#flip zimmerman x female reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

safarigirlsp · 3 months ago

Text

Never Whistle in the Woods

Flip Zimmerman x OC

Word Count: 7.5k

Warnings: NSFW. Smut. Horror. Violence. Monster Action. Cryptids. Creepy things that happen in the woods. Backcountry flavor. Just a nice getaway with Flip. Those never go according to plan. I’m willing to continue this and write more if people like it!

Note: Going forward, I'm going to write characters from now on instead of Readers just because it's really annoying trying to switch back and forth for the non-fic writing I do. However, the female characters will be totally physically vague aside from having a name, so they can still easily be read as an insert by anyone who chooses to insert themselves.

Based on two requests I combined then butchered from rynwritestuff and @lumberjack00fantasies

AO3 Link

One of Flip’s favorite things was spending a secluded weekend out at his cabin, nestled in the forested mountains, away from the noise and mayhem of town. And away from people. Nothing cured a man’s love of humanity better than working with them. He enjoyed having a beer and a burger with his friends after work and he enjoyed taking his girl out to dinner. But he liked it a helluva lot more to take her with him into the mountains and not see or hear from another person for a couple days. Actually, it had become his favorite thing.

Knowing this, his girl, Kate, had booked him a nice getaway right up his alley. A solid week squirreled away in a truly remote cabin about as far away from humanity as he could get. It had taken a little online spelunking for her to land on the small town of Kitwanga, British Columbia, but its selling points of having a population of less than five-hundred, being a prime location for hunting and fishing, and being a true gateway to the wilderness with scarcely an outpost North between the little town and the Yukon, had sealed the deal. Besides, for the shrewd outdoorsman who wanted a less touristy experience with a friendlier populace for about a third of the money, British Columbia was a superior option to Alaska with all the same appeal.

Over-the-counter hunting licenses were available for all sorts of game that required a lottery draw or exorbitant fee in the States. Flip laughed when he read in the game regulations that it was strictly prohibited to shoot Bigfoot and that, should a sportsman encounter him, he was to be considered a protected species.

“How many big, hairy Canadians do you reckon had to get shot in the ass before they added that regulation?” He grinned at Kate, sitting with her legs curled under her on the seat of his rented truck as they bounced down the terrible excuse for a dirt road, sloshing in the mud and hitting potholes by the hundreds. Flip had twice hit his head on the bolt of the rifle secured in the headache rack above his head on the ceiling of the truck’s cab. He would have left the rifle inside their cabin, but they had been stringently warned not to take a step outside without it. Bears were a real threat and the animals here had little experience with humans, which meant little fear of them.

“Sounds like you better watch your own ass if you’re out wandering around in low light,” she teased back. “You’re big and lumbering enough to be mistaken for Bigfoot.”

“Yeah, but I’m a lot better lookin,’” he winked at her as he pulled into the only gas station in the tiny town. He filled up every day on their return in case the owner decided to take a day off. Electric pumps were a novelty that hadn’t reached this far north, it seemed. He was in a teasing mood, returning from a day of hiking and, as he put it, takin’ pictures of every goddamn thing in Canada.

“Depends on who you ask,” Kate laughed warmly. “I’ve waged a losing battle for quite a while trying to convince my friends you’re handsome. They tell me I’m blind or brainwashed.”

Five businesses in the tiny town were booming, frequented by most if not all of its citizens on a regular basis: the grocery store, post office, church, bar, and the gas station. Actually, Kitwanga boasted two bars. Flip figured this was a good insight as to the favorite pastime of the locals, especially since it doubled the churchgoers. There were no restaurants, but the bars had all the haute cuisine a man could want, so long as what he wanted was a cheeseburger or a sandwich or some chicken fried steak. However, one bar generously offered to cook anything a person brought in, provided the thing was somewhere between alive and kicking and starting to turn, and provided that gastronome paid in cash. Flip had already taken the owner and bartender up on this offer and handed over several trout he had caught that day to the owner’s wife and cook to fry for dinner. He had to admit it was some of the best fried fish he had ever had, and it paired wonderfully with the potent Moose Knuckle stout beer on tap.

The sign at the gas station read, Headed north? Need gas? It’s now or never. Two lonely gas pumps sat on a rectangle of cement on the otherwise muddy ground – the kind of pumps a person usually only saw on postcards from the fifties, with the rounded tops and numbers for cost and gallons that ticked by on a dial like an old one-armed-bandit style slot machine. A hand-scrawled sign in the window listed the hours vaguely as open from dawn ‘til dusk. An uninformed observer could easily mistake the business for being abandoned, or even condemned, a relic lingering in a ghost town. But for the metropolis of Kitwanga, it was a thriving business. There was even another vehicle at the pumps, a ’79 Ford truck with a lift and a winch on its bumper and a fat man in overalls leaning against the bed, pumping gas.

Flip stepped out of his truck and lifted the nozzle of the gas pump with a rusty squeal. He admired the view of his girl as she trotted into the gas station to forage for supplies. A brisk wind rustled his hair, tinged with chilled moisture. Above, low clouds in a grayscale palette churned in the sky. The snowy tops of the mountains were hidden inside the clouds and rain slashed across their facades in a grey haze. The rain hadn’t yet reached the foothills where the town and Flip’s rented cabin were nestled, but fog was creeping in from the base of the mountains and off a nearby river. Between the thunderclouds and the fog, it was as if the world was slowly closing in, like the vignette on a Bogart movie narrowing in on the dramatic eyes of a starlet.

Tilting his face up into the chilly air, Flip smiled. He loved rain and thunderstorms, and found peace in their chaos. Mainly, he loved holding his girl while a storm raged outside, or having a drink with her while they sat on the porch and felt the electricity in the air, and making love to her and feeling her shudder thunderously beneath him. His smile widened as he anticipated the evening ahead.

“Storm’s comin,’” the man at the pump said to Flip as he spat a string of brown tobacco into the mud. “You here for huntin’ or fishin?’”

“I’m mostly just here to take a break from everyday bullshit,” Flip replied in a friendly tone. “But I have tags for fishing and tags for bear and moose in case one happens to wander in front of me.”

“Storms are bad for fishin,’” the man said, nodding knowingly. “But they can be good for huntin.’ Storms bring the animals down from the big mountains. Moose especially like the mist and bears like to hunt in the rain when their prey can’t hear and see ‘em as good.”

“Good to know.” Flip smiled as he replaced the nozzle and turned to go inside and pay his tab.

“That your girl?” the man asked with a suggestive nod toward the gas station.

“That she is.” Flip turned to face the man, wondering if he’d end up getting in a fist fight while on vacation.

Not taking the hint, the man whistled appreciatively.

Flip decided the rube meant it as a compliment, so he simply agreed with a “Yup,” and went into the gas station. Kate had been suspiciously long inside anyway, something that nagged at the part of his mind that was always an officer on duty.

Inside the dingy little gas station, Flip saw his girl leaning against the counter engaged in an affable conversation with the attendant behind the counter, a squat older man with a heavily lined face and long silver hair in a braid hanging over his shoulder down to his gut. Flip wandered through the store, grabbing a few items that struck his fancy, some beef jerky, chips, candy bars, and other assorted junk food. At the back of the store, a menagerie of terrible taxidermy watched him with glassy eyes. Above the beverage coolers that lined the wall hung several deer and caribou and two enormous moose. A life-size grizzly bear stood on its hind feet in a corner, frozen mid-snarl, its head a solid three feet above Flip’s. He looked at its paws that were larger than his head and vicious curling claws, longer and thicker than his fingers. Facing such a beast, the gun he had in his truck now seemed very feeble. He grabbed a six-pack of stout beer bottles and an over-sized bottle of cheap wine and took his loot to the counter to pile it alongside Kate’s items.

“Have you heard about the wendigo?” Kate asked Flip when he joined her at the counter. The lilt in her voice told him she was highly amused. “My new friend was just telling me about it.”

“Yeah, wasn’t that the name of that stripper I arrested last year for blackmailing the mayor?” Flip smirked. “Wendy-Go?”

“He’s an idiot, I’m sorry,” Kate apologized to the man behind the counter, simultaneously elbowing Flip in the ribs. “Please ignore him and continue.”

The attendant gave Flip a sideways look and continued talking to Kate in a slow, backcountry drawl, “It is said the wendigo were people once, but now they are cursed. A wendigo is born during times of famine or in the harshest winter. When men are starving to death in the cold. When a man is weak, and he chooses the black path of cannibalism over death, butchering his fellows to save himself. When a man eats the flesh of another, he takes a curse upon himself. The wendigo lives in constant starvation, its body emaciated and rotting, only growing hungrier the more it eats. Its hunger can never be sated and it becomes a crazed beast with an insatiable bloodlust.”

“Is this insatiable bloodlust specific to tourists?” Flip asked sarcastically.

“Sometimes,” the man shrugged, unbothered. “It looks to punish those with greed in their hearts. Or, depending on which stories you believe, it seeks people who are like-minded to itself to build its own tribe.” He eyed Flip narrowly. “So, if a tourist is out greedily mining or wantonly slaughtering game, then yes, the wendigo will come for him.”

“Slaughtering is one of the few things I never do wantonly,” Flip deadpanned and slapped some cash down on the counter.

“You should be careful, son,” the old man told Flip seriously. “There are many ways a man can be greedy. He can be greedy for his woman and covetous of her.” Then he shrugged again. “But these are nothing more than old tales.”

“So, you don’t believe in the wendigo?” Kate asked.

“Oh, there’s no doubt in my mind he’s real. I’ve seen a wendigo twice. He has antlers taller than a caribou and wider than a moose, teeth like a wolf, and only skull sockets for eyes. But they glow. It’s the glow I remember most,” the man said genuinely as he counted out change. “I just don’t know if he was once a man, or something that was never human at all. Maybe the people who first came here created a myth to explain the monster rather than created a mythical monster themselves.”

“Maybe it’s a convenient way to scare pretty, gullible girls.” Flip smirked at Kate. Then he returned his attention to the cashier. “Let me guess, there’s something that wards off the wendigo? A silver crucifix or whatever? I bet we can buy it right here.”

“Nothing wards off the wendigo,” the man scoffed. “And he is far older than your crucifix. Why would a forest god bow to a stranger on a cross? Fire can stall him, maybe even frighten him, but it can only buy you time.” He looked outside the window at the building storm. “Not good weather for making a fire if you need it.”

“Damn shame.” Flip shook his head and began collecting their provisions in his arms. There were no courtesy bags.

“We do have flares,” the man suggested innocently. “They burn in any kind of weather, even underwater. All the bush pilots carry them.”

“Probably inside their emergency monster-hunting kit alongside the stakes for vampires and silver bullets for werewolves,” Flip laughed. “Go ahead. Load us up with some flares. Consider it a tip for a good campfire story.”

“It’s always smart to be prepared,” the man agreed as he placed two bundles of six red flares apiece on the counter and rang them up. They looked like bundles of dynamite.

Kate took the flares because Flip’s arms were already overfilled. She thanked the attendant and turned to leave.

The old man grabbed her by the elbow, stopping her and causing Flip’s hackles to rise. He spoke seriously, “Don’t whistle when you’re out in the woods. Whistling will summon the wendigo. Sometimes people hear whistling too, before it comes for them.”

“And these people who hear the whistling before it gets them,” Flip said as he edged his body between Kate and the counter and nudged her toward the exit. “They walk out of the woods to tell their story, huh?”

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

Their log cabin for the week was almost an hour’s drive from the gas station. It wasn’t that far as the crow flies, but the road was serpentine with switchbacks as it climbed the foot of the mountains and made even slower by soupy mud. It was set deep in the forest, surrounded by old-growth trees with trunks as thick as the truck’s bed. The sun set on their drive back. As it dipped below the mountainous horizon, the landscape glowed a shade of hazy purple only seen in the alpine. The clouds were the color of gunpowder and the rainy vapor was periwinkle. The spruce turned into an army of nearly black silhouettes with a light mist writhing among them as moisture rose from the damp ground as well as drizzled gently from the sky. The drifting mist made everything look as though it were moving. It gave the illusion of eldritch shapes in the trees creeping along the edges of vision and tree limbs grasping like clawed fingers as they swayed in the breeze.

Flip hit the brakes suddenly, slamming Kate forward in her seat and knocking her out of the reverie the gloaming forest had cast over her. A black shape froze in the muddy road a few yards ahead of them. Its eyes sparked cold white in the headlights and the fur on its back was raised aggressively.

“A wolf!” Flip said excitedly. “I’ve never seen one this close.”

The huge animal was coal black, its amber eyes reflecting white in the headlights in the way wolves eyes do. It stood frozen, staring down the vehicle, acting like the truck was a new creature intruding into the wolf’s territory. Something was wrong with its silhouette. Something with its mouth. It took several seconds for Kate to realize what it was. The wolf turned its head uncertainly, deciding whether it should continue on its way across the road or turn around from the metal beast with offense headlights. A dead rabbit dangled from its jaws, its legs swinging lifelessly and ears flopping limply. Its lifeless eyes glinted a dull red.

