#flip zimmerman smut

[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.

[rynwritesstuff]

Into the West - Sheriff!Flip Zimmerman x Reader

Sheriff!Flip Zimmerman x Reader

Warnings: Brief period-accurate shittiness towards women, mentions of blood, brief violence, NSFW, (unprotected) PIV sex, dirty talk

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: Based on a request by the magnificent @safarigirlsp! Sheriff Flip and reader have some eye-opening sex after an incident at the saloon, which reader runs.

The sun is setting over the small Western town. There’s a breeze – soft but there nonetheless – and Sheriff Zimmerman’s hair blows gently before he puts his hat back on. His boots dig into the sandy road as he walks along. His head is held high and his gun is holstered at his hip. Women turn to look as he passes by, and he bites back a smile as he chews on his tobacco. 

Horses whinny and neigh, carriage wheels turn, and working men grunt. The sounds of the town are music to Sheriff Zimmerman’s ears. Nothing is awry. Nothing is out of place. Nothing is wrong. He turns the corner, brows furrowing as the bright sunset peers down at him through the clouds. Zimmerman brings a hand up, blocking the light from his view as he continues on down the way. 

“Sheriff?” a voice calls. Zimmerman looks around as quick footsteps approach. The Sheriff smiles, glad to see his good friend, John Bartlett, approaching. He’s a small man with strawberry hair and red cheeks to match. His brows are knit together, but Sheriff Zimmerman hopes that it’s because of the bright sun and not out of concern. “Ah,” Zimmerman says, “John. Evenin’–”

“There’s a tussle in the saloon,” John tells Zimmerman. “The owner, she–”

John is hardly able to get his words out before Sheriff Zimmerman is taking off down the road, hand flying down to his gun. He knows you’re working tonight. Oh, for Christ’s sake, you work every damn night. You work too much, you deal with too many men who wanna play with fire, something was bound to happen at some point, wasn’t it? 

Zimmerman bursts into the saloon, hand still resting on his holstered gun. People’s heads turn. The music isn’t playing, but Zimmerman figures that it hasn’t been for a while. It almost always stops when something starts happening. It’s in people’s nature to wanna hear the goings on, he supposes. 

“Don’t fucking touch me!” comes a loud, familiar voice. Your voice. Zimmerman’s eyes widen, and as he surges forward to round the corner, he hears the sound of glass shattering, then stumbling. He turns the corner, and just as he does, a man falls to the ground in front of him. Zimmerman moves back so that the gentleman doesn’t fall on him, then looks up with wild, confused eyes. You stand in front of the floored man, a broken bottle in hand. Your chest, which is accentuated by your corseted dress, rises and falls quickly.

Your eyes meet the Sheriff’s and he steps up to you as everyone in the room goes silent. He says your name, soft and purposeful. You watch as he approaches you. 

“Let me have that,” Zimmerman says, reaching for the jagged bottle top. You move away. He pauses, then says your name again. 

“The fucker came at me,” you say quickly. You gesture to your arm. “He grabbed me right here, right here–”

“If he tries again, I’ll shoot ‘im,” Zimmerman says in that honest tone of his. You know he’s not lying to you like all the other men in this town do. “Give me to bottle, I don’t want you t’cut yourself.”

You exhale softly, then hand it over. Zimmerman looks at the man on the ground. His head is bleeding where you hit him, and he’s groaning softly. He’s covered in beer and broken glass, and you clench your jaw at the sight. He tries to get up, but Zimmerman nudges him back down. He groans. 

“Let him get back up,” you say, adrenaline pumping. “Let him come at me again, I swear I’ll–”

“I’ll take it from here,” Sheriff Zimmerman says firmly, looking back at you. “Are you hurt?”

You shake your head. His eyes dart down to your hand, the one holding the bottle. You look down too. Blood drips from your hand to the hardwood floor. You didn’t even feel it. You bring your hand up to rest against your chest carefully, letting yourself bleed onto your dress. It’ll come out, you remind yourself. It’ll come right out. 

Zimmerman grabs a pair of cuffs from his belt, then demands that the man on the ground roll onto his stomach. He does so slowly, clearly not wanting to get further hurt by the glass, but the Sheriff doesn’t seem to care all that much about the glass as he leans down and chains the man’s wrists together. He yanks him up to his feet, then starts towards the door. You let out another shaky breath, then look around the saloon. 

“Get back to your drinks,” you say grimly. You turn away as the music starts back up. You throw the bottle top into the trash, then reach for the broom with trembling hands. Your hand. You feel it, now, the sharp, throbbing pain in it, and pause. One of the barkeeps approaches you with a small smile. 

“I’ll get the mess,” she says to you. “Go wash up.”

You nod, then silently move upstairs to your quarters. There’s an angry lump in your throat. The audacity of that man, you think as you start the water in your washroom. The fucking nerve of him to put his hands on me. I should’ve jammed that broken bottle right into his–

You shake your head as you pull some alcohol from the cupboard and unscrew the top. 

“Fuckin’ Zimmerman,” you whisper. You pour the alcohol over the cut, cringing as you do. “I had it all under-control. Everything was under fuckin’ control.”

The sun has almost completely set, now, and when you put your hand beneath the warm running water, you glance out the window at the town you love so dearly. You really do find this town beautiful and full of hope – if only the men would stop treating you like garbage. 

How many times have you had to defend yourself like this? How many times have you had to push back or pull away or tell a man off? What a curse it is to live in a time where men don’t know how to treat a goddamn woman right.

Still, life goes on. The saloon draws in money, enough for you to keep this place open and thriving. You’ve made a name for yourself out here. You know damn-near everyone’s drink orders by heart, you know names and faces, you know the different walks of life your patrons come from. That’s a gift, being able to hold all of it.

But sometimes you’re tired, and tonight is one of those nights. You dry off your hand and wrap it up, not knowing how much time has passed. On your way back downstairs, you hear feet coming up. The footfall is heavy – a man’s. Your heart surges, and you consider turning back, going to get your gun, but it’s pointless when you see who it is. You exhale. 

“You fuckin’ scared me, Zimmerman,” you huff as the Sheriff ascends the steps. He offers you a smile. 

“You’ve got a filthy mouth, ma’am,” he tells you as he continues towards you. 

“Tell me something I don’t already know,” you say, crossing your arms. Zimmerman stops on the step beneath yours, but he’s so tall that you still have to tilt your head to look him in the eye like this. His smile widens. 

“I thought about you all day long, miss.”

The corner of your mouth turns up. You hate how soft he makes you, but you also fucking love it.

“All day? How’s that?”

“Well,” the Sheriff starts, sliding his hands over your hips, “I woke up and thought about you while I washed up. Then, I thought about you while I got dressed, and headed down to the jail, and–”

“Alright, alright,” you say, pushing at his chest. “Enough’a that.”

Zimmerman catches your wrist. His smile fades slightly. 

“Your hand. It’s alright?”

You nod. 

“Just a small cut,” you say. 

“I’m glad you got ‘im before I did,” he says. You sigh. You know what he means. 

“I know,” you say, looking away. Zimmerman squeezes your hips. 

“Lookit me.” You do. “I’m here to give you a good time.”

Somehow, that lump in your throat is back. Are you angry, still? Or is it something else, do you think? You’ve got half a mind to wrap your arms around him and cry. That’s so unlike you. He knows you’re sweet on him, though, and he is, too. He’d probably welcome any crying, any tears you’ve got in you, but you just can’t. 

“A good time. Zimmerman, what–”

“Don’t call me that,” the Sheriff says quietly. It’s a soft request. A prayer. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck. 

“Flip.”

“Mm.”

“What’re you gonna do to show me a good time, Flip?”

“The same thing I do everytime.”

“No. Give me more than that.”

Flip looks taken aback. His brows furrow slightly. 

“More?”

“That’s right. More. I give all’a myself to this town just to be met with perverts and angry prostitutes and people tryin’ to take down my business, so yes.” You clench your jaw and bring your hands to his cheeks. “I want more.”

Flip glances at your lips, then presses his firmly against them. You sigh, letting your body move forward against his. You pull yourself into him, kissing him back with fervor. 

“I’ll give ya whatever you want, sweetheart,” Flip breathes in-between kisses as you grab onto his collar and tug him up the stairs with you. He goes willingly, and when you reach the top step, Flip pulls you down the hallway to get to your quarters. He turns the handle, and the two of you move inside. He kicks it shut behind him. You unbuckle his belt and toss it aside, letting his gun and other things clatter on the dresser. You unbutton his shirt quickly. 

“Get me out of this dress,” you tell him. He begins to undo it, kissing you again. He lets out a soft grunt against your mouth. He must know that you need this. He must be alright with that. The thought makes you want to weep. 

Flip pulls your dress off and throws it aside, then tugs your shift up over your head, leaving you bare in front of him. You reach down to undo your boots and toss them aside while he shrugs off his shirt. Your body is properly revealed to him when you get your boots off and stand up straight. Flip looks you up and down as you move towards him, and he puts his hands on your cheeks. 

