and hers in recognition of both this sham marriage and your own very real entrapment. All while you felt his glittering hazel eyes on you. 

Saying yes to him wasn't a choice. It was a foregone conclusion, and he'd known it from the minute you walked into the station house. He held all the cards from the first day. Resentment had roiled in your belly as you pieced it together in that grungy interrogation room, but you agreed. He was unlikely to be kind to you. Men with power liked to wield it, and he had all the power here. Every time he spoke to you, it flexed like a muscle.

After the ‘wedding,’ Flip treated you and Lottie to dinner at the nicest restaurant in town, followed by ice cream and a walk through downtown. He even held her hand, pausing from time to time to brush his knuckles along her jawline. He played the part of a considerate, doting partner so well it made you angry - angry because Lottie had just won the fucking lottery. 

At your expense.

Lottie's plan worked, though not the way she intended, and all she had to do now was live out her golden years on the porch while this handsome, compassionate husband doted on her but harassed you in the same house. Wallowing in your misery in the middle of dinner, you chewed on the ugly fat that, regardless of what you knew about Flip, she would do exactly that. You snorted aloud, drawing their attention - fucking hell, your parents. Flip’s mouth pursed into displeasure. His thick brow cocked over a decidedly displeased gaze.

“Shit. Sorry.” You frowned, more at the situation than yourself.

"Y’ok, Puddin'?"

Of course, she used that goddamn name. In front of him. In public. The nickname you hated since you were a kid and asked her a million times to stop using. Lottie was svelte, though less so these days, but you were soft. It was something she never made peace with - that you were her child and looked nothing like her, that your body type wasn't one she could be proud of. Biting back an argument you'd never win, you told yourself it was not that she was a terrible parent; rather, she simply wasn’t a particularly good one. 

You had no ready answer, though.

I’m ok, but I’m scared that your new husband is going to fuck me into pieces. Yeah, Lottie, I’m peachy-keen; I’m a little anxious because I don’t know when my hooking contract begins. Is it tonight? Tomorrow? Maybe you could get your fella to give me the details on that, m’kay?

Instead, you swallowed down bile and chased it with ice water.

“Yeah, I’m ok. Sorry.”

Following the lovers’ stroll, Flip drove you and Lottie back to the hotel to collect your things, even pitching in to carry the suitcases back to his Bronco as though he were the knight in shining armor and not the goddamn villain. 

At his place, Flip pointed you to your room at the end of the hall, next door to a puny, pea green bathroom. Hoping to be inconspicuous, you checked the doorknob for a lock, but you had less than no luck because though there was a lock, Flip caught you testing it and shook his head imperceptibly. A warning. Chattering obliviously, Lottie confirmed they would share the master bedroom on the second floor. Eyes trailing to the stairs, you realized you never asked Lottie if she’d slept with Flip, and now, you never wanted to know.

Ever.

Mashing your lips together, you stood stone silent in the hallway. Maybe if they kept talking, this nightmare wouldn’t truly begin. But your body, tight from nerves, was exhausted, and you yawned loud enough to crack your jaw. For the second time tonight, all eyes were on you. It was an incredibly uncomfortable place to be. Tutting about how sleepy you must be after such a big day, Lottie rushed over and folded you into a weak embrace. She never was one for hugs, but this was part of the package she had to keep selling.

"Everything is fine." She murmured it as quietly as she could before turning and letting Flip lead her towards the stairs. She was three up before you realized Flip wasn’t following her.

“Go on up,” he said with a warmth you wouldn’t assume him capable. “I’ll be right there. Gotta show the kid where the car's parked.”

Too soon, she was gone, and he was right there, heating the cooler air with nothing more than his proximity. The further he leaned in, the further you leaned away until your back pressed against the wall, too similar to your last meeting for comfort. Front to front, there wasn't enough room in this microscopic hallway for you to not touch him. Panic took over, and your eyes scanned the same two feet of ceiling and floor again and again, looking for an escape.

“The car is in the garage next to mine. Be at the station at noon tomorrow.”

He pushed keys into your hand, but you weren’t paying attention - not even a bit. The stress of the last few days, the agitation from the way his broad shoulders kept you penned, crept into your bones, making room for a fatigue unlike any you’d known. And you'd known your fair share of dead ass tired. Your glassy eyes drifted, missing the way his hand shot out lightning fast. Cutting through your delirium, thick fingers tightened around your neck. Adrenaline surged as he lifted you onto the tips of your toes. The keys clattered to the ground when you wrapped both hands around his wrist in an absurd effort to stop him from choking you out.