The simple reminder of nature’s brutality unnerved Kate unexpectedly and her hands felt suddenly cold. She gripped Flip’s hand, digging her nails into his palm with irrational harshness.

“Nature, red in tooth and claw,” he teased and grinned at her, but he laced his fingers through hers and squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Some redneck at the gas station told me that predators liked to hunt in the rain. Guess he was right.”

Night had veiled the forest with its velvety black cloak by the time they parked next to the porch of their cabin. It was silent enough to hear all the noises of the forest, from the chattering birds to the subtle rustling of deer browsing in the brush to moisture pattering lightly on the ground. A great horned owl as large as a man’s torso sat perched in a tree branch hanging near the roof of the cabin, its yellow eyes glittering like moonlight as it hooted an eerie cadence. It followed them with its yellow eyes as they unloaded the truck and carried their loot inside, its head turned almost fully backward like a creature possessed.

There was no light pollution and on a clear night, the moon and stars lit the forest bright enough to see easily. On a rainy night, moisture in the air brought out all the smells of the forest, the crisp spruce, the earthy soil, the embers in the fireplace. The cabin had no electric lines and was powered by a temperamental generator and a wood stove. A woodpile was stacked against the back of the cabin, complete with a large timber axe embedded in a nearby stump. Cell service was laughable. Flip loved everything about all of that. He was pleased it had running water, however, mainly because it would have greatly impacted his sex life if it didn’t.

Flip grilled steaks outside that night before the rain hit and they had dinner on the porch, counting lightning bolts. Then they tangled around each other in front of the fireplace, making love as the flames crackled and danced and the thunder rolled. Between dinner and fooling around several times, they finished the bottle of wine and opened another. Night fell early this far north in the autumn and the nights were long. The cabin was equipped with a tv, but it was one of those terrible old boxy things with a tiny screen and antennas. The antennas were only for show since there was no service. Instead, there was a vcr and a selection of campy nineties movies and some even campier porn. It seemed to defeat the purpose of being there to even bother with the tv. They hadn’t turned it on once.

“I’m wide awake,” Kate mused, propped up on Flip’s bare chest, looking down at him. “Let’s do something.”

“I have plenty of ideas,” Flip said huskily. “They’re all sure to wear you out.”

“We’ve tried your ideas. Several times. And I’m still far from worn out.” She smiled. “We’re here in a cabin, basically having a sleepover. Let’s play some sleepover games, the kind you play as idiot teenagers or in sororities in college.”

“I think girls have a lot wilder sleepovers than boys. And my experience with sororities is limited to sneaking in and out of them, so you’ll have to be more specific.” He ran his fingertips along her spine and kissed her throat, doing his best to interest her in another round.

“Later, you animal,” she laughed and shoved his face away while pushing herself up and off him. “You know what I mean. Sleepover games. Like Bloody Mary, or playing a Ouija Board, or the Midnight Game.”

“Packed a Ouija Board, did you?” he teased. “That would explain why your suitcase weighs fifty fuckin’ pounds.”

“I don’t think ghosts care whether or not you use a name brand.” She pinched his chest, making him flinch.

“What ghosts are you gonna find out here?” He squinted as he rubbed his chest. “The Donner Party?”

“Don’t you think they’d be fun to talk to? We can try Bloody Mary. I don’t think she has a centralized location,” she teased and pulled on her discarded pair of pajama pants and a hoodie. She threw Flip’s grey sweatpants at him. “Put that thing away or it might scare off the ghosts.”

Flip grumbled more protests under his breath, but he dressed in his sweats and a thermal henley. “How about we each stand in front of the bathroom mirror with the lights off. I’ll ask for Candyman. You ask for Bloody Mary. And we’ll have a Celebrity Death Match between vengeful ghosts?”

“You know the ghosts always get the cynics and the cocky shitheads first, right?” She shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest in a faux reprimand.

“Is that a rule?” Flip grinned. “I think the ghosts go for the morally corrupt woman who can’t keep her legs closed first. You’re in trouble, sugar.”

“There’s only one way to find out,” she said with finality.

“How about we play a fun game, like spin the bottle or truth or dare?” He winked at her. “I always pick dare. Do your worst.”

“I can’t imagine where a game of truth or dare with you would lead.” She rolled her eyes sarcastically.

Flip puffed his chest and stepped closer to her until their bodies were almost touching. “I have a better idea. You have some pretty big balls for a pretty little girl. Let’s see how big they really are.”

“Oh my god, Flip, if this is another ploy to explore that region further…” she laughed.

“Everything I do is some kinda means to that end.” He smirked. “But we’ll get to that later. Now, let’s go outside and whistle at the wendigo. There should be some of those sonsabitches around these parts.”

Flip went to the door and stepped into his muddy boots. He leaned against the doorframe, casually cocky, and raised an eyebrow at her in a challenge. “How ‘bout it, hot stuff?”

“I think we’d be better off trying to summon Bloody Mary than a wendigo,” Kate said hesitantly. “Plus, it will be cold out there.”

“I’ll keep you warm,” he teased. “How do you figure that trying to summon a ghost through our bathroom mirror would be safer than trying to call in a wendigo? At least a wendigo will stay outside. Besides, I know how psycho you’d get if I let another woman into our bedroom. Dead or alive. Don’t try to set me up, sweetheart.”

Rolling her eyes again, Kate pulled her coat on and slipped her phone into its pocket, feeling the bundle of flares she had absently pocketed at the gas station. There was no service, but its flashlight might come in handy outside. Grinning, Flip picked up the rifle that was leaning against the doorframe and slung it over his shoulder. Cocky though he was, he took the advice serious about the threat of bears and always having a gun on him out here in the wilderness. He held the door open for Kate and ushered her outside.

The air was thick with humidity but the rain had stopped for the moment, leaving the moisture on the air to chill their skin and turn their breath into ghostly thick fog. The porch was covered in slushy frost as bright as diamonds. Their boot prints left skeletal black outlines on the otherwise pristine frosty canvas as they descended the steps and walked into the forest that awaited them only yards away.

Flip offered Kate his arm and led her into the trees. The old growth forest felt like being inside a fairytale, surrounded by enormous tree trunks and relatively open ground at their bases. The roots of those great trees were so thirsty, they leeched most of the nutrients and left little for brush and scrub to encroach. After the rain, the ground was muddy and slick, with frost growing denser by the minute as the temperature dropped through the night.

Filling his lungs, Flip began whistling a terribly off-key tune as he walked through the woods. His casual swagger was the same as if he were taking his girl out for a stroll in the park. Kate winced when he struck a particularly loathsome note, and squinted her eyes at him, “What in the hell are you whistling?”

“Season of the Witch,” he replied, acting offended. “I thought you’d appreciate it.”

“I like the song, I don’t appreciate what you’re doing to it,” she laughed. “We’re not going to find any wendigo if you scare them all off with that horrendous noise.”

“I don’t hear you doing any better,” he scoffed.

Mainly in an attempt to save her ears from his screeching, Kate started whistling. She teased Flip first with her best wolf whistle. Smells were heightened in the damp air but sounds were muffled. In the silence of the forest, the whistle sounded unnaturally loud. Now that Flip wasn’t making noise himself, he found himself focusing more on his surroundings. He didn’t feel right, something he couldn’t put his finger on tugged at the back of his mind. It wasn’t just that noises were muffled by the dampness in the air, but something else that he found indefinable in that moment. He told himself it was just the product of being in an unfamiliar place, surrounded by unfamiliar vegetation that he found unsettling. The size of trees still seemed monstrous to him, and the smell of spruce instead of the familiar smell of pine must have been unsettling to his subconscious. And it probably didn’t help that he had cultivated a little buzz drinking wine for the past few hours.

A light gust of wind blew into his face and all of his senses sparked with alarm. He froze in place, seizing Kate’s arm to silence her whistling. The unmistakable scent of a wet animal hit his nose with the force of a slap in the face. Quickly evaluating his surroundings, he unslung the rifle from his shoulder and held it across his chest in high port. It would take him less than a second to aim and fire. But the forest was close around them, visibility limited to fifteen feet or so in any direction. If the animal was a predator, a bear or a mountain lion, it could cover that distance in less than a heartbeat if it wanted. He could still see the faint glow of the cabin’s lights. They hadn’t gone far, but there was no chance of outrunning an animal back to safety.

A heavy footfall sounded inside the trees ahead of them, muffled on the wet ground but distinctive. Straining his ears, Flip thought he heard a branch being brushed aside by something passing by it. Whatever it was, it was very close ahead of them. Flip’s thoughts raced, less cohesive and more a rush of images of nightmare scenarios that he weighed in an instant. He could hide himself and Kate behind one of the huge tree trunks and hope the animal passed them by. But whatever it was had to already know of their presence. If his feeble senses could hear and smell the animal, it had no doubt smelled and heard him much sooner. In that case, he decided it was best to hold his ground and meet whatever it was head on, straight down the barrel of his rifle. That would give them the best chance. Flip would have to make his shot count, and he’d probably only get one, but it was a decent chance.

Stepping in front of Kate, Flip raised his rifle to his shoulder. He kept both eyes open, not limiting his focus to only what was past the end of his barrel, but trying to expand his senses to the full spectrum of forest in front of him. He heard a heavy breath, something panting. Closer now. Flip clicked off the safety and tightened his finger on the trigger. The hardest skill for a hunter to learn, especially when hunting game that hunted him back, is to wait long enough for a good shot but not so long as to let it get him. He wouldn’t waste his shot until he saw his target clearly and could be sure of putting the bullet where it would matter most. His hold on the gun was rock steady, his breath stalled, his eyes unblinking.

The panting grew in volume until it seemed to drum in his ears. Odd for a stalking predator. Before Flip could reconcile that, a bear burst from the trees only feet in front of him. A huge grizzly bear lumbering toward him on all fours, the top of its humped shoulders taller than Flip’s head. His finger tensed, less than a millimeter of movement was required to fire. But something was off with the bear. It was panting heavily, saliva dripping from its open mouth and fog snorting in bursts from its wet nose. The bear stopped short at the sight of the man with a gun right in front of it, clearly surprised, very unlike a predator who had been stalking the man. Flip hesitated. If he didn’t kill the bear immediately with one shot – drop it right in its tracks – it would maul them both before it died. If the bear wasn’t hunting him, it was a foolish risk to take. Grizzlies were not commonly hunting predators; they were scavengers and fishers. Most people who were mauled by grizzlies had either gotten between a mother and her cubs or a bear and its food, or they had startled it like waking a grumpy old man.

Sniffing the air, the bear looked at Flip. He was so close he could see the small particles of moisture the bear blew out of its nose along with steam when it snorted. The bear’s little round ears flicked, one turning backward to listen behind it. The bear’s eyes were wide, showing white, in a nervous gesture that was common to both man and beast. The bear looked back over its shoulder and then broke into a gallop. Flip’s rational mind told him to shoot, but his instinct prevented him. The bear altered course enough to avoid running straight into Flip. It paid him no further mind at all, instead running right by him. Flip followed it with the barrel of his rifle as it passed by him so close that a string of white saliva landed on the rifle’s blue-black barrel.

Turning around about face, Flip followed the bear with his sights until it was well past them and showed no signs of turning back around. He looked back toward the place the bear had come from, still holding the rifle to his shoulder. He didn’t look at Kate when he told her, “Walk back to the cabin. Don’t run, but go now.”

“You want me to follow the bear?” she hissed. “He ran toward the cabin. I don’t want to get near him again.”

“Follow the bear,” Flip gritted. “If a bear’s runnin’ from something, we’d best do the same. He didn’t care about us anyway. Now, move.”

Uncertainly, Kate turned and retreated toward the cabin. They hadn’t gone that far, after all. Flip backed after her, keeping his rifle aimed into the black forest from which the bear had run. A shrill scream splintered the silence, starker than a bolt of lightning. Kate shuddered and Flip ducked, hunching his shoulders like he had taken a punch. The scream shrilled for several seconds, wavering on a blood-curdling note before trailing away. It echoed around them, seeming to float on the mist.

“That’s just an elk bugling,” Flip said, trying to calm Kate. Maybe it was in fact an elk, a sickly, ravenous elk. “Keep moving, slowly.”

“I’ve never heard an elk that sounded like that.” Kate shivered against more than the chilled air. “This is starting to scare the hell out of me.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take your mind off of it when we get back,” Flip tried to joke but he couldn’t muster the required lewdness, his mouth was too dry.

The howling scream burst again through the forest. It was something like an elk bugle, but more howling and rasping, with a sort of growling mingled in at the end as it trailed away. It was closer now. Flip felt as much as heard it reverberate inside his skull.