“Prettiest girl in the West,” he says. He kisses you, then, and you never were a religious woman, but this is how you imagine Heaven. If you were to die tonight, you’d die happy and needed. Flip Zimmerman always makes you feel that way. Christ, maybe Heaven isn’t a place, but a feeling. Maybe it’s the way the sunset turns the sky pink and orange. Maybe it’s the way the saloon feels after nine o’clock when the drinks are strong and the music is loud. Or, maybe it’s the way Flip Zimmerman holds your face like you’re the most fragile thing he’s ever seen – like you're the only woman around.

Either way, you’re here now, and you have him like this, and anything else happening outside of this room is unimportant. You get on the bed and Flip follows after you eagerly. 

“Take the rest of your clothes off and get over here,” you tell him, leaning back and watching as he undresses. He chuckles softly. 

“You’re mighty bossy tonight.”

“I’ve got a lot on my mind,” you tell him. “I’ve got a lot that I want.”

Flip finishes undressing, his cock hard and proud, you see, and you beckon him towards the bed. He gets on top of you easily and nudges himself against your core. You spread your legs further for him, inviting him to press on.

One of your hands moves up to hold onto his hair, and the other hand rests on his shoulder. You lean up and nibble at his jaw as he presses his tip inside of you. You inhale sharply, then let out a satisfied hum. 

“C’mon, Sheriff,” you breathe, “give it to me rough.”

Flip smiles against you, then thrusts the rest of the way in. You gasp again, brows furrowing.  “Oh, right there,” you sigh. “Right there, give me more, Flip.”

Flip draws his hips back, then pushes them forward again. Your body bounces with each fast thrust. His cock hits your sweet spot over and over and over, and your moans get louder each time. Surely they can hear you downstairs, but you don’t care. How could you when you’ve got Flip like this? How could you, when he’s making you feel this fucking good? You tug at his hair. 

“Is this – Mmm – enough?” Flip asks as he fucks you harshly. You tug on his hair again. 

“Yes, it’s enough, Zimmerman. M-Making me sound n-needy . . . Oh, fuck . . .”

“Not needy,” Flip shakes his head. “Just a woman w-who knows what she wants.”

Your grip on him tightens. He gets you. You like to pretend that he doesn’t sometimes, but he truly does. There’s not another man like Flip Zimmerman. You’ll never need another man as badly as you need him. Hot tears spring into your eyes. 

You’ll never love another man the way you love him. 

“I like a man who u-understands,” you breathe. You smile at him as he pounds into you. Your core clenches around his cock, begging him for more, and he obliges without needing to be told. He gets it. Whatever it is, he gets it. You can always count on that. 

You wrap your legs around him as you pull him closer. You hold him against you, keeping his firm body against yours. It almost feels like an embrace, holding him like this. It almost feels perfect. It almost feels like Heaven. 

“Please,” you breathe. 

“I know, sweetheart,” Flip grunts. He’s close. You moan. 

“Mm, please!”

“I’m almost there,” Flip promises. Sweat beads at his hairline as he continues, and you groan. 

“Fuck, fuck . . . Flip!”

You feel him pull out suddenly, and he grunts as he jerks his cock until he’s cumming across your stomach with a moan. His eyes flutter and his cheeks flush. You love seeing him come undone for you. Your chest rises and falls quickly as you look up at him. You tuck a few pieces of hair behind his ears, then smile at him. 

“How was that?” Flip asks. He goes to grab his handkerchief off of the floor, but you stop him. You don’t want him to pull away just yet. You nod, then kiss him again, blissed out from what he gave to you. You moan quietly against his mouth. 

“More than enough, Sheriff.”

Tagging a few friends: @mrs-gucci @babbushka @safarigirlsp

rynwritesstuff, 2025 | Divider by saradika-graphics

[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!

[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.”

[meadow-anderson]

can someone PLEASE help me im desperate lmao, i remember reading some flip zimmerman smut and it was flip (and the whole department) having to do like a nearly nude photoshoot/calander for charity and then the reader walks in on them shooting it and it turns into smut. IT WAS SO MOTHERFUCKIN HOT AND I CANNOT FIND IT FOR THE LIFE OF ME PLS Y'ALL

[thetorturerwrites]

Entrapped Ch 2: No Such Luck

Summary: The bathroom next to your room is too fucking small.

Historic tags: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT; rape/non-con; extremely dubious consent; age difference; Flip is a bad bad man; seriously: beware

Brand-new tags: Piss, fellatio, battery

A/N: You should not read this, but if you do, remember where you are and what we do here.

January 9

Flip gave you a week to heal. For seven days, he spoke to you normally, treated you kindly, and behaved as though nothing had ever happened between you. The house was quiet - a perfect nuclear family. Lottie clucked on and on about how pleased she was the two of you got along so well, and it was all you could do to not throw the nearest knick knack or lamp at her. But after the third day, he started looking at you with that predatorial gleam in his hazel eyes. It wasn’t just that he tracked your movements; it was that he made sure you knew he did so. In a subtle power move, he’d shift his boot or tap his lighter against the table - any small thing to draw your gaze so you’d see him clocking you, taking stock of how wobbly you walked or how deeply you winced. You couldn’t remember a time when you felt so fucking anxious.

Your clock ran out at 7:57 a.m. on a Monday morning.

Having learned your lesson about locked doors, you stood at the tiny green bathroom sink brushing your teeth with your eyes closed. You couldn't bear to look in the mirror these days. The person who stared back at you looked haggard, conflicted, haunted. She had no options and wouldn't know what to do with one if it hit her square between the eyes. Instead, you spent every day praying your tormentor was busy, uninterested, or just fucking gone. His job kept him away, and as nice as it was to take a breath in his absence, Lottie was unbearable when he wasn't there to witness her performances. When she didn't have him to focus on, she hyper focused on you and all the ways you differed. For the last three days, you'd wondered if you'd prefer his scrutiny to hers. He was a walking terror, but at least he was something to look at.

Shaking off the foolishness, you chided yourself for that line of thinking because nothing good would ever come your way at the hands of Flip Zimmerman. You needed to get that shit out of your head post haste. Yesterday, even. 

The man must be fucking psychic, though, because as you spit out the last of the toothpaste, telling yourself to get it the fuck together, the rickety door creaked open, edging inwards at the behest of a dusty boot. A veritable wall unto himself, Flip filled the frame completely, observing you for so long you fidgeted. Crossing python arms over his white thermal clad chest, he leaned against the jamb and sucked on a toothpick obnoxiously loud.

“Lottie?”

You didn’t recognize your voice. It was small, afraid, and it trembled where you wished with all your might you could be strong. If she was awake, though, the likelihood you’d suffer for the next however long was much lower.

His voice, however, burned into your gray matter. It raised your heckles, curled your toes, and set your teeth to grinding. 

“Asleep.”

You smashed your lips together, as if you could stop the fear from escaping the bottom of your gullet. The world closed in, tunnel vision taking over because one person crowded the poorly designed bathroom; so, when Flip pushed off the doorjamb and stepped inside, you felt emphatically trapped. And terrified. He let the door click shut behind him and moved around you, moving far too stealthily for a behemoth. 

You held your breath and dared not look. 

When you didn’t hear the jangle of his belt until he’d passed you, your jaw unclenched in barely restrained relief. You hardly breathed, thanking the almighty that Flip's plan was to pee and not introduce your face to the grimy tiled floor. Cautious, you lowered the toothbrush to the sink, hoping you could flee if your steps were quick and careful. If you didn't agitate the beast, he could forget you existed.

You should have known better. You had no such luck. 

Maybe it was the way you shuddered, or maybe you reached for the doorknob a smidge too fast. Something tripped his trigger, and he snatched the thought of escape right out of your brain with five thick fingers tangled into the hair at the back of your head. He had decades of experience subduing people on his side, and you were just an idiot with high hopes. In a flash, he had you on your knees in front of him, forcing his spongy dick into your mouth.

You didn't register that the floor was cold. Nor the smell of starch in his pants. Nor the burning in your nose, eyes, scalp. You missed it all because the first hot drop of salty urine launched you into an outright atomic panic. Your muffled yells bounced off the dingy walls, and you beat at his corded thighs. Crying wasn’t the right word for what you did. Your eyes leaked, and your chest seized, but it was more than sadness, more than anger or dread. It was revulsion. It was horror, and you flailed frantically against his grip, which did not, even for a millisecond, weaken.

“Shut the fuck up.” 

He groused, but you just could not. What scant bit of self-respect you had left would not allow you to do this without a fight, but it was a fight with which Flip swiftly tired. Further exerting his control of the situation, he stepped closer, tipped your head back more, and bypassed any conscious function you may have had for this vulgarity. He took away your option to even swallow of your own accord and pissed directly down your throat while you frothed and retched, sending it dribbling out at the corners of your mouth and shooting up into your sinus cavities.

It was more than humiliation, more than objectification. He never thought of you as a person, you knew, but this was a level of degradation you could not comprehend.