“You are fucking stupid, aren't you?” It wasn't only his tone that changed. Now, he talked to you like you were a simpleton, which you might truly be. “Tomorrow, you’ll drive the car to the station for lunch, yes? Lunch is at noon. That’s what time human beings eat lunch. Yes? You will be there at noon. Say it.”

His fingers eased slightly, allowing you an unsteady breath before wheezing out the words he wanted.

“Lunch. Noon.”

Finally, sweet Jesus, finally, he let you go. You fell back into the room, hitting your ass on the floor and rubbing at your affronted neck. He kicked the car keys at you before pulling the door closed. Dazed and drained, you sat right there, right where you fell, until you heard his footsteps retreat. He stomp, stomp, stomped upstairs in his loud boots and closed the door to the master bedroom.

God, if you had to hear them fucking, you didn’t know what you’d do. Throw yourself off a bridge tomorrow, perhaps.

January 2

The last time you looked at the clock, it was 3:47 a.m.

Despite your weariness, nerves kept you awake far into the night. The effects of Flip’s manhandling didn’t wear off until close to midnight, and after that, you sat vigil, staring at the door and expecting him to burst through it. You listened for movement upstairs, footsteps in the hall. You watched the doorknob in your room, the one you locked even though he might murder you for it, until you couldn’t see it clearly anymore. As long as he didn't test the knob, you told yourself it would be fine. He'd be gone to work before they could reasonably expect you to face the day, but rationalizing it and believing it were two very different things.

No, it wasn’t so much that you fell asleep; your body simply shut down on its own. You didn’t decide to rest. Your brain said watch; your body said sleep. You didn’t even dream.

You woke to the crashing sound of a kicked in door. You shouted and tried to leap from the bed, but your assailant was too quick, too nimble for such a goddamn giant. Flip grabbed you by the neck and threw you onto the bed. His giant hands dug bruises into your arm and leg as he flipped you onto your stomach. A knee in the center of your back kept you in place as he ripped your flimsy tank top and panties away as though they were tissue paper. You flailed, trying to find some kind of balance to get your head out of the cotton blanket so you could breathe.

When you finally managed a gulp of air, it was only because he switched from pinning you down to crowding behind you. He caged your legs in place with his jean-clad knees on either side of your thighs. Shoving a pillow beneath your pelvis, he planted his palm between your shoulder blades to hold you in place again. You didn’t scream until you heard the buckle of his belt come loose.

"Flip! No, no! I'm sorry! Lottie! Help!"

Within 30 seconds, two things happened that would change your life forever. The first was that the meaty paw on your back moved upwards, palm curving along your scalp, fingers threading into the hair. He used that new leverage to press your face further down into the mattress, cutting off both your screams and your air supply. The second was that Flip’s cock, hard and unforgiving, forced its way into your body, gouging and stabbing at you with no regard for your readiness.

You howled as the tender flesh gave way to his violence. No part of your body was a match to his sheer size. Hysteria took over. You yelled yourself hoarse. Spasms rocked your lungs. You couldn't tell the difference between a lurching cough and a breath anymore until your body nearly inhaled the fabric you lay upon. 

“Tried to be nice to you.” He grunted, shoving more of his iron dick into your tightness, having to work to make room for himself there. “Was gonna ease you into it a little at a time.” Your screams and sobs seemed to excite him further because his hum broke through your fugue and launched you into thrashing again. “But you’re too fucking stupid to do things the right way; so, here we are.”

At last, his pelvis pushed flush against your ass. His fingers dug into your hip so roughly you could feel his nails gouging dirty trenches. They, and the already blooming bruises, would be the first of many marks you’d wear for Flip, no doubt. You gave up flailing backwards at him and clawed at the bed as though you could get away through it, a wounded and frightened animal under the thumb of a malicious predator.

Your only saving grace was oxygen deprivation. You started to not notice how he withdrew nearly completely only to slam his way back home, through a wetness that was certainly blood. You started to not notice the way he slapped your jiggling ass hard enough to raise a print in seconds. You were gone to the encroaching blackness, light-headed enough to think that maybe you actually  were the stupidest person on the planet. More so than even Lottie. 