“Whatever that is, it’s not an elk.” Kate had her arms wrapped around her body, trying to prevent herself from being overtaken by tremors.

“Sure, it is,” Flip lied. “They probably just grow ‘em bigger up here.”

Kate blew out a shuddering breath, fighting to keep her steps slow and steady.

“Pick up the pace a little, darlin,’” Flip rasped.

“You said not to run,” Kate hissed.

“I didn’t say to crawl either!” Flip gritted. “This is one hell of a time for you to start listening to me.”

Instead of moving faster, Kate stopped short. So suddenly, Flip bumped into her as he walked backward. A branch snapped somewhere inside the forest. It was strangely loud. Flip realized then that the snap only sounded harsh because the forest had gone utterly silent. The hundreds of small noises from birds and insects were gone. Even the drops of water falling from tree branches seemed to have stopped. The forest felt like a living thing around them, possessed of a presence all its own. Now that presence was altered into something darker and ominous.

“What the hell are you doing?” Flip’s voice had dropped to a whisper without his conscious approval. “I said keep moving. We’re not far from the cabin.”

“Turn around.” Kate’s voice trembled.

Dropping the rifle for a moment, Flip looked back over his shoulder. His nerves must be playing tricks on his eyes. He turned fully around, holding the rifle at high port across his chest. The view of the forest that met him was foreign. It wasn’t the same forest they had walked through only minutes before. The trees were more skeletal, their grasping branches more cloying. Moss hung from the branches like the lank hair of a corpse, and the ground was spongy underfoot, as if the forest was rotting around them. Even the air smelled stale and moldy. Thunder boomed overhead and lightning illuminated the forest in patches like a stop-motion movie. Most unsettling of all, the comforting glow of the cabin lights that could be seen through the trees had vanished or been snuffed out.

“What the fuck…” Flip’s voice trailed away as he took in the strangeness of their surroundings. A burst of lightning brought the forest into focus for a gleaming second. Bizarre shapes hung in the trees like a macabre abomination of Christmas tree ornaments, figures made from twigs lashed together with sinew to form pentagrams and humanoid shapes and horned beings. Flip swallowed thickly and ignored them. “We couldn’t have gotten turned around so fast.”

“We didn’t.” Kate looked around frantically. “I could see the cabin lights, then I heard that horrible bugle and looked around for it. And then the lights were gone. They couldn’t have all gone out, not all at once.”

“Lightning must have struck the cabin,” Flip lied again. Nothing about the forest looked familiar to him now and everything about it felt wrong. “Must have shorted out the lights.” There was no reason to scare Kate more than she already was. “It’s alright, we don’t need lights for what I have in mind when we get back.”

The scent of wet dog hit Flip again on a gust of wind, yanking his attention in the direction of the odor. He saw a heap of dark fur, glistening from the spotty rain and aimed his rifle at the creature. It didn’t move. Steam rose from the furry mass. Flip noted another smell on the air, something with a coppery aftertaste that coated the roof of his mouth. He edged forward, looking at the steaming animal down the barrel of his rifle, his finger resting on the trigger, ready to fire. He recognized the beast when another bolt of lightning revealed the horror to him.

“Don’t look,” he said to Kate, but it was too late. She clasped a hand over her mouth to keep her scream from escaping.

The huge grizzly bear they had encountered minutes before lay on its side in a broken heap of matted fur. Steam spiraled into the air from its torn-open belly, its entrails protruding from the mangled tissue like uncooked sausage. The gaping wound was only minutes old. The bear’s body temperature would plummet rapidly in the frigid air and it was still warm now. Even as they stared, the steam began to abate. Hanging in the branches of the tree nearest the bear carcass were several more bizarre figures crafted from twigs.

The screeching growling bugle erupted again, very close this time. Flip nudged Kate ahead, keeping his rifle at the ready, but not knowing where to aim it.

“Which way do we go?” Her breath came in shuddering puffs of fog.

“I don’t know,” Flip admitted. “Away from here.”

Amid a stand of spruce to his side, bare tree branches swayed in the wind, their spiky fingers waving ominously. Flip hadn’t noticed the wind pick up. Looking at the oddly swaying branches, he realized there was no wind. The air had gone as still as the inside of a crypt. The strange branches were bare, glistening wet and pointed upward, still swaying.

A flash of lightning illuminated the creature and Flip flinched so hard he almost fired accidentally.

What he had taken for bare branches was a set of enormous antlers, shaped somewhere between a moose and a caribou and as large as an Irish elk, with wide paddles and long spiked tines spurting out non-typically like broken fingers. It had a dark mane like an elk with a tawny, painfully emaciated body. Flat tines of several spinal processes protruded through the hide at the top of its high withers and one hip bone showed through the skin. But its head was the most terrible of all. Its face was in an advanced stage of rot, dregs of sagging flesh barely clinging to the skull. White skull bone gleamed in exposed patches, and its sharp, lupine teeth were long in the exposed jawbone and ragged. Its nasal cavity was bare, the fleshy nose rotten away, leaving only the pointed bones and a black hollow. It had no eyes that Flip could see, but there was an evil gleam inside its sockets, like embers inside a pile of ash. The monster shook its head, slinging water from its great spiked antlers. Then it leveled its head like a bull about to charge and fixed its glowing eyes on Flip.

“Shoot it,” Kate whispered, her eyes wide with terror.

“I don’t think it’ll do any good.” Flip looked down the barrel at the rotting flesh covering the walking skeleton and white bone peeking from beneath. The monster’s glowing eyes were not something found among the living. Without lowering his rifle, he looked at Kate and met her eyes. “It’ll come for me first. I’ll make sure of that, and I’ll stall it as much as I can. Get to the truck, darlin.’ The keys are in it. Run like hell.”

“I’m not leaving you!” she said vehemently, her voice losing some fervor when the creature took an ominous step closer, its enormous antlers swaying with its gait.

She felt for her phone, hoping there might be service. Not that another human could even reach them in less than an hour, making any idea of help hopeless. Her hand closed around the lumpy bundle of flares. With an excited breath, she freed a flare from the bundle and fumbled with lighting it.

The monster bugled angrily, a sound so shrill it felt like it grated along their spines. It rushed toward them through the trees, its teeth bared and eyes aflame. Flip fired, sending a bullet right between those glowing eyes. He even saw the bullet strike and tear away more rotting flesh, leaving a pearly white hole in the skull. It didn’t slow the monster or even make it flinch. He bolted another round into the chamber on instinct, staring down the barrel at the demonic eyes that were fixed upon him.

Kate popped the cap off the flare. The cap had an abrasive tip like a matchhead and she struck it to the end of the flare, holding it high as it burst to life. With their eyes accustomed to the darkness, the flare seemed as bright as sunlight, searing black pulsing spots into their vision. The monster squealed again, shaking its head with pain or irritation. Its antlers caught in the tree branches, stalling its advance. The flare burned and popped, hot on Kate’s face even at arm’s length and blindingly bright.

The landscape around them crackled and wavered, like a tv signal trying to come in through static. The trees looked less skeletal and more normal, like they had been before, and the strange twig figures vanished. The cabin lights glowed through the trees, yellow and warm, not far from them.

“It’s in our heads!” Kate shouted. “It’s making us hallucinate, but I can see the cabin and the truck now.”

“The light bothers it,” Flip said as he reached into her coat pocket, grabbing three flares and leaving her the remaining two. The monster wrenched its antlers free of the branches where it was tangled and lurched toward them in a shambling gait.

Shouldering his rifle that was of no more use than a club against the monster, Flip bit the cap off a flare with his teeth and struck the head. He rammed the end into the muddy ground at his feet, leaving the tip burning. The beast reared, shrieking with rage and clawing the air with its cloven hooves as Flip backed away. He could see the glow of the cabin lights now too. It was hard to resist the urge to run to the light.

Flip lit the next flare. Kate was a few yards ahead of him, gaining ground toward the truck. It would take whoever reached it first a minute to start it. Flip had a good throwing arm and even better aim. The monster lunged at him, rage overriding whatever else had been driving it to pursue them so far. Flip drew back his arm, took a second to aim at the gaping black jaws, and threw the lit flare as hard as he could. The flaming tip cartwheeled through the air like a throwing knife before the fiery head struck the monster right where its nose should have been. But it had no nose, its nasal cavity was exposed in its partially skeletal head. Robin Hood could not have struck a finer bullseye. The flaming tip sank deep into the nasal cavity, embedding itself there.

Screaming terribly, the wendigo shook its head and stomped its hooves, rearing and bucking like a horse that had stepped on a hornet’s nest. It couldn’t shake the flare free from its skull. The flames spread, shooting out through holes in the rancid flesh of its cheeks and jaws. It looked as though it breathed fire when it screeched, belching flare fumes and flames out of its hacking mouth.

“We’re not gonna get a better chance than this!” Flip roared at Kate as he burst into a run toward her. She had a few paces head start on him and sprinted ahead toward the truck.

Kate reached the truck first, yanking the driver’s door open and jumping inside. Flip could bitch about her driving all he wanted, but she dared not spare the extra second or two for him to take the wheel. Not with the eldritch monster galloping toward them, bugling terribly, flames bellowing from its mouth and nose. Flip had his one remaining flare in hand when he reached the truck. The engine roared to life.

Instead of joining Kate inside the cab, Flip vaulted into the truck bed and shouted for her to drive. Kate slammed the truck into gear, throwing Flip against the side of the bed. Regaining his balance, he dropped to his knees and planted his back against the rear window, making himself as steady as he could. Kate was speeding as fast as she dared down the muddy, winding road, and it wasn’t fast enough. The wendigo pursued them, galloping after the truck and gaining ground. Striking the tip of his flare, Flip held the flaming tip aloft, casting the entire truck in a halo of searing red fire. The wendigo allowed more distance between them, smart enough to keep outside of throwing range of another flare.

Kate took a slippery curve too fast, the truck fishtailing as she recovered control, slinging Flip from one side of the bed to the other. The flare was nearly whipped from his hand, but he clenched his fist tight to keep his hold. Gritting his teeth, he composed himself, using all his strength to keep his balance and keep his arm held high. He couldn’t afford to lose a flare. They only had three flares left, and it was going to take every last burning second of each one to reach town.

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

Tagging some buddies!

#best #fic #halloween #my stuff!#my writing #flip #adventurer #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman x you

87 notes · View notes

ladyinwriting18 · 1 year ago

Text

Traditions (Flip Zimmerman x Reader)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You both moan into the kiss, movements becoming sloppy.

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

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

Your body starts to shake.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Flip?”

“Hm?” he responds.

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

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

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

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

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

117 notes · View notes

autumnleaves1991-blog · 3 years ago

Note

Oooo, Thirsty Thursday!

Here’s one of my favorite thirsty thoughts for Flip. With those worn, supple leather shoulder holsters, I really just think about holding onto them for dear life while he has me pinned against the wall, railing me for all he’s worth.

It could be somewhere public where, although he tries to be quiet, he still shakes the walls with his enthusiasm while he pounds into you. Or it could be at home when you’ve just asked him to keep them on and give you a wild ride.

A/N: You want me to write for Flip? Sign me the hell up. Thanks for the request love. :D

Warnings: 18 + for language, p in v sex, and unprotected sex.

This case was getting to him, making him question everything he's ever done before. His religion, beliefs, his identity, everything was in question and he could slowly feel himself spiraling out of control.

You follow close behind him and watch him enter the file room at the back and walk it locking it behind you. "Flip?" you ask quietly trying not to spook him but it's useless, he turns quickly to you. His chest heaving, hair a mess from where he'd run his hands through it, and his eyes wide.

"What are you doing in here?" he asks with a tremble taking a step closer to you, "you need to go, now."

"I'm not going anywhere," you stand your ground. You and Flip had been on a couple dates before this whole undercover thing started, and you really liked him. "You need to calm down," you hold your hands out and press them against his chest.

"I-I can't," he holds onto your arms tight and presses his head against yours, "I don't know if I can keep doing this."

"You can," you smile, "you just need to let out some stress." You grab the leather holsters under his arms and pull him further into the file room till you hit the row of cabinets. You let go and reach under your skirt for the clips of your garter, the sound of them snapping drawing him from his thoughts.

He grabs your hands, and his eyes darken, "no, sweetheart, no, I-I can't be gentle right now."

"I won't break, Flip; use me however you need and finish this damn thing. I- I miss you," he softens at your words with a nod.

You finish unsnapping the garter and pull down your panties, watching his shaking hands move to his belt and unbuckle it popping the button and lowering the zipper. You push your pencil skirt up around your waist, and his eyes drop, taking in the silk thigh-high stockings and garter clips hanging. "You're so fucking beautiful," he whispers, dropping his head to kiss you.