When he finished, he yanked your head backwards off of his spit-soaked dick but did not release his hold. You heaved and coughed, trying so goddamn hard to do it quietly because there was no snowball’s chance in hell you’d ever be able to explain why you were on your knees at his feet if Lottie showed up. But the smell of it was everywhere, and you sobbed. Confusion and disgust and fury and… fucking everything passed through your mind, but you couldn't settle on only one. Somehow, this was worse than what he’d already done, and you suddenly weren’t sure if he intended for you to survive this bargain.

He meant to torture you to death. To do all the heinous things a person could think of but couldn't get away with legally. He had you dead to rights, and he intended to make the indecent most of it. 

“Why the fuck do you only wear the same three things all the time?”

On another day, you might have pretended to be offended. This was your favorite hoodie, and it had hidden you from many a wandering eye. But today, with your shit rocked so thoroughly, you couldn't argue. Your jeans were more holes than pants, you could barely tell your hoodie used to be black, and your bra only had one good hook left. Your lungs thickened with colliding shames. Your stomach sloshed, and when you thought about why, you battled nausea all over again. Pushing the heels of your hands deep into both overflowing eyes, you forced yourself to breathe in through the nose, despite the smell, and out through the mouth.

“Lottie…”

It was all you could say, and it occurred to you it was the only word you’d said to Flip since he opened the door.

Whatever he felt about the thoroughness of your answer, Flip’s fingers tightened in your hair again, and he drew you back against his groin. You understood what he meant for you to do. Hell, any logical person would understand what he meant for you to do, and the sooner you got on with it, the sooner he’d lose interest and go the fuck to work. Squeezing your eyes shut tight, you opened your mouth and took him once more.

Sucking cock wasn’t historically your favorite thing, but it wasn’t particularly unpleasant. Losing yourself to the rhythm made it easier to bear. In addition, your blow job recipients never lasted very long, which also made the task easier to bear. Instinctively, you knew that would not be the case now, but if you could zone out, everything would be over soon…soon-ish.

With your nose brushing against Flip’s pelvis, you swirled your tongue around his semi-soft dick and coaxed it to life. Each twitch and jump told you what he liked, and it wasn’t long before he was half-mast and long enough for you to bob back and forth - root to tip, tip to root, root to tip, tip to root. He continued growing and hardening far past what you expected, though. His cock was fuller and longer than any you’d had before, and it was overwhelming.

The smell of him was everywhere, as was his taste. Not salty like his piss, but not sweet. It was a heady mix of spice and sweat, and it absolutely should not have tasted good.  The way he guided your head with his large hand and the feel of his erratic heartbeat in the throb of his veins married that taste, and it fucking worked. Without really doing much, he fucked you all the way up, and you lost yourself in the obscenity of it. Sucking Flip’s cock was messy and loud. He coaxed more saliva from the back of your mouth until it was so noisy you were sure Lottie would hear, each slurp joining the roar in your ears. When he’d lengthened too much for you to fit in your mouth, you wrapped your hands around the base to tug and twist.

And when he hummed? That pleased sound deep in his chest? You. Were. Fucking. Gone. There was no bathroom, no house. There was no bruised past or million dollar hospital bill. There was no Lottie, no Colorado. There was only Flip’s thick, weighty cock.

“Not the first dick you’ve sucked, is it? Look at me.”

Maintaining your (surprisingly) enthusiastic pace, you shifted your weight and tipped your head back - far too similar to exactly what he’d done when he pissed in your mouth five goddamn minutes ago - and opened watery zombie eyes on him. Cotton-brained, you stared. You no longer existed in the world regular humans lived in. There was only this, only him.

“Rules,” he said, his large body curving towards you to ensure his low talk didn’t carry. “No more pants. No panties. No bra. Your ass is mine, and I want unfettered access to it. Understand?”

You weren’t in a rush to respond, too drunk on the delicacy of his dick and the way it stabbed at your throat. His words buzzed in the decision-making part of your brain, but you ignored it and forced yourself all the way down on his cock, hungrily cutting off your own airway. He groaned, tightening his grip in your hair and jerking you backwards for the second time this morning.

Your mouth hung agape, and your chest spasmed with how hard you fought to suck in air. You didn’t want to think. Flip choking you out with his monster-sized cock was a much more straightforward path to not thinking, and you outright whimpered when he batted your hand away from reaching for him.

“Say you understand.”

“Hnng. I.. un…der…stand..”

His gaze was fire, and it burned you from your crown down. 

“You want more?” You didn’t need him to nod for you this time. “Yeah? Want me to fuck this filthy mouth of yours until you black out?”

Alien noises erupted from your throat, and you felt your body surge towards him, straining to steal exactly what he asked. You even licked your lips when he finally let go of your hair and straightened upright, thinking he would deliver on the promise, but he cracked you so hard across the mouth that your head knocked straight into the sink. 

It's funny, you thought; slaps don’t ever sound like slaps.

Bell rung, you held your swelling forehead and shook the stars from your eyes. He snatched you up by the chin, amazing you yet again at how goddamn fast he moved.

“Too fucking bad.” His tone was lethal, barely above a whisper, and what he said next proved everything you thought about him to be true. “You’re going to suffer for me, Puddin’, and you’ll be wide awake every fucking minute of it.”

Your lips trembled, and your eyes stung with fresh tears. You slumped back onto your ass and shrunk away from him, watching numbly as he stuffed his hardness back into the dark jeans and re-buckled his belt. You’d gone from some sort of fucked up euphoria to burning humiliation and icy terror - AGAIN - so goddamn fast that you couldn’t make a single sound - not a sigh, not a hiccup. Nothing.

“Get up. We’re going into town to get you something more appropriate to wear.”

[l0vergirlsw0rld]

adam designated driver

intoxicated!readerxcaretaker!adam

a/n: adam driver is maybe like the love of my life I hope he reads well. this is also an older fic but maybe 2020-ish?

wc: 2.3k

18+ MDNI | no smut but sexual themes

summary: Y/N went out and had a few too many, when trying to call a taxi driver, she taps her friend adam's contact instead.

"Can I get a whiskey sour?!"You managed to shout over the pulsating bass.

The bartender nodded, turning around to grab the bottles he needed. 

He was in his mid-twenties, sporting a thick beard and jewelry: trendy black stretchers, multiple rings on his fingers, and bead bracelets that swung from his wrists as he shook the shaker vigorously.

You observed his rings up close as slid your fifth drink of the night in front of you.  You shouted a 'thank you' and passed him the money. The chilled glass froze your palm as you grabbed it. You winced hissed.

You were already intoxicated, which resulted in you feeling warmer than usual. You began to drink your cocktail, wincing from the prominent bourbon taste hitting your tongue. 

Turning to the dance floor on your bar stool, you observed your friends dancing provocatively in front of the men.

They would grind on each other and kiss for the sake of attention as if their clothing alone wouldn't draw attention, and it would work every time. Men who were complete strangers would buy you and your friends multiple rounds throughout the night hoping to get lucky.

Tonight, you all wore matching tight-fitted black mini skirts and tops that barely covered your chest. Your outfit in question was uncomfortable, to say the least, but it was like wearing a costume. When you'd dress like that, it was as if you were a new person, for one night. You immediately gained a newfound confidence and your adventurous side would come out to play.

You grinned against your glass, chuckling to yourself.

How you loved being a woman.

You scootch off the seat, stumbling, trying to find your footing. Your sense of balance was terrible when you were drunk and your heels did not help with that at the moment. 

Eventually, you made your way to your friends on the dance floor, joining the small circle to include yourself again.

"Y/N! There you are, I missed you!" Your little blonde friend threw herself on you. You caught her in your arms, laughing. 

The six of you danced to the beat. Hips swaying, arms in the air, hair flying everywhere. You could feel the blood pumping through your veins, and sweat forming on your forehead, but you didn't care you were having so much fun.

our arms were raised in a state of intoxicated freedom as you tried to keep up with your friends, whose energy seemed endless.

Your fingertips tingled as you waved your hands to the rhythm, and your feet grew numb from the constant stomping.

Your head felt heavy on your neck, and your eyelids became harder to keep open. You were running out of breath.

Your movements turned sloppy as your body began to fatigue, even though your mind insisted you had more energy than you actually did. Your chest heaved, struggling to breathe in the tight top.

A couple hours went by and the club slowly began to empty out as people left in small crowds. The night was approaching its end. 

You were seated in a booth with fewer friends, all of you trying to call your drives home.

Your vision was blurry as you fiddled with your phone, trying to hold it properly.

The aggressive blue light blinded you. You squinted, opening your contacts app.

A few scrolls down and you found your usual Taxi Driver's phone number.

You pressed it, bringing your phone close to your ear. The ringing echoed loudly in your ears as you drunkenly awaited a response. He finally answered. 

"Ugh-mkay, uh I'm at thuh Sound Night Club.... on Las Palmas, can you cohme get me? I'm fuckhing drunhk." You slurred into the phone mic.

After a few exchanges, you hung up. "Welp ladies, my taxi issa comin soon so I gotta wait outside." You stood, steadying yourself on the table. You draped your jacket over your shoulders, clinging your wallet and phone to your chest. You gave them each a kiss on the cheek and said your goodbyes. 

