Can I please request going to a horror movie drive in with Flip where he hopes the movie will be louder than the noises you both make lol :)
warnings.
SMUT (18+ ONLY), high risk sex (car sex around other people), reverse cowgirl, barebacking, creampie.
word count: 525
★ written for sextember 2023 ★
** CLICKING “KEEP READING” MEANS YOU UNDERSTAND & ACKNOWLEDGE ALL OF THE WARNINGS LISTED ABOVE AND ARE OVER THE AGE OF 18. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK, YOUR CONTENT CONSUMPTION IS YOUR RESPONSIBILITY. MINORS DNI. **
collage by me :)
Creepy music plays loudly through the drive-in speakers as the spectators in surrounding cars stare up at the large movie screen, eating their popcorn and drinking their sodas hesitantly, waiting for the impending jump scare.
You and Flip, however, had lost interest in the movie about ten minutes ago. Well, you didn't lose interest, per se. More like you two became much more interested in one another than in the movie.
Lets just say that the gasps and cries from the scared on-screen protagonists aren't the only ones happening at the theater this evening.
Flip grunts as you sink down onto his stiff length repeatedly, hips thrusting up instinctively against you. The truck's windows are starting to really steam up, the air between you two incredibly thick while you ride him.
You're holding tightly onto the grab handle with one hand while the other rests on his hand, the one currently gripping your hip tightly. Your eyes are on the movie and maybe somewhere in your mind you're paying attention to the horrors occurring, but really, it's just pictures on a screen. Your mind is in a whole different place right now.
"S-Shit," you breathe, biting your lip to try and keep the noise down. "Oh god, baby..."
As much as Flip loves this, well, pretty much public sex, he does try to be extra careful since he's law enforcement. He's really hoping the movie's louder than the noises you two are making and the gentle squeaking of his truck's shocks.
He groans softly, cigarette pinched between his teeth, ashes starting to fall off the tip.
"Goddamnit, princess...a little faster for me...mhm, that's it..."
You speed up as he requested, resulting in a spike in both your pleasures. Matching noises of pure lust and passion escape from both of your lips.
"Fuck...mm!"
Flip starts thrusting up into you, chasing his rapidly approaching orgasm. The cars around you seem none the wiser and luckily for you two, the windows are not completely steamed over, so all that can really be seen are your silhouettes.
As he fucks you, you take the opportunity to reach down and rub your clit, moaning softly as the pleasure pulses through you. You're close, very close, and getting closer by the second--
"O-Oh fuck," Flip groans as he cums, pushing his cum up into you with rapid thrusts. "Mmm, good girl...shit..."
Feeling him cum is what sends you over the edge, and you continue rubbing yourself through it as the familiar waves of pleasure roll over your body.
Eventually you both come to a stop and Flip pulls out, tucking himself away while you pull your underwear back into place. As soon as you turn around in his lap, Flip has put out his cigarette and pulls you in for a kiss, his arms wrapping around you to hold you close.
A thought come to you and you smile against his lips, chuckling softly. He pulls away, eyebrows slightly furrowed.
"What is it?"
Your laughter grows a bit.
"I told you this was a good movie."
He laughs, shaking his head and giving your ass a nice firm smack.
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.”
Warnings: NSFW, PIV sex, cumming inside, gendered nicknames (beautiful girl, pretty girl), praise, lots of ‘I love you’s’
Word Count: 920
Summary: You and Flip have sex in a cozy cabin in the middle of winter.
Author’s Note: I promise I didn’t forget about the request sitting in my inbox! Thank you for your patience! I just keep getting ideas, and I have to get them out before they leave me. This one is heavily inspired by the fact that I miss winter so badly. I’m getting tired of warm weather, and I’m very much looking forward to snow and the holidays. Anyway, my requests are indeed still open if you’d like to send one in :)) <3
“Oh, the weather outside is frightful, but the fire is so delightful. And since we've no place to go, let it snow! Let it snow! Let it snow!” - Let it Snow, Dean Martin
The record player crackles as it switches from one song to another. It’s an older album, one from the fifties that used to belong to Flip’s dad. There are lots of records here at his family cabin, but you and Flip chose one randomly. It’s mostly instrumentals – Smooth jazz and piano music, but you most certainly aren’t complaining.
It’s relaxing.
The fire roars in the fireplace, and you sigh as you cuddle up against Flip’s side. It’s snowing outside, and it’s freezing here in the mountains, but you wouldn’t want it any other way. The privacy is excellent, of course, but so are the little moments.
Like you fixing some Jiffy Pop and him coming up behind you to put his hands on your hips, or him crouched in front of the fireplace, cursing as he tries to light it up. It’s small things like that which remind you of just how lucky and in-love you are.
You look up at Flip happily, then press your lips against his. He tastes like buttery popcorn, coffee, and cigarettes. It comforts you in a way that nothing else ever could.