The kisses soon turn frantic, and before you know it, he has you off the ground, your back against the cool metal of the file cabinet. Your fingers dig into the leather holsters, and you hold on for dear life as he pounds into you, his nose running over your cheek and mouth, leaving marks up and down your neck.

Anyone walking by outside is going to know what you're up to with how loud the cabinet is slamming against the wall with every thrust. And when you cum together with a moan against his lips, his tongue entangled with yours, you could care less.

He presses his forehead to yours, keeping you tight to him, so you don't fall as he lowers you back to solid ground. "Feel better now?" you ask with a smile, and he grins back at you with a nod.

"Much, better actually," he chuckles, pressing a kiss to your lips. He leans down and helps you step back into your panties, dropping to his knees to snap your garter into place. He rises to his feet, and you watch him pull himself back together before reaching for you and holding you in his arms. "Thank you," he whispers, "for making sure I don't fall apart."

"Anytime, Flip, anytime." You hold him in the file room for another twenty minutes before someone bangs at the door and interrupts his moment of safety, but when he leaves that night, he has a spring in his step, and life doesn't seem as bleak as before.

#Thirsty Thursday #Autumn Writes #Adam Driver #Flip Zimmerman #Flip Zimmerman x Female Reader #Female Reader

92 notes · View notes

finn-ray-nal-beads · 4 years ago

Text

The Time Of The Season

A/N: Hey guys! I finally felt slightly good enough to post this and hopefully, it does this story some justice. The wedding is coming up and a surprise or two is in store before this whole craziness wraps up! All of the love from me to you and thank you for being patient with me!

Warnings: Fluff, smut, tw: slight somnophilia, tw: slight choking, tw: daddy kink, tw: breeding kink, tw: unprotected sex, creampies (because I'm so predictable), oral sex (F receiving), all kinds of warm fuzzies (because again I love these two), squirting

(PLEASE for the love of Satan let me know if I miss a tag or TW, I try to be so hyper-aware and I miss tags all the time, I am so sorry)

The light shone through the cream curtains once again in your soft bedroom. The rays of sunlight bathing the cotton sheets as you woke up to the sound of his breath panting on the back of your neck.

The baby hairs standing in goosebumps as the hot air ebbed and flowed over your soft skin. He stirred slightly, pulling you into him like a stuffed animal, forcing his morning wood to bury itself into the crevices of your asscheeks. You laughed slightly, eyes still shut, bathing in the morning sun as you listened to the morning sounds. The birds chirping, a lawnmower in the distance stirring, along with someone hammering something down the road. It was another lazy Sunday.

Flip didn't have work, and it was the only day out of the week you both truly had for the two of you together. And you both made the most out of it doing the simple tasks you loved of course, on top of planning a stressful wedding, to which you both shoved aside for this day and this day only.

It was perfect, the feeling of him tightening his grip on your waist as he began to stir awake as well. His gruff moan in between your shoulder blades hid his tired eyes to the morning sunlight. He pecked the skin with his lips, rubbing up and down your midsection as you melted into him.

“Good morning, cowboy,” you whispered, running a small hand through his bed head as he gruffed a reply back.

“Mornin’,” he rose from behind you, laying a head between your neck and shoulder as he pushed into your head massage, “how did you sleep honey?” he whispered back, kissing and licking on your earlobe.

“Mmm, so good,” you said with a slight gasp, feeling his big hand knead your naked tit, hearing his graveled voice moan in his throat as he felt your ass push back on his pelvis.

“Is my butterfly all wet?” he groaned, his cock stiffening even harder as he heard your pretty voice sing for him, “did I not do my job last night?” smiling as he trailed kisses down your neck, running his other hand to cup your cunt in his grip, your folds completely slicked with arousal.

“Jesus, honey,” he growled, inhaling your sweet floral scent as you moaned, your hips pushing into his digits as he circled your bud with his middle finger slow and steady.

“I’ll always need you, Phil,” his tip twitched hearing your gorgeously shrill voice whisper his name.

“Just say the words, Y/N, I’ll make ya feel good,” inching his cock in between your warm thighs, his eyes rolling back in his head from the touch of your supple skin on his aching member.

“Fuck me, cowboy,” gripping his cheek from behind in a searing kiss, his hips pushing his dick deep into you with a single thrust, the feeling causing the both of you to groan in pleasure as your tongues touched each other.

“So, fuckin’ good for me,” he grunted, picking up the pace as he gripped your hip in a fervor, “I love you so much, Y/N,” panting as he kissed up and down your neck, bathing your mewls for him.

“I-I love you m-most,” you gasped, his tip gliding over your walls in the most tantalizing of ways, causing you to grip at the sheets in bundles while your mouth fell open in absolute pleasure.

“T-that’s it butterfly,” he cooed, picking up his pace again, slightly, to rub even faster on that spot he came to know very well, “you cum all over this cock,” he growled, bringing his free hand to grip your throat.

Your eyes rolling back in your head as the oxygen supply was depleting. Your moans and writhing only spurring his ministrations faster as he rubbed the spot to stoke that fire to a full blaze.

The feeling was euphoric. Your release came over you in a cascade of sparkles behind your closed eyes. The waterfall began from your crown to your toes as it washed over you in a stimulated haze. His words and actions only prolonging the high as he felt your velvet cunt clench around him.

“Jesus f-fucking,” he punched in once more, the hot gravy releasing into your hole in a flood as he gritted his teeth, his head resting in between your neck still while you pet his matted hair.

“Such a good boy,” you cooed, kissing him in bliss as you felt his cum coat your walls, the warmth from the sun no match as you reveled in his release.

“Mmm, I’m glad I could help,” he panted, kissing you again, this time more sweetly as your breaths timed downward, and the highs subsided slowly.

“What are we up to today honey?” gripping your ass cheek as he slid himself out of you, making sure to stuff the dribble back up where it belonged, loving the little moans you released as he did so.

“What we usually do,” stretching yourself out while he hovered over you, kissing every inch of exposed skin and whispering pretty little things as he did so. You gripped his face after the tenth kiss on your stomach, bringing his handsome features to strike your soul as you rubbed his cheeks with your thumbs.

“I just love you,” whispering as he lowered himself to kiss you ever so softly, “so much,” your noses touching as your eyes closed in unison, taking each other in as best you could, his hands coming to rub your cheeks too.

“I love you the most,” he barely whispered, kissing you again, the feeling of his mustache tickling your upper lip in the best way.

“We should take the dogs to the market with us today,” he sat up, rubbing the side of his neck, his muscled back tensing as he groaned from the soreness.

“I think that’s a good idea, cowboy,” sitting up to bring your delicate hands to his shoulder blade, rubbing circles slow and steady as you felt him relax from your touch.

“Did you sleep on this wrong?” hearing him wince and moan as you rubbed the knot out from the muscle.

“Possibly,” he chuckled, “I’m just gettin’ old,” laughing out loud as he grunted up from the bed, heading to the bathroom to get the shower started for the two of you.

“Psh,” you threw the sheets off yourself, your naked form glowing in the sunlight with a warm glisten of sweat and beauty, “you’re anything but,” finding your way to the bathroom too.

_____________

Spring in Colorado was magical. The wildflowers were blooming everywhere you turned, the smell of the crisp mountain air, the slight bite in the wind as the clouds rolled by. It was all as if it had been in a storybook. And the city was booming with the end of Winter. Shops opened up their doors, restaurants had outdoor seating, and the most anticipated market had come back into the streets as farmers and salesmen alike showed off their wares and the people flocked from all over to get a taste of the local goods.

Flip and you loved to go on Sundays. The crowds were lesser as people were in church or doing something else for the day, and the produce was fresher and easier to spot than on any given Saturday. The flowers were also to die for; the array of colors cascaded in bright pinks, blues, indigos, and yellows all over the landscape.

The babies tagged along, clad in their sweaters to keep them warm in the breeze, and in booties to which Flip insisted as their feet needed to be protected from possible injury. They smelled the flowers, sat next to the booths with their daddy while mommy browsed through the picks of the day.

The deal always was to visit every booth regardless of a purchase or not. Your theory was that maybe you’d find something you didn’t even know you needed, to which Flip always rolled his eyes at being the bag carrier.

“Honey,” after the millionth booth it seemed, “the dogs are tired and I’m starving,” he almost whined, the babies sitting at his feet with their tongues hanging out, the bags everywhere as his hands got tired of carrying the loads.

You came out of the mecca of flowers, carrying several bouquets, “which one babe?” showing him the array you had in your arms.

“Butterfly,” he whined again, sighing as you waited for a response, “just pick one I don’t care which one it is... I just want a fucking hamburger,” watching you roll your eyes at his childlike attitude.

“Honey, please just tell me which one, I can’t decide between them,” begging him to answer with something as you were starving too.

“Fuck,” he grunted, adjusting himself so he could see them better, “I like those,” pointing at the bouquet with peonies all over them.

“I knew I loved you,” smiling ear to ear as he’d picked the exact one you wanted him to, skipping to the cashier to purchase the blooms.

He took the load to the car while you took the baby’s potty, making sure they were okay before deciding on a place to sit down and eat.

You both decided on a small bistro that had outdoor seating. A less popular one so you could sit and hear each other speak while letting the dogs lay under the chairs.

You both ordered drinks and skimmed over the menu items, settling on stuff to share rather than getting separate entrees. You loved the intimacy of having similar palates, reveling in the flavors together while you discussed details about the day, the week coming up, and just being in each other’s company.

Flip had been wound a little too tight lately. Well, he always was, but it had been elevated since this big murder case came across his desk. It was a string of them, all seemingly connected, but with no real evidence to link them together.

This frustrated him to no end, tracing back and forth on the same details, trying to find any sort of linkage, and coming up with only dead ends. The most aggravating part had to be that with every step forward in the case, there happened to always be another assault or murder stringing up to cloud the evidence in more confusion. It had to be coincidental, you kept telling him when he came home smelling of heavy cigarette smoke, there had to be a piece to this puzzle.

He always got his man. That was why he had been promoted to homicide. He was a good detective, looking through every shrivel of evidence until his eyes crossed. Not leaving any stone unturned. And if this killer was to be caught, he had to be the man to find him come Hell or high water.

But today wasn’t the day for that kind of talk. Today was the one day he found solace in being in reality. That reality, of course, being you and the life he had built out of nothing so suddenly.

He silently reveled in your musings, loving the sound of your voice as you spoke of wedding details and such. He still couldn't believe that this was his life. That you were here, changing it in all the best ways. Making it worth living and worth all the struggle it took him to get there.

He drowned in your laughter, your gestures, the way you sipped on your wine, the way the lights glimmered in your eyes and the sun shined on your skin. How the curves of your body hugged the dress you chose, the supple skin on your chest peeking from the fabric, how your eyelashes batted in the light, the way your hair flowed in the light breeze. You were mesmerizing. And you were all his… Forever.

The shimmer of that diamond on your finger stoked it all for him. The whole drama that had led up to that Godforsaken proposal. It made him shudder to his core. But in the end, it settled your lives into one. You had all the strings attached, and now they were falling into the culmination of the union. And hopefully more in the future.

He stared into your eyes, hoping and wishing that you’d want more after the vows had been said. Wanting to give you everything and more to make you the happiest forever. He never had pegged himself to be a hopeless romantic, throwing more caution to the wind as he settled night after lonely night in his bachelor pad, which had now been renovated to meet your needs on top of his.

He loved his life now. Never wanting any of it to change for the worse, and he was determined to make that perfect, even if everything else wasn’t.

“You okay honey?” gripping his free hand and rubbing the palm as you kept sipping your wine, “where’d you go?” your eyebrows furrowing slightly as you watched him snap out of his thoughts.

“Just lookin’,” He smiled, his dimples coming out to make your heart melt as he put both hands to clasp yours, bringing them to his lips to kiss the soft skin.

“Why are you so perfect?” you cooed, his smile lighting up the entire outdoors seemingly as his teeth showed.

“I’m not at all,” he laughed, rubbing your skin in his to warm your hand up from the sun setting chill.

You huffed a laugh, putting your free hand under your chin while you cocked your head to the side, melting at his preciousness.

He was your perfect match. The other half of your soul. The light and darkness, the Alpha to your Omega. And he was perfect… To you.

“You are,” whispering just above a breath, “you’re everything,” the tears threatening to spill as you reveled in the adoration from him.

“You’re my everything,” his voice matching yours as he leaned over the table, meeting your lips with his in the slightest of kisses, only to be broken by the faint whimper of Waddles.

“I think we need to get them home, honey,” he chuckled, looking at the exhausted pumpkins pawing at his boots.

“Agreed,” taking a huge swig while he gestured to the waiter for the bill.

____________

Flip had insisted on bringing every bag in, putting the contents away just how you liked them, taking the dogs out to go potty, and putting them in bed for the night, so you could get ready to relax. You tried to convince him that you could and were capable of helping, to no avail as his sternness only made it into a fight you knew you’d never win.