Your heels padded on the tacky red carpet as you slowly made your way to the entrance. Before leaving you wished the bouncer a good night. "It's not my birthday, but thank you." He replied. You just smiled, confused. 

You pushed the heavy doors open, only to be greeted with a freezing gust of air. Your exposed legs were now covered in chills. The street lights illuminated your flushed cheeks; how nice. You leaned your back against the club's brick wall and waited for your Taxi. 

A shiny black Camaro pulled up to the curb, flashing its lights and honking its horn. You stayed put, wondering whose ride it was. It then honked again.

You just observed silently. 

The driver's door opened and a tall dark man rose from the car. "Y/N?" He shouted. You jumped slightly. This wasn't your taxi driver: You wondered who the man was, and how he knew your name.

Fucking trouble, that's who.

The unknown man was shouting your name. You looked around to see if anyone else was outside that you could ask for help; not one.

Fuck it, you thought.

You took a run for it, your cheap heels clicking on the cement sidewalks, and you gripped all of your belongings as if your life depended on it, and at that moment it did. 

The streets of Los Angeles were dangerous at this time of night, and you were the desired victim; a drunk, helpless, pretty girl in slutty clothing.

So much for being a woman!

The cold air breezed through your product-filled hair as you ran down an alley, only to be cornered by the car again.

You stopped in your tracks, shocked. Your heart pounded in your ears and your mouth was now dryer than a desert. You couldn't find your voice to yell for help.

The man got out again and started running after you, leaving his door open. The car lights blinded you, you could only see his tall shadow approaching you, quickly.

You once again tried to make a run for it but your heel fell through a manhole cover. You rolled your ankle and fell to your knees, your full weight hitting the solid pavement. You groaned in pain. The man rushed to your sides, as you cried on your hands and knees.

This was the end.

"Y/N! What were you thinking? You could've gotten seriously hurt! You could've gotten hit by a fucking car!!" The familiar voice gritted with rage. You lifted your head trying to identify this strange individual's face, only to reveal the face of your friend, Adam. 

"Adam? Why the fuhhck are yohu trying to kidhnap me for?" You slurred, trying to push away from his grip. "Kidnap? What? -Y/N, you called me from the club asking me to pick you up." He raised an angry eyebrow. 

You just broke down in tears, feeling lost and confused.

"You're too drunk." He grumbled, shaking his head.

"nO, I called, Denis. My usual taxi." You squinted, pulling out your phone to show him. Adam plucked the phone from your grasp and examined the phone.

"Y/N, it says Driver. Driver, Adam." He sighed impatiently.

"Oh, well, i swearr thaht I actually talked to hi-WOah!" Adam had cut you off by picking you up bridal style from the ground.

"Let me down!" You attempted to squirm but your lack of energy or control didn't allow you to do so.

"No, Y/N. You hurt your ankle. Now stop whining and let me take care of you. It's late- It's 4 in the fucking morning and you're acting like a child." He knelt down to grab your jacket that was at his feet and proceeded to place you on the passenger side of his car.

He then resumed his place at the wheel and sped off to his apartment. His car hummed loudly down the silent streets.

During the drive, you were quiet, your scraped knees were pulled to your chest and you faced your window, observing the lights that flashed by as Adam sped through the neighbourhood. 

You began to feel your soberness again because all the adrenaline was gone and the pain was now settling in.

Adam pulled into the parking garage and stopped the car in his usual spot. He turned off his vehicle and picked you up once more, this time with less anger. You toyed with the collar of his shirt as he carried you to his door. He had so many birthmarks on his neck.

Arriving at 11B, he managed to unlock and kick his door open. He used his elbows to switch on the lights and laid you on the grey sofa. 

"Do you need anything? Some pants, another shirt? Socks?" He spoke on top of you, trying to keep you awake.

"This outfit is too tight, Adamhm, can I borrow some long socks and one of your T-shirts?" You breathed out, with your eyes closed. Your head felt heavy against the firm couch pillow, it's like you were sinking in quicksand.

"I'll be right back." He said. 

You peeked an eye open to observe his apartment decor. It was minimalistic, with tones of light greys, topes and whites. Indie artists covered his walls, and colourful woven rugs were sprawled across the floor. He had lots of books on his shelf in the corner, you propped yourself up and dragged your feet to the library dizzily.

Poetry.

 Adam had lots of notorious poets in his collection.

He returned shortly.

"Here you go. Are you sure you don't want some shorts or sweatpants? They have drawstrings, so you can tighten it as much as you want." He placed the clothing on the oak coffee table that you were now making your way to. 

"I'm sure... thank you, Adam." You smiled unzipping your painfully tight top, exposing your red push-up bra. Adam's eyes diverted to the floor, he didn't want to make you uncomfortable.

"If you need anything else, I'll be upstairs in my bedroom. It's the first door on your left." He turned to leave. 

"Wait, Adam!" You let the top fall to your feet.

"Yes?" He turned around, making only eye contact, trying to not observe your figure.

"You have poetry books in your library." You said, sliding your skirt off, leaving you in only your matching lace undergarments. 

Adam controlled his breathing. 

"I do, I do, uh, do you read lots of... poetry?" He asked leaning against his living room door frame.

"I actually used to write some and read them at open mic nights." You smiled, unclipping your bra swiftly, allowing your breasts to bounce out of your bra.

"Much better," You muttered.

"I-I uh, I didn't know that." He bit the inside of his cheek, face remaining unreadable. He crossed his muscular arms over his chest and fixed his posture. You could hear his foot tapping the floor, and you could sense uneasiness in him.

Oh?

Casually, you let the bra fall, like your top, and slid on his grey Star Wars t-shirt that he probably had received from a fan.

Adam was not one to watch let alone buy merchandise from his own projects. The Kylo graphic tee looked cute on you, it ended mid-thigh and wasn't too wide.

"I still write sometimes, but not as much as I'd like to, you know? What about you, do you write?" You sat on the low coffee table, knowing well, that Adam was struggling to keep his composure and slid on his long black socks that went up to your knees. 

"I do, but I don't think that it's good." He chuckled, trying to seem less awkward. You simply smiled at the statement and found your place on the couch. 

"um- you need some water and aspirin, I'll go get that for you." He said and walked out of the room, his heavy footsteps thumped on the creaky wooden floors. 

In one hand he had a big glass of iced water, and in the other, he had two tiny pills. "Thank you," you mumbled tiredly, washing down the medicine with water. "Need anything else?" He asked glancing at the time: 4:52 AM.

"No, I'll be fine, thank you, Adam. For everything. It's really appreciated. Also, I'm sorry for earlier, I thought you were trying to hurt me, it was dumb." You looked down at the glass that you held in your lap, in embarrassment. 

"You are...welcomed." He gave you a small close-mouthed smile before shutting off the lights and going upstairs to his own bed.

You tossed and turned on that shitty sofa. It was small compared to your bed at home and the throw blanket was too thin for your liking, you really wished you would've taken up that offer on the sweatpants. 

"Ugh, fuck it." You groaned, now fully sober and exhausted. 

You quietly got up and proceeded to make your way upstairs to the first bedroom on the left. You turned the doorknob slowly and pushed it even slower to avoid making any noise. You saw that his bedside light was on, and you could make out faint clicking noises. When you fully opened the door, you were happy to be greeted by Adam sitting shirtless in bed, typing on his computer. 

"Hi." You quietly spoke. 

He lifted his chin and met your eyes with his brown ones. "Hi." He gave you a toothy smile. 

"Can't sleep either?" You asked, padding towards his gigantic bed. "No, not really." He chuckled closing his laptop and placing it on his bedside table.

You sat on the foot of his bed, observing his thick chest and shoulders. He was a very attractive man, very large, he looked soft. You bit your lip at the thought.

"Come." He lifted the covers from the unoccupied side of the bed and tapped the mattress like when prompting a dog or cat to come sit next to you.

You obeyed and got under the covers next to him, already feeling his warmth.

You hummed in delight as he turned off the lamp. Adam laid on his side, facing you. You did the same, trying to focus your eyes on his face through the new darkness. 

He let out a tired sigh and without warning, he pulled your whole body forward. Your head was buried in his chest, his bicep supported your neck, and his other arm rubbed your back.

"Sleep, or you'll get sick tomorrow morning. "

You smiled and inhaled the scented body wash he used. You absent-mindedly pressed a kiss to his chest, making him hum lovingly.

A moment of thinking passed and he then tipped your head back, to place a long tender kiss on your lips. You returned the kiss, feeling his plump lips against yours in delight, sending butterflies in your stomach.

After, you returned to his chest and he placed another kiss on your forehead, drifting you slowly to sleep. 

oh adam, i'd die for you

[heartshapedbabydolls]

Charlie’s dirty little secret💋

[strangunddurm]

Please post something? …. Pleasseeee!! You’re the best writer on this whole app!!!

Dear anon <3 Your message truly means so much to me! I've been struggling with writing for the past year and a half. Inspiration has been scarce and I've been doubting my own ability to write. Also, I'm indecisive when it comes to deciding who to write for (so if you have any preferences please send me another ask) But!! I am working on a new fic that I'm hoping to finish as soon as possible.