Unconsciousness wasn’t a respite he allowed you for long, however. You snapped back into yourself, still caught beneath the monster, still stuffed to the very brim by his missile cock, still practically scalped by the ruthless grip he had of your hair. He controlled whether you got to breathe by which way he turned that handle. The only difference was that he now hovered over you. His free palm lay above your head, bracing himself on the mattress - the mattress that shook from the force of his thrusts as he fucked into you relentlessly.

“Rules.”

His hips rammed forward, punching what scant oxygen you got right back out of your chest. When you tried to look up at him, to plead for your life or some other such nonsense, your eyes crossed, making you dizzy. You squeezed them shut tight, matching the way you pressed your lips together to keep from screaming some more.

"When I say come, you come. And you are never late. Say you understand."

His words were smooth - like he wasn’t currently sawing your cunt in two. Your throat felt as though you’d swallowed the whole Sahara desert, but you forced it to work, raspy and broken.

"I un-der-stand."

He hummed again, and for a good, long moment, his pace kicked up into a frenzy.  Your pussy had finally caught up to his invasion, lengthening fully to allow him all the way in, and he took full advantage. You bounced off the bed only to be plowed back down into it.

"Never lock this door again."

Sweat dampened your skin from crown to toes, the muscles overworked and the chemicals overtaxed from horror and assault. You could hear your blood rushing through your veins, your brain pounding in time to your pulse. Could a person go into shock slowly? Your fingertips and toes tingled, and your jaws ached from how valiantly you tried to keep your shit together.

"Flip," you croaked, unable to stop yourself from crying again. "Please." It was idiotic to tell him he was hurting you. Hurting you was the point, but survival instincts are strong, and your mouth carried right on blabbering. "Too much. Please stop."

You didn’t think it was possible for his cock to get larger or more adept at plundering your wounded pussy for everything it had, but somehow, it was. He growled at your begging, licking up a bead of sweat from your temple. Pedal to the floor, his piston hips never slowed. His cock never wavered. 

“This is your life now.” His malevolent words tickled the shell of your ear. “If you don't want to be raped every day, I suggest you learn the rules. Am I understood, Puddin'?" He drew the last word out, and you knew Lottie told him you hated it.

You crumbled. There was nothing for it. He put words to what this was, and it crushed you. Assault. Rape. Punishment. 

You’d either behave for him, give him what he wanted, or this would be the consequence. This and the fact he’d leave Lottie to her own devices. Ignoring your latest round of sobs and hiccups, Flip released his hold of your hair to slither that arm beneath you. Rigid fingers wrapped around your throat, constricting your air in a much more intimate fashion. He tilted your head to the left, baring the column of your throat for him to lick a fat stripe up, enjoying the way it trembled as you broke down. 

“That’s it.” He huffed in your ear, hips losing their rhythm and becoming erratic. “Keep crying for me."

A car door slammed out in front of the house, and you froze. Both your salvation and your humiliation lie right on the other side of the front door. Your fingers curled into fists, and you unconsciously wiggled beneath your tormentor. Flip wasn't phased in the least. The only sign he gave that he cared Lottie was right out there was that he switched from ramming himself into you roughshod to pushing in as far as he could and rocking against your ass. Deep, deep inside you, the head of his cock brushed against your bruised cervix, eliciting an unwelcome shiver. Keys jangled in the lock, and you were certain Lottie would walk in on her brand-new husband sunk to the hilt inside of his brand-new step-daughter.

At the last conceivable second, Flip mashed his mouth against your bare shoulder, teeth finding purchase in the skin, and groaned with satisfaction as his weaponized cock emptied into your battered cunt.

By the time Lottie’s voice floated through the house - Helloooo? Anybody home? - Flip was off you, clothes righted. He darted out of your room, pulling the door shut behind him with a near silent click. You listened as he called out that he was in the living room before you pulled the pillow he’d nearly suffocated you with over your head to muffle their conversation.

You curled into a ball, willing sleep to come take you again. You deserved it after all that, didn’t you? Your fingers searched for the clock, setting an alarm so that maybe tomorrow would be better than today.

Before you passed out, you spied a scrap of paper on the nightstand where you'd left Flip's keys last night. The words made you want to vomit, cementing the fact that you were well and truly up shit creek no matter what you did. 

Took the car to do some shopping. Will be back by the time Flip's home. (Hopefully. Ha!) -Lottie

#flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman smut #flip zimmerman imagine #flip zimmerman x you #flip zimmerman x reader #dead dove do not eat #entrapped #maybe not so friendly neighborhood torturer