So you trudged upstairs, getting yourself all pampered for bed, wearing a silk slip, and putting your hair up in a messy bun while you lotioned yourself up for the evening.

You took down the sheets, the cotton feeling so soft and serene as you flipped on the salt lamp in the corner of the bedroom, making the ambiance calm and collected while you flipped some quiet music on to set the mood.

Time Of The Season softly wafted from the record player, settling you into the welcoming bed with your book while you waited for your man to slide in for the night.

You heard his heavy footsteps come up from the living room, revealing his exhausted frame as he sighed upon seeing you all ready for him.

“Are they okay?” putting your book down on your lap as you pat the side of the bed for him to lay on.

“Just fine honey,” he grunted, pulling his boots off and unbuttoning his flannel to reveal his rippling pectorals in the soft light of the bedroom.

“That’s pretty,” he huffed, seeing the slitted silky dress you’d chosen and how it contrasted with the white sheets, “I mean you look pretty in anything, but that’s…” he trailed off seeing you push your legs up and outward to reveal your bare cunt to his eyes.

“What now honey?” you moaned, snaking a finger to open up the dress more and play with your pussy in front of him.

He immediately got down to the foot of the bed, moving his head to meet within inches of your fingers, marveling at the delicate touches you made on your lips.

“So… Pretty,” eyes growing wide as he watched your hole suck your fingers, begging to be fucked by him.

“I’m so wet for you, cowboy,” shoving three fingers in as far as they could go, feeling his hot breath ghosting your thighs while he sucked hickeys on them.

“I bet those fingers aren’t big enough for you, huh, butterfly,” squeezing a huge bruise on your left inner leg, the feeling making your head fall back as he did so.

“Not even close,” you gasped, feeling his thick hand pull yours from its spot, your cunt grasping at nothing as he marveled at your hole.

“Didn’t think so,” smirking as he sucked your digits dry, moaning at the taste of you.

“Daddy will take care of you, honey,” he cooed, blowing some air on your aching clit to watch your legs shudder from the breeze.

“I’m gonna suck this cunt until your cryin’,” spreading your folds open as he latched his vacuum suction on your bud, the cry you let out reverberating on the walls of the room as your hand found the back of his head, shoving his face further into your supple cunt.

“Mhmm,” he moaned, the vibration from his throat causing you to audibly scream as he assaulted your pussy. His other hand finding your hole as it sucked two fingers in deliciously, the squelch of your cunt making his dick harder and harder as he kept going.

“P-Phil!” literally crying as he ate you out like the animal he was, the feral noises under your slip sending you in hoards of pleasure and euphoria as he sucked your clit fervently.

Your thighs twitched and shook as he kept going and going, the grip on his head tightening as he felt your walls close in on his fingers in the best way. The damn broke then, letting out a stream of cum from your cunt as you cried endlessly on his movements.

“P-Phil holy s-shi-!” his suction breaking to open his mouth to the stream of spend that coated his face so beautifully.

“I fuckin’ told ya I’d make ya cry,” he growled, pulling himself up to meet your face, “you taste so goddamn delicious,” kissing you so hard the spend dribbled down your throat too, sending you into another stimulated haze as he rubbed his tip with your gaping entrance.

“You want daddy to fuck you?” lining himself up to watch you beg for his cock, your pretty moans and eyes signaling how badly you wanted him inside you.

“O-oh f-fuck,” your mouth falling open again as he buried himself in your sweet pussy, the warm feeling coating his cock in the best way.

“God d-dammit h-honey,” he managed to grit out, speeding up his movements after he had hooked your legs to meet his chest, pushing them towards you in a pretzeled fashion as his large frame loomed over your sweat-stained bodies.

“You’re s-so fuckin’,” he strained, the muscles in his neck along with their veins protruding in the sexiest way as he shoved himself into your guts more and more.

“Use y-your words c-cowboy,” you managed to choke out, feeling your second release creep up the more he pounded into your open womb.

“T-tell me what you w-want,” grabbing his inky locks that had since become soaked, his muscles taut as he plummeted further into you, your bodies becoming one as he breathed heavily and grunted with every stroke.

“G-god I l-love you Y/N,” he said, making searing eye contact as he watched your gorgeous face conjure in absolute pleasure underneath him. He could live in this moment forever. Get lost in your perfect screams and moans for him. The way you gripped his arms to pull him even further into you as he fucked your insides raw. He loved this. He loved you like this.

“I-I love y-you P-Phil,” you managed the words, feeling your release hit you like a freight train. The warmth of his cock gliding over your walls completely overwhelming your senses. The stars blinking behind your eyes as you melted into his body, your limbs releasing just enough for him to push your legs to meet the rest of your body and the mattress below.

“F-fuck,” he grunted out, feeling your body convulse under him, his grip above the bed frame tightening as he split you completely in half, your velvet cunt fluttering around him as he came closer and closer.

“I-I’m gonna fuck a b-baby into you h-honey,” the feral groan escaping his lips going straight to your cunt as you opened your eyes again. Your big mountain man, completely falling apart over you in a sweat-covered pile of muscle and brawn.

“Y-you want that?” egging him on as you pulled him closer, your foreheads touching as he came so close.

“Mhmm f-fuck yes,” he moaned, feeling you pulse around him, loving how he mewled for you, “I-I want you so f-full of me by this time n-next year I-I won’t be able to t-take my h-hands off you,” gritting his teeth so hard at this point.

You cunt fluttering as the sinking feeling in your lower stomach came from his words. The thought of being the way he imagined, full of him, making you want it so much more than you’d ever thought before.

“What are you waiting for daddy?” you moaned, feeling his dick harden even more as he came to the edge, “knock me the fuck up,” voice above a whisper as you stared into his eyes, seeing his release as he dumped his hot seed into your core.

“M-mother of G-God,” trying not to break eye contact as he filled you with him, the hot spend feeling so good as it coated your fertile walls to the brim.

He held you both there for a few moments, spurts of cum exiting his tip as he watched your gorgeous face smile back at him, petting him and egging his release on and on.

“Such a good daddy,” whispering to him while he caught his breath, kissing your hands as his dick softened in your pussy.

“I was serious,” he looked back at you, feeling him slip out of you in a gush of spend, only to be plugged by two fingers as he sat back on shins.

He grabbed a pillow, forcing it under your hips while his digits still were lodged in your cunt.

“You’re gonna be knocked up by next year,” the smile on your face a clear indication of how you felt about the premonition.

“I can’t wait,” a low chuckle leaving his chest as he removed his fingers, lowering himself over you to kiss your perfect lips, caressing your side, and then circling over your stomach to the point of it slightly tickling.

“I can’t either butterfly,” he whispered on your lips, kissing you again and again.

_______________________

SPOILER ALERT: SARA IS A WHORE AND THIS IS GONNA GET WORSE LMAO...

Taglist: @millenialcatlady, @maybe-your-left,@sacklerscumrag,@in-silks-and-flesh-and-leather, @hopeamarsu, @historyandfandoms50, @themuseic, @iamasithprincess, @mariesackler, @sister-winter73, @daydreamsofren, @sanchosammy, @lesbiandriver, @ghoulian13, @caillea, @safarigirlsp, @roanniom, @zimmermansbrat

Tags that aren’t working: @fictioninspires, @bringbackkylosolo

(Please let me know if you would love to be added/removed from the list... Love you all and thank you for supporting my absolute trash!)

#flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman x you #flip x you #flip x reader #kiss the sky #tw: somnophilia #tw: breeding kink #tw: daddy kink #tw: unprotected sex #tw: choking #flip zimmerman x female reader #flip zimmerman fluff #flip zimmerman smut #adcu fanfiction #adcu community #adcu

97 notes · View notes

jrcashwrites · 6 years ago

Text

Camping

Pairing: Flip Zimmerman x Female Reader

Warnings: Lemons ahoy!

A/N: Thank you always to lovely @ravenj84

“Finally getting out of here for a bit, Zimmerman?”

Chief Bridges raised an eyebrow as Flip placed the paperwork down onto his desk. Stepping back, the detective waited patiently as his boss scanned over his request.

“Thought I’d get out to Gunnison before the first snowfall.”

“Beautiful this time of year up there.” Chief Bridges commented as he stamped his seal of approval and handing the papers back over to him. “Enjoy yourself.”

Flip couldn’t help but feel a bit of excitement as he walked out of the station to his truck. He’d never taken anyone camping with him before, usually using his time off as a bit of solitude up in the mountains, far removed from case files and detective work for a weekend. If he was being honest with himself he’d never had anyone he’d ever wanted to ask to accompany him before.

You’d come in like a whirlwind, catching the detective off guard one night at the Red Lantern. Finally fulfilling a long standing promise to Ron and Patrice for an after work drink, Flip finally found the time to meet with his friends. He hadn’t expected for them to bring another along, finding you sitting in his usual spot in the back booth, forever altering his usual nightly routine of frozen dinners and reruns.

Making a quick stop at the grocery to pick up a six pack of Coors and a bottle of your favorite bourbon, he arrived at your apartment. Plopping himself down on your couch, Flip made himself comfortable as you switched off the television set and joined him.

“How’d you feel about a little weekend getaway?” Flip asked as popped the tab of his beer open with a hiss.

Leaning against his side, a vision of a weekend away on a white sand beach surrounded by palm trees with a shirtless detective lounging in a hammock next to you floated through your head

“Up to the mountains,” Flip added, causing any thoughts of the ocean to evaporate instantly from your mind’s eye. “Thought you’d might want to come camping with me?”

“Camping?” you questioned, sitting up on the couch a bit to look over at Flip.

Suddenly feeling nervous he’d even brought the idea up, Flip faltered. Maybe you weren’t the type that thought spending a weekend out in the woods as an idea of fun. Second guessing himself, he worried that maybe it was too soon altogether to ask you to go anywhere other than dinner or the movies.

“If that’s not something you like... I just thought…” he began to ramble, trying to redeem himself on his fumble.

“Flip,” you interrupted, immediately silencing the hulking ball of nerves beside you. “I’d actually really like to go camping with you.”

Breaking into a small smile, Flip felt a wave of relief come over him that you had agreed. He hated that he felt like such a blithering idiot half the time around you, always questioning why such a beautiful woman as yourself was hanging around the likes of him. Relaxing at your acceptance, he swung his arm back around you, allowing you to curl into his side again.

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

When Flip asked if you’d ever been camping before, you eagerly said yes, even if it had been a long while since you’d gone. Your family had taken you on summer road trips as a child; piling everyone into the nine passenger station wagon with a pop-up trailer hitched to the back and driving up north to a scenic state park. Your father and uncle would set up camp on the dirt plot, hooking the trailer up to the provided electrical outlets. A shower area and general store were just a short walk down the paved road, where you and your cousins would stock up on bags of marshmallows to roast later over a fire. It was hardly roughing it in the wilderness, but you’d always enjoyed it nonetheless.

Never once did Flip mention that his definition of camping did not provide any modern amenities.

As Flip turned onto the unpaved road, the rusty Chevy bumped along causing you to hold onto the dashboard as best you could. After a few miles of rough terrain knocking your head against the ceiling of the truck when he hit a particularly deep divot in the road, he finally slowed to a stop, parking alongside a row of pines.

“Ready, sweetheart? It’s about a mile out to the lake from here.”

“A mile?” you blurted, staring at Flip as if he’d suddenly grown a second head. “What I wouldn’t give for an ATV right about now.”

You muttered the last bit to yourself, but pretty sure you heard the soft rumbling of Flip’s laughter at your admission.

Trusting that Flip knew what he was doing, you hopped down from the Chevy, grabbing your backpack from the bed and swinging it over your shoulder. Flip gathered the rest of the items from the truck. Crossing the dusty road, you set off into the woods.

Flip made the trek seem easy, leading the way through what seemed to be an endless sprawl of forest. A few steps behind, you wondered how he was barely breaking a sweat even though he was carrying twice as much gear as you were. Flip was clearly in his element and you couldn’t help but admire how good he looked; plaid shirt rolled up to his elbows and rifle strapped to his shoulder.

“Where exactly are we going?” you questioned, catching up to Flip’s side as the trail finally widened enough to allow you to walk comfortably beside him.

“It’s gonna be worth it, trust me.”

“It’d better be,” you hummed, adjusting your backpack straps on your shoulders.

“This is what I get for taking a city girl out in nature,” Flip joked playfully as he brushed a bit of stray hair out of your face that had worked itself loose along the way.

“Shush you,” you playfully nudged Flip’s arm. “There’s not as much city in me as you’d like to believe and besides, I wouldn’t want the mountain man I have with me to feel useless.”

“Is he cute?”

“Oh, very much so.”