Here is a sneak peak:

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 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.

[rynwritesstuff]

The Cabin - Flip Zimmerman x Reader

Flip Zimmerman x Reader

Warnings: NSFW (PIV sex, dirty talk), bickering, general creepy vibes, potential for supernatural weirdness

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: Flip takes you up to the Zimmerman family cabin on a cold, wintery night.

Flip Zimmerman is no stranger to the harsh winds that come with heading up into the Colorado mountains. The air itself feels icy, almost sharp against any and all bare skin. His scruff is frosty, and in this moment, he really fucking wishes he had brought more than his usual fleece-lined jean jacket, but he wasn’t expecting to spend much time outdoors. 

His trusty red truck, though, was beginning to feel strange and abnormal to drive, and sure enough, when Flip had pulled over to investigate, he found a popped tire. Embarrassingly, he’d gone into a curse-filled rant about how fucking stupid this trip is and how this isn’t how the goddamn weekend was supposed to be and, of course, how badly he hates the motherfucker who decided to leave something sharp in the road. It was all bullshit.

And you, because you loved him – and also because you were several hours away from home already – tried to calm him down, to no avail. He didn’t want to hear it, so you stopped and got back into the car like he wanted. 

The sun has begun to set, and as frustrated as you feel, you must admit that you love the view of the mountains against the pink and orange sky. The snow falling creates a dusty effect on the entire view, and you’ve got half a mind to pull out your camera and take a few pictures, but you’re sure Flip wouldn’t appreciate the sentiment. 

You shove your hands beneath your thighs, hoping that doing this will generate some heat for them. The car is getting colder now that it’s turned off. You hum softly, looking to your right at the wooded treeline. The trees are tall and white with snow. They’re thick, too. You wonder how anyone or anything could comfortably move through such a congested forest. 

“Got it!” comes Flip’s voice. You smile as he stands up. 

“Good job, babe!” you say, opening the truck door. You are immediately hit with a frozen gust of wind, and you inhale sharply. “Goddamn.”

“Get back in the–”

“I’m gonna help you put this away so you can warm up,” you tell him over the wind. “Go start the car.”

Flip nods, in no mood to say ‘no’ to the idea of getting into the warm car, and walks around to his side. He gets up into the driver seat and turns the key, making the engine hum to life. The heat immediately starts up. 

Movement. 

Flip glances over to the right. You’re back by the bed of the truck, he notes, and his brows furrow. The trees seem to rustle as something scurries back into the wilderness. Flip gets out of the truck. 

“Here,” he says, keeping his eye on the treeline as he opens your door for you. “I’ll get the rest.”

“You sure?” you ask. Flip nods, and he seems insistent, so you oblige. He quickly finishes loading everything back into the truck bed before getting back into the truck. He locks the doors, which you find odd but not terribly concerning, and he buckles his seatbelt as the hot air blows. 

“Look at me?” you say. Flip turns to you, one hand on the wheel as he prepares to continue up the mountain. You smile at his red face, then cup his cheeks with your warm hands. You give him a quick kiss. 

“This is fine,” you tell him. He nods. “This doesn’t ruin anything.” He nods again. “And I kinda like seein’ you work on the truck, it’s hot.”

Flip cracks a smile at this, then gives you another kiss. 

“I’ll show you ‘hot’ once we get up to the cabin,” he says. You chuckle. 

“I’m gonna hold you to that, Detective.”

Flip hums and presses on the gas. The truck surges forward up the snowy mountain road. 

The famous Zimmerman cabin is a place you’ve been hearing about since you and Flip began to date. He’s mentioned it countless times, telling you about all of his summers and winters spent there with his family. So much sledding, so much fishing, so much love was experienced there. You’d always sort of wondered if he was talking out of his ass about the whole thing; the two of you have been together for almost six months, now, you figured that any time was a good time, but not Flip. No, he’s too much of a perfectionist. He takes pride in doing things right, so he waited until you really, really needed a break from work to propose a weekend getaway up in the mountains at the Zimmerman family cabin, just the two of you. 

When his truck starts up the path, you immediately notice just how wooded it is – it’s almost the same as the forest you’d seen earlier, down by where Flip was changing the tire. 

“Did you and your cousins used to play out here?” you ask as gravel and snow crunch beneath the truck’s tires. Flip smiles. 

“All the time,” he says. “Hide n’ seek was our favorite.”

“This seems like a good place for hide n’ seek.”

“It was,” he nods. “It would be a group of six or seven of us out here at night–”

“At night? Here, in the woods?”

“Fuck yeah, it was terrifying!” Flip laughs. “We loved it. The worst was being found last.”

“How’s that?”

“You just know there’s a pack out there lookin’ for you. All you could hear was your own breathing and the little fuckin’ bugs, and you’d hear their footsteps getting closer, and closer, and sometimes they’d sneak up on you just to scare the shit outta you . . .” Flip chuckles. “I loved it.”

You shudder. 

“I think I’d be too freaked out.”

“Well, luckily we don’t have to play,” Flip says as he pulls up to the cabin. You look up, brows raised as you take in the sight. It’s bigger than you thought, with beautiful woodwork and a vintage feel. You smile. 

“Oh, wow,” you say, looking out the window as Flip parks the truck and turns it off. “It’s so pretty.”

“It’s even better inside. C’mon, help me so we don’t have to take two trips.”

The two of you get out of the truck. You try to ignore the strange feeling you have in your gut. You can’t quite place the feeling, but you know you’d like to get inside. After all, the sun has almost completely set, and visibility is low due to the thick trees. 

You take your bags and Flip takes his. Snow cracks underfoot as you trudge up to the front door. Flip unlocks it, and you step inside. You smile brightly as Flip comes in behind you. You listen to him re-lock the door as you look over the cabin’s interior. 

The sitting area and kitchen flow together, clearly meaning to make the entire first floor feel social and open. The hardwood floors are beautiful and solid. A large rug sits in the center of couches and chairs facing one another. An old TV sits on a television stand at the front of the room. A hallway is visible, leading to, presumably, a bathroom. Closer to the kitchen is another hallway, which leads to a dining room. 

You turn to the left, running your hand along the railing of the stairs as Flip walks around turning on lights. You start upstairs. The steps creak as you go. The second floor of the cabin is loft-style: The entire first floor is visible if you simply peer over the rail wrapping along the large landing. You count three bedrooms and a second bathroom upstairs before Flip comes up behind you with his own bags. 

“Master bedroom’s down here,” he says, stepping in front of you and turning on more lights. You follow him down the hall and into the bedroom. It’s large and spacious, with a nice, big window overlooking the side yard of the cabin. 

“There’s a firepit out back, but it’s too cold to use, I think,” Flip says. “Unless you really fuckin’ want a fire.”

You smile, setting your bags down and walking towards him. 

“What I really want is you, Detective Zimmerman,” you say, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. Flip drops his bags and puts his hands on your hips. You smile up at him with a twinkle in your eye that he could recognize anywhere. 

“You’re all worked up already?” Flip asks, smiling softly. You sway teasingly, your hips moving from side to side as flip continues to hold them.  “I can’t help it. You just look so fucking good . . .”

Flip’s hands slide down lower to grip your ass, and your smile widens. He kisses you, then, and your mouth works against his desperately. Your hands slide up along his cheeks as he tugs you closer. The heat of his body draws you in and makes you hunger for him. His erection is present and obvious, and you let one of your hands slide down to hold him. 

“You’re worked up, too,” you breathe as he runs his teeth along your jaw and pushes your jacket off your shoulders. Your arms fall back so that the jacket can hit the ground, then you touch him again. Flip’s breath catches. 

“‘Cause you’re kissin’ me like that,” Flip says. His large hands give your ass a squeeze, and you press yourself against him solidly. You push off his jacket and it falls down beside his bags. 

Flip’s hands travel up your body, and he pulls at your shirt. You know exactly what he wants, and you have half a mind to tease him, but you want it, too. You let him pull your shirt up over your head, and he throws it into the pile of bags and clothes already on the floor. 

“Mmm, very forward today, Detective . . .”

You step back towards the bed, then sit down on it. You take a moment to remove your boots while Flip does the same, and once his boots are off, he’s on you, his hands pressing against your breasts firmly. He fits his body between your legs, leaning back only to remove your pants and underwear for you. You grind up against his belt buckle, shuddering at the coldness of it while Flip squeezes your thigh and kisses along your jaw. 

“Take your fuckin’ pants off,” you breathe, a hand in his hair as he kisses your skin. He chuckles quietly, but leans back anyway. His hands go to his belt, and he undoes it. Watching Flip undress always makes you feel lucky, and you suspect it always will. Outside, the wind blows and howls and whistles. You feel cozy and warm inside, especially now that Flip is naked from the waist down. You run your hands along his skin as he gets on top of you again. 

Your legs spread for him, and this serves as an invitation for him to make himself comfortable. He brings a hand to his erection, gives it a few strokes, then presses his tip against your entrance. You hum, smiling up at him. 