“This is so nice,” you say softly. Flip nods in agreement.
“I think so, too,” he says. “I’m glad that Ma gave me the keys this weekend.”
You smile as you kiss him again, fingers absent-mindedly fiddling with the buttons on his flannel.
“She’s the best,” you say.
“I know.”
Flip presses a kiss to your forehead, then pulls you into his lap. You straddle him lazily, your turtleneck becoming untucked from your jeans as you swing your leg over him and wrap your arms around the back of his neck.
Your smile only widens as you begin to subtly rock your hips back and forth on top of him. He grips your hips, grunting softly, and leans up to kiss you. Your hands are in his hair, on his cheeks, tugging at the buttons of his shirt. You love quick, rough, aggressive sex with your man, but you also love this: Slow, sensual, erotic sex.
Flip tugs your turtleneck up and over your head, tossing it to the side before reaching around to unclasp your bra. Your breasts sit naturally, and he immediately begins to touch them, running his hands over you while you push his flannel off.
“Mm. How do you want me, Flip?”
Flip reaches down to unbuckle his belt and pull his cock free, then says: “Lie down for me.”
You nod, then stand to remove your jeans and panties before getting back on the couch and lying down like he told you to. Flip gets on top of you, cock in hand, and presses his lips firmly against yours. The wind howls and bites at the windows of the cabin, but it can’t get to the two of you. Not now. Not while all the doors and windows are locked, the curtains are closed, and you’re here with your man.
He sighs as he presses into you, pleasure etched across his face as he begins to rock his hips. The song changes again, and your sighs and moans fill the air in-between tracks.
“Oh . . . Fuck, Flip . . . Mmm . . .”
Flip presses his forehead against yours, then fucks you a bit faster. Your body – bare breasts and all – begins to bounce. You groan, gripping his biceps tightly.
“Fuck, s-shit, honey . . .” you sigh before he kisses you.
“Mm. Love you. Love this pretty pussy . . .” Flip says softly. You tug and pull at his hair as the sound of skin-on-skin fills the living room of the cabin. “Fuck, fuck, baby.”
“I love you, too,” you sigh. “Love you s-so much . . .”
The couch begins to creak as Flip pounds you, and you let out a breathy chuckle. He looks at you funny.
“D-Don’t . . . mm . . . Don’t break the couch, honey . . .”
Flip huffs out a quiet laugh.
“I won’t. And if I do, it’ll be for a good cause.”
“Your mom w-would kill you,” you breathe, nails scratching down his back.
“Shhh,” Flip hums softly. “I-I’m close, don’t talk about my mother.”
You laugh again but say nothing else as he fucks you. He cums within another minute or so, and when he fills you up, you groan quietly.
“Shit, fuck . . . Loveyousomuch . . .”
Flip nods, then kisses you again.
“Love you more.”
He pulls out once both of you have caught your breath, and he hands you his flannel. You tug it on and wrap it around yourself, suddenly feeling a bit chilly.
“We should bundle up when we go to bed,” Flip says, tucking his cock away. “The cabin gets cold in the mornings.”
You nod, then kiss his cheek.
“Alright, honey.”
Flip pulls you back into his lap as the smooth, jazzy music continues to play. You play with his hair, which is still slightly wet from when he went outside to gather wood earlier, and you scratch at his scalp until he’s practically putty in your hands. You kiss him once more.
“I love you,” you whisper.
He’s already asleep.
Tagging a few friends who I think might enjoy this (Let me know if anyone would like to be added to a permanent tag list!): @babbushka @safarigirlsp @lumberjack00fantasies
Hii there, hope you’re doing well. I just wanted to drop a request. I just know Kylo Ren is possessive. I know he would use the force to his advantage. (Maybe make it spicy 👀) love your work btw ❤️
Hi!
Thank you for the request!
Kylo can't help it.
He can't help the way that he looks at you and sees you as his, and his alone. He tries to quell the jealousy, to hide it from you, but it is so painfully obvious. He's used the force to his advantage, he's heard the thoughts that some of the stormtroopers have had of you when you innocently walk by, and if they turned up dead the next day, so be it.
You on the other hand are painfully oblivious to the looks and thoughts that others have of you. The only person in your mind and heart is their Supreme Leader. But when Kylo makes you aware of the attention that you receive, it's with growls upon his lips, sharp thrusts of his hips, and the force holding your wrists above your head so that he may freely worship your body.
His deep voice grunting out "mine" every now and again, gives you enough information to understand what this is about, and when you look in the mirror the next morning and see the deep marks on your throat, there's no doubt in your mind that the entire galaxy will know exactly who you belong to.