The rest of the hike, Flip pointed out various things to you in the wilderness as you walked along. A rare black squirrel scampering up the side of a tree, the name of a distant bird that called out. Impressed with his knowledge, you hardly noticed the final ascent as you listened to him rattle off a list of things about the area with confidence. He clearly knew it well, which hardly surprised you. He’d grown up here, this was practically his backyard, even though it seemed like the farthest reaches of the earth to you.

The trees began to thin out as you reached the top of the hill, a large lake spanning out along with a breathtaking view.

“Worth the hike?”

Pausing, you took in your new surroundings. You had never quite seen anything like it before. The lake glittered a deep blue in the sunlight, seeming to reach on forever. Mountains sloped up from either side of it’s banks, rolling off into the distance as far as the eye could see.

“It’s beautiful,” you commented, still in awe that such a spot existed.

“Good. Cause this is our home away from home for the next few days.”

Flip dropped his pack from his shoulders, leaning his rifle against a nearby tree. Pacing a few times across the area, he determined the flattest spot for the tent, digging the item from his backpack and unfurling it on the ground. Making quick work in a matter of minutes, it was set up, followed by a small fire pit.

“We’re going to need some firewood,” Flip noted, as he wiped his forehead with the back of his sleeve.

Joining him in the nearby woods, you soon had an armful of fallen sticks and a few larger logs. Not being completely inept, you returned to the campsite, stacking them into the fire pit in the teepee shape your father had taught you long ago that would sustain the best fire. Tucking some dried leaves and kindling around the base, you struck a match, stepping back as the fire caught, quickly spreading to the larger logs.

Flip couldn’t help to smile as he returned, a stack of logs of his own in his arms, at you sitting near the fire. Dropping the firewood to the ground near the fire pit, he kissed the top of your head.

“Not bad for a city girl.”

“I told you I wasn’t completely helpless.”

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

Daylight was already fading from the sky, casting hues of soft pinks and oranges over the still waters of the lake. The fire cracked and popped, burning strong and casting a warm light over the campsite. You helped Flip prepare dinner, adding spices to the cast iron pot he’d rigged over the fire as he stirred the ingredients to a simple, yet delicious meal. Laying out a blanket, he joined you as you sat down, warm bowl in hand.

You could get used to this, you thought as darkness fell around you. The first few stars began to twinkle in the inky black sky above. After cleaning up the dishes and packing them back away, Flip joined you near the fire. As it began to burn low in the small pit Flip had dug out to contain it, you noticed how quiet the woods were at night. Gone were the tweets of birds and rustling of forest animals through the underbrush. Your ears rang for a moment, unused to such silence. It was peaceful, yet eerie all at once, to be in such a secluded place. Pulling the over-sized flannel Flip had leant you closer around yourself, you shivered slightly in the cool night air. Leaning back against Flip, he wrapped his arms around you.

“Cold?” Flip asked, pulling you closer to his body from where you sat between his long legs.

“Just a little.” you admitted. Between the hike and the warmth of the sun, you had been almost too warm all day. As night fell, you realized you may have underestimated how quickly the temperature would drop at a higher elevation.

“Think I could warm you up a little,” he purred into your ear, nipping at your lobe.

“You think so?” you hummed back, tilting your head back to look up at him.

“I do.”

Catching you with a kiss, you wiggled a bit in Flip’s arms to turn yourself in his grasp. Straddling him, he let out a low moan as you settled yourself on his lap. He tasted of the spice from dinner, mingled with the tobacco from his last cigarette. Deepening the kiss, you ran your fingers through his hair, rocking your hips against him.

“Careful, sweetheart,” Flip warned as you twirled the long strands of his hair at the base of his neck.

“Mmm, why’s that?” you cooed. “Am I going to get myself in trouble?”

“There’s no one out here to hear me making you scream.”

More than once, your neighbors had pounded on the wall, warning you and Flip to quiet down. The apartment walls did little to contain the noise, much to their dismay. It took all of your willpower not to laugh the next day when Ms. Paterson from next door warned you that “next time I hear such a racket in the middle of the night, I’m calling the police.” Little did she know that it was law enforcement between your legs that was the cause for such a ruckus.

“I’d like to see you try,” you challenged Flip, rocking your hips once more against him for good measure. You could already feel he was hard, straining against his jeans. “Make me scream your name.”

Letting out a strangled sound, Flip moved you from his lap, turning you on to your back. Hovering above you, Flip ghosted his hands over your chest, palming at your breasts over the flannel. Diving towards your neck, he pressed his lips against you, nipping and sucking against your skin.

Flip hummed between kisses. “You are in so much trouble.”

“Have I been bad, officer?” you murmured as your back arched from the blanket and Flip pressed a line of kisses along your collarbone.

“Fuck,” Flip groaned as he struggled to undo the buttons to your shirt. He desperately needed to feel the softness of your skin against his palm.

A low giggle escaped you, knowing that pushed Flip over the edge. Feeling his hand trail down your stomach he dipped between your legs. Pressing against your center, you took a deep breath as Flip rubbed his hand over the fabric of your pants. While it felt good, you needed more. Reaching down, you unbuttoned the top of your jeans, Flip’s fingers quick to join, pushing the fabric down your legs.

Feeling the cold night air hit against your wet center, you stiffened for a second at the sensation. Flip wasted no time in pressing a warm finger against you, teasing you slowly as he circled your folds before dipping inside. Grasping his shoulders, you exhaled as he began working in and out of you at a torturous pace, adding a second and then a third. Goosebumps prickled against your skin, the mixture of pleasure and the chill of the mountain air cascading over you. Flip continued, pumping his hand rhythmically as you squeezed your eyes shut. You were lost in the feeling, his thick fingers working you as his thumb circled your clit. Nearly there you were teetering on edge when the loss of contact made your eyes fly open and suck in a deep breath, as Flip pulled his hand away.

“Think I was going to let you come that easily?” Flip smirked, before bringing his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean with a pop.

Giving Flip a sly smile, you grabbed onto the collar of his shirt, pulling him close. Teasing him, you licked a stripe up the side of his neck. Salty and sweet, you relished the taste of him. Biting his neck, he let out a low groan. You were easily going to be the death of him and he wasn’t complaining in the slightest that this was how he was going to go.

“Are you going to cuff me, officer? you teased, letting go of Flip’s shirt to stretch your arms above you. “Wouldn’t want me to get away now would you?”

Pinning your wrists in his grasp, Flip held you steady with his large hand. “I’m off duty, sweetheart. Plus there’s no headboard to cuff you to.”

“But sir,” you mockingly protest, playing into Flip’s current conundrum. “I’m sure you could find some way to restrain me.”

Ever the quick thinking boy scout, Flip pushed the flannel shirt from your shoulders, making quick work of knotting the fabric tightly around your wrists. Satisfied with his handiwork, Flip ran his hand down your chest, delighting in how your body arched into his touch, begging for more.

Fumbling with his belt buckle, Flip wasn’t sure he still had the necessary motor skills left to work the leather free from his waist. Managing to get it undone, he unzipped his pants, taking himself out in his palm. Pumping himself a few times, his hand felt useless, especially as you were splayed out before him, legs parted, waiting eagerly for him to sink into you. Lining up to your entrance, Flip could barely breathe as he slipped into you. He would never grow tired of the soft exhale you made as he sunk deeper into you, steadying his hands against the blanket, careful not to crush you with his weight as he began to move.

Soon finding a rhythm, Flip rocked against you, driving deep as your hips snapped to meet each of his thrusts.

“Let me hear you,” Flip encouraged. “Be a good girl for me.”

Struggling against the fabric bonds, tight around your wrists, you tried to wiggle free but to no avail. The sensation of restriction only added to your pleasure as the flannel dug against your skin. You cried out into the night as Flip thrust into you.

“Fuck! Flip, please!”

“Please what?” he asked, his voice low and thick.

“Please,” you begged. “Please fuck me harder.”

“Careful what you wish for sweetheart.”

Withdrawing from you, Flip grasped your hips, flipping you to your knees. Faltering for a second, you steadied yourself as best you could on your bound wrists. Feeling his weight against your back, Flip reached around you, tearing the knotted shirt free allowing your hands to plant flat against the blanket.

“You look fucking beautiful like this,” Flip confessed, taking in the sight of you bent before him, your thighs slick with your arousal dripping from your center.

Giving your ass a firm slap, Flip let out a growl as he dove towards you, licking a long stripe against you with his tongue. Shuddering, your fingers grasped the blanket, desperately trying to hold onto anything that would ground you as Flip continued to lap at you. As he circled his tongue, you let out a cry, unable to contain the sounds you were so used to keeping quiet. Continuing on, Flip worked you until you were trembling, on the brink of collapsing, your arms weak from holding yourself up.

Pulling back from you, Flip’s chin glistened in the pale moonlight that blanketed your surroundings. Hardly fazed by the mess, Flip took hold of your hips once again, guiding you back as he pushed into you.

“Flip!” you moaned as his cock sunk deep within you. Wrapping an arm around your middle, he leaned down against your back, pulling you close as he rocked back and forth in time with your movements against him.

“Such a good, good girl for me,” Flip murmured, his voice deep as his pressed his lips against your cheek. “Just like that darling,” he encouraged.

#flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman x female reader #flip zimmerman/reader #flip Zimmerman x you #flip zimmerman #one shot #flip zimmerman/female reader #flip zimmerman/you #reader insert #Female reader #reader #lemon #lemons ahead

163 notes · View notes

reevesdriver · 6 years ago

Text

2. I’ve Been Digging Deeper but the Memories Won’t Stop

Word count: 493

Character(s): Flip Zimmerman

Reader: Female reader

Warning(s): None.

| Part 1 | Part 3 |

In all the time that had passed Flip never stepped into the diner and neither did any of his colleagues until now, Ron opened the door and took a seat at one of the small tables in the corner of the room. You didn’t know him that well but you knew that him and Flip were good friends, you could even say that they were best friends since they got along so well.

The Diner was quiet today so you took your time cleaning one of the empty tables before grabbing your notepad and pen and moving over to speak to Ron.

“What can I get you today?”

“Can I just have a coffee please.”

“Sure, anything else?”

“I need to talk to you about something.”

“Is it about Flip?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t want to talk about him Ron.” You say turning to walk away.

“Please, just a few minutes of your time that’s all I’m asking.”

You sigh and look around the room. “Fine, let me make your coffee and then we can talk.”

“Thanks Y/N.”

You quickly made Ron his drink and brought it over to the table taking a seat across from him as he pulled the mug into his hands.

“Did Flip ask you to come and talk on his behalf?”

“No, I wanted to talk to you, he doesn’t know I’m here.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Great, so what’s up?”

“He’s a mess without you Y/N, he knows that he fucked up but he wants to try again.”

“I don’t think I can.”

“Please, he loves you and it’s taring him apart.”

“That’s the thing though Ron, he told me that when he was drunk but was gone in the morning and then he slept with someone else a day or so later. He never wanted to make it official between us and wouldn’t even acknowledge me when we were out together, so why should I give him another chance?”

“Because I can tell by the way that you would look at him that you love him too, and I can tell by the tears in your eyes that you want to try and make it work with him but you can’t bring yourself to say it. I’m not telling you to try and get with him I just want you to consider sitting down with him and talking about what happened.”

You sat taking in everything that Ron had to say and wiped the tears that had started to form in your eyes. “I’ll think about it, thank you for letting me know. I’m sure he’ll tell you how it goes.”

“Thank you Y/N. It’s his day off tomorrow, might be best for you to go and speak to him then.” He responds and you nod.

Ron stands from the chair and gives you a quick hug before exiting the diner leaving you with your thoughts as you start to serve customers again.

(Tagged: @bellaren18)

#mywriting #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman x female reader #flip zimmerman imagine #female reader #reader insert #series #thinking 'bout you

81 notes · View notes

mrs-gucci · 1 year ago

Text

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.

****

the fic-or-treat taglist is currently empty!

>> to join the fic-or-treat taglist, you have to send a message to my inbox!! your username must be included in some form. I will not accept tag requests that don't come through my inbox. <<

242 notes · View notes

finn-ray-nal-beads · 4 years ago

Text

Kiss The Sky

Summary: The year is 1969, and Y/N is a free lovin’ hippy just living her life and standing up for her freedoms. Your paths cross with Flip Zimmerman in the form of a few small misdemeanor arrests and meet-ups between your friends Ron and Patrice. Flip is exactly the person you stand against in your cause. All the while, Flip, as rigid and set in his ways, may need someone just like you to loosen his negative views on the world. Do opposites attract? Find out in Kiss The Sky

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

#flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman x you #kiss the sky #flip zimmerman smut #flip zimmerman fluff #flip x you #flip zimmerman x female reader #flip zimmerman fanfic #flip zimmerman fanfiction #adcu fan fiction #adcu #adcu community #finn raynal-beads #my writing

115 notes · View notes

jrcashwrites · 6 years ago

Text

Flip Zimmerman Headcanons

Get enough Coors in him and he will dance. Ron was shocked when one late night at the Red Lantern, Flip and Patrice danced their way down the soul train line and Flip had moves, goddamn! The next morning Flip refused to acknowledge he ever did such a thing and it was never spoken about again, but Ron made sure the whole station knew about it.