“C’mon, don’t tease me,” you say, tugging on his hair. 

“Why not? It’s so much fun.”

You hit his chest playfully. 

“You’re a sadist,” you tell him, lifting your hips. “Get on with it, Detective. I haven’t got all–”

He thrusts in, cutting you off. You gasp as he begins to rock his hips steadily. Your core clenches around him, and Flip grunts. Your breasts bounce, the bed creaks. You close your eyes and think of all the poor fuckin’ people who’ll never get to have this. This . . . Damn, this is as close to bliss as you’ll ever be. Your head falls back, your eyes roll. You feel Flip’s hands on your wrists, pinning you down as he fucks you into the squeaky mattress. 

“O-Oh shit,” you breathe. Flip grunts and sighs above you, his hair falling into his face. He looks so handsome like this. “I love you.”

Flip kisses you, then nips at your bottom lip. 

“I love you, too, babe,” Flip says. “Mm. S-So fuckin’ wet . . .”

You laugh softly, shakily. 

“How romantic,” you sigh. “Ohhh, fuck, Flip . . .”

His thrusts are getting fast and sloppy and hard, and you clench your hands into fists where he holds you down. You lift your hips again, and when his cock hits you at a new angle, a better angle, you groan. It only encourages him. He loves knowing that he’s making his girl feel good. He loves knowing when you're enjoying yourself. 

You lean up and kiss him again. Tree branches brush against the cabin angrily, hitting the windows and the wooden exterior, but you pay it no mind. A moan escapes you. 

“Fuck,” you breathe. “Fuck–”

Pop!

Darkness. 

You startle. Flip’s hips halt suddenly, and the only sound that is audible is the sound of breathing. You can’t even see Flip, who is mere inches in front of you. You cling to him in the dark, holding his hands. 

“Flip?”

“I know.”

“Was it the wind?”

“Maybe, maybe not. I’ll have to check the fuse box.”

“Where’s that?” 

“Out back.”

You weren’t scared when you arrived, not really anyway, but it’s totally dark outside now, and the idea of accompanying Flip out into the yard sends a chill over your nude body. Still, you know you should offer. You feel him pull out with a grunt, and the weight on the bed shifts as he gets off. You reach into the dark, but it's no use. You can’t see a damn thing. You let out a shaky breath as you listen to Flip rummaging through something – the bedside drawer, perhaps? – and before you know it, a dim light fills the bedroom. He’s found a flashlight.

“Toss me my stuff,” you tell him, pointing to your clothes on the ground. He does so, and you begin to get dressed as he sets the flashlight down and begins to do the same. 

“You can stay here while I go outside,” Flip says. “I should be right back and we can finish this.”

“You don’t want me to come with?” you ask. The wind is persistent and harsh outside, and for a moment, you foolishly wonder if the windows are going to shatter from the force of it. Flip shakes his head. 

“No, no. It’s bad out there.”

“Is there another flashlight?” you ask. Flip nods, then points to the other bedside table. 

“Should be one in there.”

You crawl across the bed to open the drawer, and sure enough, there’s an old flashlight inside. You turn it on. It’s a bit brighter than Flip’s. You pull on your shirt, then your underwear, then wrap the blanket around yourself. When you look up again, Flip is fully dressed.

“Hurry back,” you say. Flip nods, then gives you a quick kiss as he pulls on his jacket.

“I will.”

He leaves. You listen to his footsteps recede until you can no longer hear them, and then you wait. The cabin is completely silent, almost eerily so. You look over at the window. Outside, you can see the snow and the faint shadow of the trees shaking from the wind. You pull the blanket tighter. 

You hear it, then. A loud thud, a thud so loud that you swear you feel the walls shake. And then–

A yell. 

You startle. 

“Flip?!” you call into the darkness, holding your flashlight. No response comes, and you stand up quickly. 

“Flip?” you call again, louder this time. Once again, no response. Your heart sinks, and a dreadful feeling washes over you. 

What happened to him?

Tagging some besties: @mrs-gucci @safarigirlsp @babbushka

Dividers by saradika-graphics

rynwritesstuff, 2025

[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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[ladyinwriting18]

Title: Tail (Flip Zimmerman x Reader) Summary: Your Alpha has been too busy at work. But now that he has some time off, you're ready to surprise him with a pair of ears and a tail.

Words: 2,772

Warnings: A/B/O, AlphaxOmega, anal play, butt plug, knotting, PIV, spanking, wolf ears & a tail.

You put Flip’s dinner in the refrigerator with a sigh. You’re certain he won’t be home anytime soon. For the past few weeks, he’s been knee-deep in a case. Which meant almost all of his time was spent down at the station.

You don’t hold it against him. You’re proud to have such a brave and passionate mate.

However, that doesn’t stop you from missing him…desperately so. Still, you do your part as his Omega. You leave him dinner, pack his lunches, and write love notes back and forth to one another.

It isn’t the same, but it’s something.

You’re about to settle on the couch with a book when the phone rings. Wanting to get on with your night, you quickly answer.

“Zimmerman residence.”

“Hello there, little omega.”

You instantly perk up, “Flip! I wasn’t expecting you to call.”

He hums. “Hopefully it’s a nice surprise.”

“A very nice surprise. I’ve missed the sound of your voice. The nights are so lonely without you.” You try to stifle your whimper, not wanting to turn the conversation sad.

“I know, sweetheart, but I have a second surprise for you.”

“What is it?”

“I’ve just been given the next four days off.”

You squeal in delight, earning you a laugh from the other end of the call.

“We just wrapped up the case, so they’ve given me some time off. I’ll be home in about an hour.”

You feel so happy you could cry. “Oh Alpha! That’s wonderful. Come home to me, Flip. Please just come home.”

“Consider me already out the door. I’ll see you soon.”

The moment he hangs up, you spring into action. After being apart for so long, you want tonight to be memorable.

And you have just the thing.

You rush up the steps to your bedroom and reach under your bed to grab a box that you’ve been hiding. The box read “Grey Wolf Tail Anal Plug & Ear Set”. You blush just holding it.

A few months ago, you and Flip had been out drinking at a bar. Drunkenly, he had admitted to wondering what his Omega would look like in a pair of ears and a tail. The thought had turned you on so much that the next day you went to your local sex shop.

Before you dared to admit what you’d bought, Flip picked up a new case.

But now?

Now would be the perfect time to surprise him.

Wanting everything to be perfect, you light candles and place them around your bedroom. You also add extra pillows and blankets to the bed, making sure to rub your scent into them first.

Satisfied with the overall look and smell of the room, you rush to shower and get ready for your Alpha’s return. Time is limited, so you don’t bother picking out lingerie, you simply lay in the nest you’ve made and apply lube to the plug and your tight, puckered hole.

The plug is bigger than anything you’ve taken before, but you want to be the perfect little wolf for your mate. It takes some time, but thinking of Flip's reaction and using your fingers to open yourself up makes it easier to slip the plug in.

You whine at the stretch of it…at how full your ass feels. Your toes curl and you squeeze your thighs together. Your cunt is already so soaked. You feel as if you could already cum but you won’t.

Not without Alpha.

Slowly, you stand and push the wolf ears headband into your hair. You catch sight of yourself in the mirror and you shiver. Completely naked in only the ears and the tail that hangs from the plug.

You look like a real wolf.

You make your way to the front door, tail swinging with every step. You’re so turned on that you’re sure your scent fills your home. You sink to your knees by the front door and wait for Flip to arrive home.

By the grace of God, every traffic light is green between the station and home. After the long hours, investigations, paperwork, and late nights, all Flip wants is to sink into his Omega’s embrace. Your caring nature, your soft hands, your submissiveness that’s only reserved for him.

It’s all he wants…all he needs.

His cock swells in his tight jeans at the thought.

He can’t get this truck parked in the driveway fast enough. Practically running up the front steps and jamming his key into the lock.

That’s when he smells you. You must be soaked.

Maybe even dripping.

Flip groans, the hunger for you growing.

The door flings open and his jaw drops at the sight before him. There you are, kneeling on the floor naked with a pair of ears on.

“Holy fucking shit.”

He takes a step closer to you, letting the door shut behind him.

His nostrils flare. You smell divine.

“Omega–is that a tail?” There’s an edge to his voice that almost sounds dangerous. But you know your Alpha well, and he’s simply trying to stay in control from tearing into you.

You nod and perch up on your knees more. A silent invitation for him to get a better look at you.

He walks around you, almost like a hunter would stalk his prey. Standing behind you, he can see how the tail sits perfectly inside your puckered hole.

A low growl emits from his throat. The hair on the back of your neck stands on end at the sound. You whimper and Flip crouches down, pressing his nose to your mating gland.

“Such a little anal slut.”

Your whimpers grow louder, but it doesn’t deter him from continuing to whisper to you.

“Did you buy the ears and tail for me?”

“Yes, Alpha.”

The scent of his hunger invades what little space there is between you. It’s dizzying.

“Then we better put them to good use.” The tip of his nose runs along your shoulder, allowing himself a moment to enjoy your scent before continuing, “Be a good Little Wolf and crawl to our bedroom. Let's see if that tail can wag for me.”

You can feel the slick between your thighs. You can’t remember the last time you were this turned on. It makes you all the more antsy. But still, you position yourself on your hands and knees.

Slowly, you crawl from the front door to the bedroom, swinging your hips slightly so the tail does in fact wag.

You hear Flip chuckling as he follows behind you and you beam with pride.

If your Alpha is happy, then so are you.

What you don’t know is that Flip has also shoved one of his large hands into the pocket of his jeans, rubbing his cock through the thick material to try and give himself some relief. Dressing you in a tail and ears has been a fantasy of his for quite some time.

And now that it’s reality…..

Well, he can hardly contain himself.

You lead him into the bedroom, only stopping once you’ve reached the foot of the bed–kneeling there so Flip can take in the changes you’ve made to the bedroom.

He comes up behind you again but pulls his eyes away from you to look at the candles and extra pillows you’ve added. “What’s this? Another surprise?”

“I wanted to make the whole room a nest for us.” You look up at him from your spot on the floor. “Does Alpha like it?”

“It’s perfect, my love.” With the tip of his boot, he nudges the plug, causing you to loudly gasp. “You spoil me.”

You can barely make out his words because your body shakes at the feeling of him toying with the plug. Your mouth falls open and your eyes glaze over. You need him—desperately.

Before you know it, you’re grinding back against the pressure of his boot. You’re practically humping the floor. The sound of Flip chuckling snaps you back to your senses.

“My goodness, you really have become an anal slut. Maybe my mate needs to be punished? I think a good spanking outta do it.”

You bite your bottom lip, already guessing what he has in mind. One of Flip’s favorite toys is a wooden paddle with the letters F and Z carved into it. Ensuring that his initials are left behind with every spanking.

He walks over to the bed and moves a pillow so you can comfortably rest your upper body while keeping your ass propped up. You smile at his thoughtfulness and climb up onto the bed before situating yourself across the pillow.

You hear him hum in approval as he returns to your side, paddle in hand. He free hand grips your asscheek while kissing the base of your spine.

His tongue licks up the contour of your back, causing you to purr.

You feel nothing but tingles and shivers as you lay there with your ass presented to your Alpha like a gift.

“Does my Omega think she can take ten paddle strikes?”

You nod without hesitation. “Will I get a reward after?”

Flip runs the paddle over the swell of your ass and whispers, “You’ll get my cock.”

With that, he brings the paddle down.

“MH! O-One. Thank you, Alpha.”

He praises you for using good manners and lets the paddle land across your ass a second time.

With every smack you thank him, and with each ‘thank you’ arousal rushes between his legs. He continues praising you through growls and a husky tone.

“Such a good fucking girl, taking her spanking so well.

SMACK!

“That’s it. Keep counting.”

SMACK!

“Your ass is going to look so damn good covered in my initials.”

SMACK!

“Deep breaths, mmmh, atta girl.”

SMACK!

“That was seven, Omega. Can you keep going?”

You cry out with abandon, “Yes, Alpha! I can take it all for you!”

SMACK!

Your whole frame shakes as your hands grip the bed sheets. You can feel how damp your cunt and inner thighs are. Which is only made worse by your inability to stop clenching around the buttplug.

You prepare yourself for the next blow but it doesn’t come.

Instead, your ears pick up the jiggling sound of Flip’s belt coming undone. You look over your shoulder to find him pulling his cock free from his jeans. It throbs so hard that it looks angry.

Not bothering to take off his clothes, he lines himself up with your entrance.

“But Alpha said ten spanks.” You don’t know why you’re questioning him, you’d gladly take his cock at a moment's notice.

He huffs, strands of his hair falling into his face as the head of his cock slowly pushes inside. He doesn’t bother tearing his gaze away from your slit while he speaks.

“I can’t wait. It’s been too long. Need to be inside you now .”

You can’t argue. You’ve missed being intimate with him like the flowers miss the sun in winter.

You manage to nod in agreement, but any words you might have wanted to say morph into moans as he sinks into you all the way down to the base. His hip bones are pressed to your backside and you sigh his name.

Having him inside of you after being apart for so long makes you feel whole.

But Flip doesn’t stay still for long. His hands grip your waist, tugging you backward to meet his thrusts. He sets a rough pace that has his cock hitting you deep.

Your toes curl from the instant pleasure.

The plug and his cock simultaneously stretching you is glorious.

“Fucking hell,” Flip grunts through his teeth. “That plug has you squeezing me so tight.”

You whine in response. “I-I feel so full Alpha. Your cock and the plug a-are so big! It feels good!”

His cock drags along your walls over and over. Your nipples harden at the sensation.

You can feel the rough fabric of his jeans rubbing against the sore flesh of your ass. Reminding you that he hadn’t bothered to take off a single piece of clothing. It makes everything all the more erotic, that he’s fully clothed while you’re vulnerable, naked, and being speared onto his cock.

The noises leaving Flip’s mouth become more feral.

Growls and grunts that make him sound animalistic.

“Your scent is so strong you might as well be in fucking heat!”

He picks up his pace, slamming into you and causing sloppy wet smacking sounds to fill the room.

A tightness blooms within your lower belly. The head of Flip’s cock hits you deep and brushes your g-spot. It has both your holes clenching.

This doesn’t go unnoticed by your mate, whose fingers move to the base of the plug—pressing against it to push it in just a tiny bit deeper.

“This naughty hole is making your tail twitch, Little Wolf.”

Realizing he’s staring at your asshole almost has you drooling dumbly all over yourself.

But Flip doesn’t let up, continuing to play with you by yanking on the tail. Not enough to remove it, but enough to cause friction and added pleasure coursing through you. He does this over and over–in and out until the slick from your cunt drips down to his balls.

You’re trembling uncontrollably now. The tightness spreads throughout all of your limbs. As much as you don’t want this to end, your orgasm is building.

“A-Alpha….I’m–!”

“I know,” he reassures, not once slowing down his thrusts. “I can smell it. Can feel your tight cunt.” He lets out a trembling breath. “My girl is going to cum for me.”

You nod, brows knitted together in bliss. “So close.”

“Yeah you are,” he smugly purrs. “You’re going to cum while I fuck this cunt and own this greedy asshole.” His nails dig into the soft flesh of your waist to keep his cock hitting you exactly where you need. “Go ahead, fall apart. Howl your mate’s name.”

You don’t need to be told twice. You’re already so close to the edge. You only hope Flip will reach his peak with you.

However, all thoughts leave you when you feel a tug of the wolf tail. The pressure of being stuffed abruptly leaves and triggers your orgasm.

You howl his name, just like he had told you to as wave after wave crashes down on you. You shudder, cum gushing from your cunt in steady pulses that Flip can surely feel.

The orgasm hits you hard, so hard that your vision blurs and you collapse onto the bed. The only thing continuing to hold your hips up is Flip’s grip.

“Fuckkkk, Omega. You came so hard, but now it’s Alpha’s turn.”

You whine for it, wanting his seed and his knot even though you’re currently no better than a ragdoll. Your body is too boneless to do anything other than lay there and take it.

Flip throws his head back and howls your name while his knot inflates at the base of his cock and takes root inside of you. He fills you with his warm thick seed.

Now you are stuffed full in a different sense, but nothing compares to this—your Alpha’s knot snuggly locked inside.

You feel euphoric.

Flip must feel it too because he struggles to stop himself from collapsing onto the bed. He wouldn’t risk hurting you with uncomfortable tugs from his knot.

Instead, he keeps his movements deliberate, slowly turning you on your side while laying down beside you. He pulls you flush against his chest.

It’s only now that he starts wishing he had stripped before knotting you, if only for the chance to fully feel your body heat. But he’ll survive waiting until his knot deflates.

For now, all he cares about is ensuring your comfort. He laps at your mating glad, tonguing it until you melt into him.

“Mmmmh, that’s my girl. How are you feeling?”

You take a moment to respond, too busy coming down from the blissful high. You feel like a bowl of mush, but you find the strength to open your eyes and look over your shoulder.

“I feel like I’m floating.”

Your answer earns you a laugh from Flip. One that rumbles his entire frame.

“My little flying wolf.”

You giggle in response and his hand finds yours, linking your fingers together.

“I can’t wait to spend the next four days with you.”

Flip hums and leaves a kiss on your shoulder blade.

“I think tomorrow we’ll add a collar and leash to that tail of yours.”

You bite your bottom lip in excitement.

“I would like that very much, Alpha.”

[kylosjuul]

Kylo Ren NSFW Alphabet (reupload)

a/n: i posted this last year and here it is again! if ur expecting kylo to be a dom don’t read this. Also, this is AFAB!reader.