Flip likes watching sports. He’s not a die-hard fan, but on the rare lazy Sunday he isn’t working, he’ll watch the Broncos. Sometimes the guys around the station will have a game on the radio and he’ll half pay attention as he works. As a kid, he was an avid baseball card collector and still has most of them shoved in his closet in a shoe box.

Flip is the very definition of a perpetual bachelor. Between his work hours and frankly not caring, his tiny apartment is a mess (dirty dishes, filled ashtray, piles of laundry tossed onto the couch). He never makes his bed. He does take out the trash on a regular basis, he doesn’t aim to be completely disgusting. His truck is much the same with discarded papers and snack wrappers covering the front seat. Flip is the type of person where even though it may look a mess, he knows where everything is if asked.

The Star of David necklace he wears was a family heirloom from his grandmother. Always wears it not as a profession of his faith but as a keepsake and in memory of her. Flip had a rather rough relationship with his father, especially during his teenage years, and his grandmother would always hear him out if he needed someone to talk to, something he rarely opened up about with anyone else.

Earned his nickname “Flip” in the police academy. He always thought Phillip was too proper anyways and got off easy considering the other cadets were calling him “Ears” for the first few weeks.

Goes camping in the mountains once a year by himself. He doesn’t get a chance to be a true mountain man often, but he’ll drive his truck up to a secluded spot and hike out for a day or two. It gives him a chance to clear his mind and not think about cases for a bit. Packs only what he needs: a tent, gun, knife and other basic things. Growing up in Colorado, he learned about wilderness survival early on and spent a few summers as a kid at boy scout camp. He thinks about one day owning a cabin way out in the middle of nowhere, nothing fancy, but a little place with a wood burning stove he could live off the land in.

Wishes he could own a dog- a big shepherd or husky- but works too much to properly care for a pet.

Likes bands like Led Zeppelin, Rolling Stones, Boston, Creedence Clearwater Revival, Rush and the Allman Brothers. Sometimes he chills out by having a beer and listening to records but doesn’t seek out new music or purchase it very often. He’s got his favorites and sticks with those. Knows a few guitar chords and basic songs, but doesn’t own an instrument of his own.

NSFW under the cut

Jerks it a lot, but doesn’t often get the real thing. Has the occasional hookup, but those are few and far between and never turn into anything more than a one night stand. Usually does it in the shower or on his couch and he’s got a select few magazines he enjoys. Sometimes will use his imagination, but he’s never very creative with his fantasies. Once you come into his life, things change for him and he wonders how he lasted so long without getting some on the regular.

Flip isn’t sure what to think when you first ask him to bring his handcuffs to bed with him. To him, those are tools of his job, yet he knows exactly what you want him to do with them, so he doesn’t say no. Once he has you cuffed to the headboard, spread out for him, begging for his touch, he swears to himself that he will never not come home without his cuffs again. Hell, he might even order another pair just to keep at home.

Flip is a master of dirty talk, especially if he’s been drinking. The filthiest things come out of his mouth. He loves asking you how his cock feels, praising your pussy, eliciting you to return his talk with equal, if not filthier, things of your own. He loves making you beg for him, pleading for him that you need more of him, even if you are already shaking and a complete mess. It’s Flip’s goal to absolutely ruin you every chance he gets. Even if he may call you his little whore or slut in bed, he treats you like an absolute queen outside of the bedroom and would never actually degrade you in any way.

Is hesitant at first of role playing, especially since his partner automatically goes to a cop role for him. Gets into it the second you utter “I’ve been bad, officer.” “I’m going to have to take you in.” he replies, bending you over on the bed and cuffing your wrists behind your back. From then on, he was perfectly fine being a good cop during the day and a bad cop once he got home to you.

Flip loves eating his partner out. He can’t get enough and will make absolute mess out of you, himself as well. Even when you are doing the most mundane of things, such as cooking breakfast, he’ll switch off the stove, pick you up, set you on the table and dive between your legs. “You’re better than pancakes anyways.” “Are you saying my pancakes aren’t good?” “No, not at all, you just taste better.”

Flip was always a fan of receiving as well, but never more than the time he was out doing a stakeout and nothing had happened for hours. He was bored and restless and was about to give up when you showed up, slipping into his vehicle on the passenger side. He barely got two words out before you were taking him into your mouth.

Flip often gets stuck at the station late at night alone working on cases. While he enjoys the peace and quiet, he would much rather be at home now that he has someone to go home to. He is surprised when the phone rings one night past midnight, your voice on the other end. At first he’s concerned something had happened, but you instantly turn the conversation to something else. Flip jerks off at his desk as he listens to you on the other end of the line and from then on, any time he’s stuck working late, makes sure to call you.

All the love to @ravenj84 for being the most wonderful person to bounce ideas off of.

#flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman headcanons #blackkklansman #Headcanon #headcanons #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman x you #flip zimmerman x female reader #flip zimmerman/reader #flip zimmerman/you #flip zimmerman/female reader #its 7am editing is for the birds

231 notes · View notes

reevesdriver · 6 years ago

Text

1. I’ve Been Working Later, I’ve Been Drinking Stronger

Word count: 510

Character(s): Flip Zimmerman

Reader: Female reader

Warning(s): None.

Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PLDIhqMWH00

| Part 2 | Part 3 |

(AN: This is the second series to New Rules. Continuing on with another Dua Lipa song)

A few hours had passed since you last spoke to Flip, those hours grew into days and eventually it had been a full week since you’d seen him. You started to work longer hours at the Diner to try and keep your thoughts off him but every now and then your mind wandered to the little things he used to do.

You cleared a table in the corner of the Diner and frowned when you remembered that it was the table Flip sat at when you first met him, you’d served him and his work friends and when you collected the bill after they all left you saw that he’d left his number as well as a generous tip for you.

Flip hadn’t been the same since you walked out of his life, he didn’t want to go out anymore and he tried not to let it bother him at work but it was difficult when your diner was right across the street. Ron would sit at his desk watching his friend glance out the window and over to the Diner where you worked and he knew that he needed to do something to help out.

When Flip got home it was the same old routine, he’d take his shoes off and sit down in front of the TV with a few bottles next to him and would drink as he flicked through the channels. Sometimes he’d stop and look at the phone and contemplate whether or not to call you but decided against it since he’d only make things worse.

He thought back to all the times you’d spent together and realised how badly he’d treated you, you were right about everything. He never made it official because he didn’t think you’d leave him, he was so blind to his own desires that he chose to ignore yours and when women threw themselves at him he felt proud of himself only to be hit by guilt afterwards. He didn’t want any other woman, for them it was just sex but you were the only person who cared deeply about him and he threw it all away for a chance with someone who meant nothing to him.

Ron tried to help Flip take his mind off you by presenting him with a new case but nothing was helping. Flip stood from his desk with a sign and moved into the break room throwing himself down on the sofa as Ron followed him taking a seat opposite him.

“I don’t know what to do Ron.”

“Is this about Y/N?”

“Yeah.”

“What happened?”

“I’ve ruined everything with. I fucked up so bad.”

“Why don’t you go and talk to her?”

“She doesn’t want to talk to me.”

Ron sighed and knew that the only way he could get the both of you talking again was if he came and spoke to you first so at the end of the day he packed all his things up and stuffed them into the back of his car before heading over to the diner.

(Tagged: @bellaren18)

#mywriting #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman x female reader #female reader #reader insert #series #thinking 'bout you

62 notes · View notes

mrs-gucci · 1 year ago

Text

The Prank

{ flip zimmerman x female reader }

anon

Flip being an idiot and scaring you to get in the spooky mood! Or vice versa! Please and thank you

I kind of took this in a little bit of a different direction, it's not super duper spooky per se, but I love the idea I came up with and I hope you love it too!

warnings. FLUFF, very light sexual stuff, scaring/pranking, flip getting all grumpy, lingerie wearing, a kiss n' make up situation.

word count: 1.2k

★ written for sextember 2023 ★

Flip, being a seasoned police detective, is a very hard man to scare. You're always trying to jumpscare him, but it never works, and it frustrates the hell out of you because he's constantly jumpscaring you. You just wanna get him really good one time, really scare him, and you've finally come up with the perfect plan to do it.

When you told Ron your idea, he was immediately eager to help you out, agreeing to do whatever needed to scare the living daylights out of Flip.

So when Flip calls and tells you he's on his way home, you quickly get your lingerie on and do your hair and makeup all nice. You really need to have Flip completely focused on you and get his guard down so Ron can do his thing.

You're buzzing with excitement as you head downstairs in your pretty set, one of his favorites, and make a quick call to Ron to confirm the plan. Then, you settle on the couch and put yourself on display as best you can while you wait for Flip to come home.

"Princess? I'm home!" he calls through the house as he normally does, pulling off his boots and putting out his cigarette in the ashtray by the door. "Baby, where--"

He turns the corner and finds you on the couch, all laid out in one of his favorite lingerie sets. He hums, pausing and leaning against the archway of the living room.

"What's all this for?"

"What, can't a lady dress up for her handsome, hardworking man every once and a while? Keep things spicy?"

Flip chuckles and walks over to you. "Hey, I never said I was complaining. Just didn't know if we were supposed to be celebrating anything, maybe one of those bullshit holidays we always use as an excuse to have sex, like fuckin' national laugh day or whatever."

"Oh my god," you chuckle. "We should really stop doing that, we really don't need any more excuses to have sex."

"Mm, you have a point," Flip hums, smiling as he pulls you to your feet and kisses you deeply. "But you have to admit, we've had some, mm, pretty great holiday celebrations."

You smile against his lips, nodding. "Yeah, we have."

Meanwhile, outside, Ron pulls into the driveway with his headlights off and takes it slow, not wanting to alert his partner to his arrival. He grabs his cuffs and sneaks around to one of the living room windows, staying low as he taps the metal cuff against the window.

Flip's head turns immediately in the direction of the sound, eyebrows furrowed.

"Did you hear that?"

You look up at him, pretending to be confused.

"Hear what, baby?"

"There was a tapping noise."

"I didn't hear it," you say, turning his head back to you and kissing him again. "It was probably just the icebox again, you know how it makes those weird sounds sometimes."

Flip's instincts were telling him there's something going on, but he chooses to ignore them in favor of kissing you some more. He hums, hands on your hips, squeezing them firmly.

"You look so beautiful, princess," he says against your lips, pushing you gently back down onto the couch. "I--"

Ron scratches along the window with his nails and Flip's head whips over again, walking towards the window.

"What the fuck is going on?" he says, looking through the window. "I swear to god someone's outside tapping the window. You're not hearing it?"

"No, baby, I have no idea what you're talking about. I didn't hear anything."

He huffs, then walks back over to you and lays down on top of you, kissing you again as he presses himself against you.

Ron grins and moves to the other window, then knocks quickly, squatting down in the darkness to hide in case Flip looks out the window.

"Alright now, this is getting fucking ridiculous. Either I'm crazy or you're going deaf, because that was very noticeable."

Flip huffs, making a move to get off you and walk over to the window. You hold his shirt and keep him on you, kissing his neck.

"Baby, don't get up again. It's okay, it's probably one of the neighborhood cats. I need you, Flip, please stay here..."

His jaw clenches, but he starts kissing you again. You left the back screen open for Ron so he can enter quietly, and you subtly keep a lookout for him as Flip starts to nibble at your neck.

Ron comes around the corner and you hum, smiling softly and winking at him. He grins, standing in silence for a moment before making his presence known by using his deep, serious shouting voice.

"ZIMMERMAN!"

Flip startles and tries to turn around but falls off the couch with a soft grunt. You burst into laughter and Ron joins in as Flip processes what just happened.

"What the fuck?!"

"Oh my god, that was amazing," you breathe, laughing hysterically. "We got you so good."

You give Ron a high five as Flip stands back up with a huff, crossing his arms.

"You guys fucking suck," he says bitterly. "Why would you do that?"

"Revenge, of course. You're always scaring me but I can never scare you. So I wanted to get you back for all those times."

“Well this was so much worse than anything I’ve ever done to you,” he says. “We were about to…that was just mean.”

You can tell that he’s actually getting upset over this, and you quickly wrap up the conversation with Ron. He can sense it too and heads out after a few more minutes, leaving you and Flip alone.

He walks over and grabs a beer from the fridge, opens it up, then takes a long sip. You sigh, getting up from the couch and walking to him, wrapping your arms around him from behind as he lights a cigarette.

“Baby, it was a little prank. Just for a little fun.”

“It wasn’t fun for me. I actually thought something was going on outside and I was getting worried. And the fact that you got all dressed up just to scare me…it was just shitty.”

You step around and give him a kiss on the cheek, then another, and another.

“Flip, baby, I’m sorry,” you say, pouting. “Please forgive me.”

He huffs. “I’m not happy with you right now.”

Your lips continue to press kisses all over his face, jaw and neck.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” you say with each peck. “I’m really sorry, baby.”

As much as he’s upset, your kisses and apologies are definitely chipping away at his hardened defenses.

His hand slips onto the small of your back but he still doesn’t look at you, hoping you’ll keep going but understand that he’s really not that upset without him having to say it.

You definitely understand it, and you smile slightly, but continue to kiss him until you finally press a kiss to his lips.

“Please forgive me?”

He looks at you, then, and smiles ever so slightly as he holds you close.

“You’re not gonna quit, are you?”

You shake your head with a smile, kissing him some more. "Nope, not until you forgive me."

"Alright, alright," Flip sighs, running his hand down to give your ass a firm squeeze. He smiles, then kisses you. "You're lucky I love you so damn much."

****

sextember taglist: @rynwritesstuff @safarigirlsp @babbushka @mrs-zimmerman

if you'd like to be tagged in future sextember works, please let me know via comment on this post or the original sextember post!

#mrs gucci's sextember #adcu #adam driver #adam driver character #adcu fanfiction #adam driver fanfiction #adcu fanfic #adcu community #adcu fic #adam driver fluff #adcu fluff #flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman fluff #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman x you

156 notes · View notes

iwishtobeastorm · 3 years ago

Text

Hi there! Welcome to my masterlist 🤍

Okay, so I kind of felt like my old masterlist was getting a bit messy, so I made a new one, that might help you find what you’re looking for much easier! Go ahead!

Warnings - my fics will eventually turn 18+, so please respect that - minors don’t interact! Come back when you’re 18, this work will still be here, I promise.

✦ Tag list

✦ AO3

* = includes explicit content

Adam Driver CU fics

Kylo Ren

Au clair de lune* (Canon divergent AU - Kylo Ren/Innocent!F!Reader)

You’re a stormtrooper, serving as a guard of Supreme Leader’s quarters. You cherish the man ever since you’ve met him for the first time and your admiration soon grows into more. Then an opportunity of your lifetime rises in front of you and you decide to take it, but only Gods know if you have a chance to succeed and secure brighter future for yourself.

Oneshots

Now or never

Flip Zimmerman

No escape* (Canon divergent AU - Dark!Flip Zimmerman/Chubby!F!Reader)

You find yourself lost in the middle of a snow storm. You stumble upon a cabin in the middle of the woods and it’s owner offers you help. Little do you know that your savior might be more dangerous than the cruel weather of the mountains.

Oneshots

Crossing the line*

Adam Sackler

Just my type* (Roommates AU - Adam Sackler/Virgin!Chubby!F!Reader)

You’re a college student and you find yourself sharing an apartment with no one else than our favorite boy, Adam Sackler. He’s everything you’ve ever dreamed of and more, but is there any chance he could feel the same?

Oneshots

Dance-off

I do adore you

Clyde Logan

Eau froide (AU - Clyde Logan/Mermaid!F!Reader)

Clyde found his favorite place in the world a long time ago. What he didn’t know is, that the lake hides something he wouldn’t even dream of. And that little something is you.

Oneshots

Late nights*

Paterson

Oneshots:

Home*

Charlie Barber

Oneshots:

Priority

Underneath the mistletoe

Only you

Pedro Pascal CU fics

Din Djarin

Cyar’ika* (Gladiator!Din Djarin/Female!Reader)

What happens when you, a slave, fall in love with Corusant’s favorite gladiator?

Cabur* (Alpha!Din Djarin/F!Omega!Reader)

Short series about how you find out your true mate is a quiet Mandalorian bounty hunter with the cutest green child.

Oneshots

Feathers

Forever

The relief

Cor unum

Frankie Morales

Oneshots

The most dangerous thing

The real beauty*

Study in red

Javier Peña

Oneshots

Hearts on fire

MCU fics

Natasha Romanova

Oneshots

Mommy’s dearest* (Mommy!Natasha/Chubby!F!Reader) Mommy comes home to you, her little, and rewards you for being a good girl.

Kate Bishop

Oneshots

In your arms | Your vigilante (kind of a next chapter)

Other characters fics

Will Miller

Body and soul* (Alpha!Will Miller/Plus-size!Omega!Reader) You and Will are together for a while, when something unplanned comes your way. Aka 3 chapters long series about how the two of you become parents. Warnings? Cuteness overload!

Oneshots

The big problem

Strawberry ice cream

Benny Miller

You were the right one (Alpha!Benny Miller/Omega!F!Reader) Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 Short series about how you find out that the friend of a friend is your true mate in the most inappropriate moment. Things might get spicy later *winks*

Oneshots

The happy ending

197 notes · View notes

autumnleaves1991-blog · 3 years ago

Note

hey, if requests are open i was wondering if you could write something i’ve been thinking about for a while now

flip zimmerman, and a rookie (with a massive crush on flip) are in his truck, driving back from a job pretty far from the station in a complete white out blizzard. it’s too risky to keep driving because all you can see is white, so they have to pull over and wait the storm out. because they’re pretty far from the station, and don’t know if they’ll have enough gas to keep the truck running for the duration of the storm AND drive to back to the station, they have to turn the truck off while degrees are progressively dropping. eventually after a while of flip & the rookie try to preserve warmth individually, they notice the storm is somehow getting worse and beating down against the truck, they awkwardly hop in the back and huddle under a blanket to try to stay warm. a couple hours of tight cuddling goes by, resulting in a heated (sorry) make out.

sorry if this is a lot, thanks

A/N: It's finally done. I'm so sorry it took so long. I struggled with writing it but I'm happy with how it turned out.

Pairing: Flip Zimmerman x F! Reader

Warnings: 18 + for language, making out, and implied smut.

The truck’s interior was silent, but not the uncomfortable sort of silence; in fact, it was relaxing if one could be relaxed while being next to the most handsome man alive. Actually, forget everything you said or thought; this ride was anything but relaxing. Your hands flex every couple of minutes against the denim of your jeans. The snow pelts the windshield like a scene from Star Trek, right when they are about to warp into a crisis. You could relate because your whole body was in crisis mode from being so close to Detective Flip Zimmerman.

It was rough being a rookie on the force, but it was even more difficult being a woman. Flip and the boys had taken you under their wing almost immediately, and you hated to be the stereotype but you feel hopelessly head over heels for him. The handsome, brooding detective, and the rookie, feel like something out of those dime store novels your best friend is always mailing you after she’s finished reading them.

“Storms getting worse,” he sighs loudly beside you, “we might need to find a place to pull over, wait it out.” He fiddles his hand with the radio, but all the station’s playback is static. “Keep your eyes open for somewhere to turn off.”

“Sure,” you whisper, finally something to occupy your mind. But when another thirty minutes pass, the truck almost crawling with the limited visibility, Flip turns the signal and pulls off to the shoulder.

“We’re pretty rural out here,” he leans forward, trying to see out the windshield. Working back and forth at a furious pace, the wipers do little to alleviate the snow. “I think we should turn off the truck and wait it out. I got a couple of extra blankets in the back, bundle up; it’s gonna get a little cold.”

“You just carry around blankets in your truck?”

He glances at you like you’ve grown a second head, “did you forget we’re in Colorado, rookie? It snows here; best to be prepared; write that down in your little journal.” You frown but pull out the said journal from your pocket; you started carrying it around about a month after joining, keeping notes and different tips and tricks from the job. The guys at the station loved to tease you about it, but you didn’t care. One day you would remember something because it was written down in your little journal and they would be sitting ducks.

You replace the cap on your pen and tuck it back into your pocket, zipping up your jacket the rest of the way. You turn and are struck when you notice Flip looking at you, a strange look on his face. “What?” you mumble, “You gonna tease me about my journal some more?”

He shakes his head and glances down with a smile, “no, no, I actually think it’s smart. I just worry about the day when you won’t need it anymore.”

“Why is that?” you huff, “because I won’t be a rookie anymore?”

“No,” he chuckles and glances out the driver’s side window, “because then I can’t watch you, get all pissed about your little book. You’re cute when you’re mad.” You say nothing, overwhelmed with feelings that Detective Flip Zimmerman just teased you and called you cute in the same breath. “What are you thinking?” he zips up his coat and turns to look at you, “I can almost see the smoke churning out your ears, so tell me. What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?”

“I thought you didn’t like me? And now you’ve called me cute and beautiful while simultaneously insulting me at the same time. It’s confusing.”

He sits in silence for another ten minutes, almost marinating over your words. The temperature in the truck steadily dropped with each tick of his watch. You wrap the plaid blanket tighter around your shoulders, your teeth beginning to chatter, but you refuse to complain, not wanting to give the guys at the station any more ammo to use against you. “Come here,” he mumbles, lifting his blanket, and you turn your head with a sharp shake. “Rookie, I can hear your teeth chattering for here; get over here before you freeze to death.”

You sigh, unbuckling your seat belt and scooting across to his side of the truck; you let out a squeal when he lifts you and places you in his lap, legs across the center console. He tucks your head beneath his chin and wraps his blanket around the tool of you. He’s so warm, and you can’t help but move closer, trying to burrow yourself in that warmth.

Your hips rock, trying to get closer, and he lets out a muffled groan, “stop moving, rookie.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, freezing.

“Captain would kill me, I let anything happen to you, especially after I…” he mumbles off the ending, and you lift your head off his chest. Swallowing down your gasp when you realize how close he is, his nose almost brushing against your own.

You take a minute to compose yourself, “after you what?”

“Nothing,” he replies quickly, looking back out the window, “just forget it.”

“No,” your hand trembles, but you reach up and gently touch his cheek, turning him back to you, “tell me what you were going to say.”

His eyes soften, and he raises a hand to keep yours pressed to his cheek, “I asked the Captain to put us together.”

“Why?”

“Because,” he sighs, “because I like you. You’re smart, beautiful, and funny. I’ve been trying to think of a way to ask you out for weeks, but I didn’t want you to think…I didn’t want you to think that I don’t respect you. Being a woman on the force, it isn’t easy. I’ve seen the guys flirt with you all the time, and it makes my blood fucking boil. Because you are so much more than a gorgeous woman in a uniform. You’re a police officer, a damn promising detective…”

You cut off his rambling with the lips pressed softly to his own. His nose brushes against your cheek and he groans, tugging you closer. You pull back, to lick your lips and he pulls you back, his tongue tangling with your own swallowing your gasp, “Flip,” you whimper, and he groans deeply, your hips swirling on his lap.

“I-I shouldn’t,” he pulls back, panting, his forehead pressed to your own.

“Yes you should,” you nod, “because I want you too, I want you so damn much Flip I feel like I’m going to explode.” You run your fingers through his soft black curls, his eyes widen watching you, you whisper, “I want you, Flip. I’ve always wanted you.” It doesn’t take much convincing till the truck’s glass is steaming, his hands so big are everywhere, whispers of praise and love tumbling from his lips like a waterfall. You’re both so distracted you don’t even notice the bright red and blue lights pull up behind you.

You yelp when there comes a sharp knock at the window, the lights flashing through the interior cab bringing the both of you back to earth. You quickly button up your uniform and try to straighten your hair going to move off his lap when Flip grabs your hips, keeping you still. He bends forward, biting the tip of your nose, with a smile, “I got this.”

He rolls down the window and puts an elbow out, pulling you flush against his chest when the chill slips into the truck. “What seems to be the trouble, officer?”

You hear a chuckle and groan when you recognize the voice of Flip’s partner, Ron. “Well, it would seem my partner and the rookie never made it to their destination. Captain sent me out to look for them. You wouldn’t happen to notice a grumpy bastard wearing plaid with dark black hair and a gorgeous young woman around here, would you?”

You glance up at Flip and see the smile on his face, soft and loving, before he turns back to Ron, “I’ve seen a gorgeous woman but not the grumpy bastard, but I’ll be sure to keep an eye out. Maybe if you see them, you can call a tow truck and leave ‘em be for a few more hours?”

“I’m concerned they may freeze to death out in this storm,” Ron replies, playing along, “but I will radio for that tow truck just in case I come across them. Not sure the driver will find anything but a couple of frozen bodies.”

Flip chuckles, brushing his knuckles against your cheek, “I think we got plenty of ways to keep warm. Don’t you think, sweetheart?” All you can do is nod and smile, and when he tucks you back against his chest, his lips ghosting over the top of your head, you feel warmer already.

#Flip Zimmerman #Autumn Writes #Cleaning out the inbox #Flip Zimmerman x Reader #Female Reader #Adam Driver

143 notes · View notes