——

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Kylo has never had anybody to cherish like this, to hold. So you best believe after sex, he’s planting soft kisses across your face and lips trying to show how lucky he feels to have you; that you gave this gift of intimacy to him. It’s all soft touches and cuddles (fight me on this). He looks at you with a sense of longing, to have this feeling forever. He’ll hold your hand over his heart while you fall asleep on his chest, for it only beats for you.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Everything about your body has Kylo red in the face, but he finds his eyes trailing to your thighs and your ass often. Your uniform clings to them tightly, and he feels guilty about how quick his blood pools to his thighs, constantly readjusting his leather pants when you bend down or “accidentally” brush against him.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Okay, listen. Kylo has never had any sexual experience so you BEST believe he cums a lot. And hard. Borderline hyperspermia. He’s just so sensitive and you just feel too good wrapped around him. Expect rope after rope of thick cum coating your walls, spilling out of you and down your thighs :D

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

You make him hard. A lot. He feels so perverted, especially in the beginnings of your relationship. The soft floral notes of your perfume made his pants constrict, the sweet smell making him dizzy. Every kiss, every brush of your fingers=boner. He was embarrassed. The worst part is the wet dreams. Oh. The dreams. Kylo’s mind would drift to images of you kissing him, sitting on top of him, the warmth between your legs remedying the pressure building in his hips; but he would wake up every time, hard as a rock, spilling into his sleep pants panting your name. Yeah.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Absolute virg. Never even kissed a girl before. The first time you climbed on top of him and started trailing kisses down his neck, he was 100% whipped, almost finishing in his uniform as you rocked against his length. He knew he couldn’t give this up, couldn’t give YOU up.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

A bit simple, but this man lovesss missionary. He gets off when your face twists up in pleasure, knowing he’s the one providing it to you. Plus, he can hear each moan, each sharp intake of breath; Between your face drenched in lust, your sweet sounds, and your tits bouncing with each thrust, this position makes him cum the hardest. (Besides you on top. He’ll dig his fingers into your hips watching himself disappear inside you over and over. yum).

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

I’d say Kylo is serious during the deed. He just loves you so much and wants to worship you with every bit of intimacy he has in him. Large calloused palms smoothing back your hair, plush lips sucking on your collarbone, all of it.

“You’re so beautiful. My sweet girl…”

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He isn’t the hairiest man in the galaxy, but he does have a bit of hair down south. Nothing too extreme though. Kylo is very hygienic and well groomed, nothing to worry about here!

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

THE MOST INTIMATE. You can see in his eyes how he feels he doesn’t deserve you, doesn’t deserve your soft body beneath him. He treats you as if you’ll break, as if you’re the most precious being in the universe. Constantly asking if you’re okay, or, “Does this feel good?” He loves to serve you. To pleasure you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

As aforementioned, Kylo can’t help how hard he is around you 24/7. If he knows he’s going to see you, he’ll tuck himself away into his refresher and think of your figure, your eyes looking up at him, (that REALLY makes him cum fast) and stroke his cock with a punishing pace, imagining you slamming down on his hips. He feels a tinge of shame as he grits his teeth and releases his load onto the refresher door.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Praise. He feels his thighs go weak when you drag your fingers through his hair and call him a “good boy.” He’ll look up at you through heavy lids, a silent plea for more soft touches and appraisals. Also, eye contact. If you ever want anything from him, just look up at his through your eyelashes and he’ll blush like a madman, giving you whatever it is you crave.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He’s a very private person and extremely jealous, so he prefers to fuck you in your shared quarters. Nowhere else. Okay, maybe in his TIE, but that’s only when you beg him so sweetly; and who is he not to give his girl whatever she wants?

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Yes. Just yes. A kiss that lingers a second too long, his name on your lips (in any context), your soft hand following the curve of his jaw. He’s a goner. If you want to torture the man, wear a low cut top around him, he’ll be desperately grabbing at your hips in no time.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything involving someone else. He’s a jealous, jealous man. All these fics about him sharing you with the KOR….girl. A big no no is anything related to degradation. Attention all Kylo writers! He would never even DREAM of calling you names or hurting you in any way. You’re his precious girl and he just loves you so so much:(

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Virgin, remember? The first time you sucked his cock, he’s was a panting mess, brows furrowed, low moans punched from his chest, finishing in your mouth in under a minute. After a few times together, you guided him on how to eat pussy, and he definitely prefers watching your hips rock up into his face, coming undone from his warm tongue. (Kylo will never admit this, but while he was eating you out he rocked against the mattress like a rabid dog, cumming all over his stomach, a pool of his spend spreading over the sheets. Yeah, he prefers giving).

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It depends on how much time you’ve spent apart. If he hasn’t seen you for a week, (missions, supreme leader shit) he’ll fuck into you with a strong and punishing pace, still careful not to hurt you, though. If it’s a normal day, he’ll slowly rock into you, dragging his cock along your walls in a sensual way, but you usually beg him to speed up, pushing you further and further up the mattress.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Kylo is a simp. He will take whatever you so kindly gift him with. You get to fuck your man whenever you so please. He gives it to you no matter the time. Day or night. He’s just so excited there’s a GIRL who wants him, his cock, this badly.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Nah. Not really. He’d rather savor the sex, instead of constantly looking over his shoulder. But if you drag him into a storage closet aboard and start massaging him through his leather, who is he to say no?

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Hate to burst any bubbles here, but he’s completely inexperienced, so don’t expect him to last very long, at least not at first. He physically has to tense his muscles, eyes squeezed shut in concentration, trying so hard NOT to blow his load the second your tight wet heat engulfs his cock. His skin is flaming hot, but he’s shivering above you, groans emanating from his slacked jaw, trying to fight the way his balls draw up, the way his stomach muscles tighten already.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Are sex toys canon in Star Wars? Someone please lmk. But my answer is going to be no for now!

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Kylo doesn’t have to tease you, like, at all. You just want him so bad all the time and he still doesn’t understand why. However. You’re quite the tease, and this poor virgin can’t take it. Seriously, if you want to see the mighty Kylo Ren crumble, all you need to do is press a chaste kiss to his lips, put a hand on his thigh, look at him, or just breathe basically, and he’ll be hard and wanting in seconds. I love our space boyfriend.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Ben Swolo can make some NOISE lemme tell ya. It’s all low groans and grunts, so caught up in the heat of your body and how fucking tight you are around him. No matter how hard he tries to contain the noises that slip from his throat, he can’t help it. He’ll confidently moan and moan in your ear, minted breath hitting your cheek, letting you know his pleasure is solely from you, and you alone.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Kylo is what we call a service top. He would do anything to put your pleasure first, his own pleasure depends on that. He had never cum harder than that first time you clamped around his cock, finally feeling your orgasm around him. Lights flickered and whirred; it was…intense.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Hung like a moose omg who said that? Anyways. My guess is 7-8 inches. Good luck girl.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Siri play ‘Everyday’ by Ariana Grande please. Seriously. He feels fucking insane with how bad he wants to be buried in you at all times. Whether he’s tired, beaten or bruised, you could catch a dick anytime.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Kylo will eventually fall asleep cuddled up next to you, but not until he allots himself a few minutes to admire your beauty, running his thick fingers through your hair, kissing your temple until he sees you eyes flutter shut. Awe. Whatta softie.

[cas-backwards-tie]

ADCU Masterlist

A/N: Just making a separate masterlist for this because I have a fair number of these and also there's a bunch of different characters!

Kylo Ren

Call Me Kylo | Officer!Reader ↠ You're tasked with getting the Commander's signature to finish your assignment. Unfortunately, you can't find the Commander anywhere.

Correspondence ↠ The Supreme Leader has a lot on his plate, leading him to neglect certain things... like himself, for example.

Nothing But A Monster | Vampire! AU ↠ Forced to accept help from a mysterious stranger, you find yourself in a predicament of sorts.

It’s The Small Things ↠ Kylo finds your optimism odd in place of the First Order.

The Meaning Of Care | Officer!Reader ↠ Kylo Ren takes care of you when you're sick? That's something you never would've seen coming.

Clyde Logan

Pinball & Motels ↠ Roadtrips, A present for Clyde, and the one-bed trope? What more could you ask for?

A Day Off ↠ Clyde finally takes a well-deserved day off.

Flip Zimmerman

Frenzied Rendezvous* ↠ Flip finally has his way with you after enduring your teasing all night long.

Pale

Early Mornings ↠ Pale wakes up to find you making breakfast. It's like you plan on staying or something. Wait... do you plan on staying?

Solo Triplets

A Quiet Night ↠ The boys want to take you out on a proper date.

Ben Solo

Fairytale Mess* ↠ Sleeping with Ben Solo doesn't seem like such a bad idea when you're both under the influence.

Paul Sevier

Extraordinary ↠ Paul attempts to go out and have a social nigh. After everything that's happened... things haven't changed him that much, have they?

Daniel Jones

Late Night Confessions ↠ Dan wakes you up with a drunken phone call.

Multi-Character

headcanons

Breakup Headcanons

[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?"

[jynzandtonic]

YOURE BACK!! omg for the first time in months i have stuff to catch up on 🥹 do you have any active adam driver accounts to follow?? everyone i follow is either inactive or left and i need more content!! <3

I'M BACK!! I've missed writing and simping and connecting with other Adam peeps on here.

ALRIGHT LET'S DO A ROLL CALL! If you're still on here and posting Adam content drop your blog in the comments and we can get a list going!