Would you possibly consider doing a sex pollen fic with Commander Mills and the ☁️ prompt 6? 💛💛💛 thank you
“𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭…”
pairing: Commander Mills x F!Reader
Warnings: 18+. Sex-Pollen, so Dub-Con by default. Oral (f receiving), fingering, dirty talk, cumming in pants, lalala Jasmine’s a slutttt
mills masterlist | main masterlist | follower celebration | taglist
Dread drips from your pores, manifesting in sweat. It should have been obvious not to touch the bright red petals of the flowers blooming from the bush in the forest. Red equals danger, after all- but it had been so pretty.
Being childish, trying to bring a smile to Mills’ stern face, you’d pushed the flower into his ebony hair. He’d scowled at first, but kept it tucked behind his ear.
The sweats had started not long after, heat blooming through your body and roasting you from the inside. Then the arousal. It crawled across your body, ripping you up internally. Fuck, you’d never been so horny, and Mills looked so fucking good— the perspiration settled in his clavicle called to you, tongue desperate for a taste.
The aloof personality of the Commander had dropped away almost instantly, pushing you into the forest grass and undressing you with an animalistic force, seams of your cargo pants tearing.
Tongue buried in your dripping cunt, Mills groaned loudly as he pushed his erection into the forest floor, grinding his hips for purchase. Each delighted hum from his chest vibrated against your cunt, and you came with a shriek of his name. Again.
“Oh my god- ohmygodohmyghohhhhh-“ you ramble, falling into a pathetic wail of bliss as you push your hips up into his face, clit bumping his nose. He plunges his fingers deeper inside of you, tracing your g-spot with deft fingers.
“Fuck,” he pants heavily, looking up at you through his lashes with those eyes, dripping like honey. His mouth is soaked, glistening in the sunshine. “Your pussy tastes so sweet…”
“Ugh-Hah-Hah- Oh fuck,” you squeal, feeling everything pull up tight. “I’m gunna fucking cum again, oh my god, ImgonnafuckingcumaGAIN-“
“C’mo-“ He cuts himself off, wrapping his lips around your cunt and swallowing you down, flicking his tongue over your clit viciously. When you cum, it rattles your bones. Rips through you like liquid heat that makes you sob loudly, body trembling with the force of your tears.
“Hah- Oh shit-“ Mills’ shoulders stiffen beneath your palms, his hips rutting into the soil beneath him. He’s panting heavily, letting out pained groans and rambling to himself.
“Fuck, Baby’s pussy is so wet, isn’t it? So fucking sweet and tasty. Could fucking drown in it- ohfuck,” he spit out, his hand splayed over your abdomen. “Just another taste. Just one more tas-“
You try to escape it, pulling your hips away from the overstimulation, but Mills swipes his tongue through your folds once more, body seizing up as he cums with a devastated groan, his nails digging into the flesh of your stomach.
“Oh- Mills-“ you sob out, eyes rolling back into your skull as an orgasm rocks you again.
Summary: Flip Zimmerman believed there to only be one God whose name was his own.
Word count: 7.4k
Warnings: Age gap (reader is of age), sexual harassment (maybe idk), PinV sex, unprotected sex, fingering, masturbation, swearing, dirty talk, religion, blasphemy.
A/N: Maaaaybe don't read this if you're religious. I was raised Lutheran so I mostly drew inspiration from that ☺️
It took him a while to get you as he wanted; squirming under him as his lips were hot on your neck and his fingers were deep in your pussy, caressing your walls until tears were leaking from your eyes from the pleasure.
Flip could remember the first time he had seen you as clear as day. You had come bounding into the police station with a basket of freshly baked goods and a sinfully sweet dress that swung by your knees. The preacher’s daughter. Your father had been a few steps behind you, but Flip had been so preoccupied with devouring every inch of you that he could see that he had completely overlooked him.
You were new in town and Flip knew that there would be more than a few dirty bastards at the precinct that probably wanted to sink their filthy claws into you. He didn’t even want to begin to think about all those boys at the community college and what they got up to whilst daydreaming of you. Honestly, sometimes Flip thought that the filth that was man should be completely eradicated from earth, and he’d thought of it even more since he’d met you.
Flip couldn’t allow that, of course. You were so pure, you deserved to be with somebody who could treat you right; somebody who could treat that pretty pussy you had between your legs like it deserved to be treated; somebody who was a God amongst men.
You needed to be licked at until your legs shook as you came gushing all over his face, and after that, to be fucked with your ass high up in the air as he drove into you from behind, the tip of him pounding into that soft, spongy part of you that would make your walls clench around his thick shaft as you milked him. He wanted you to moan into his ear as he made you cum with just his fingers and a few kisses on your neck.
Flip found himself to be more... charitable after that. The time he would usually spend tugging at his cock on a Thursday afternoon when he got off work early was spent volunteering at the church, right alongside you.
Of course, Flip wasn’t a religious or God-fearing man, far from it. He did not believe in any sort of higher power that so many people devoted their lives to. Yes, he was born Jewish, but hadn’t given much thought to religion past the time he’d become self-aware. Why was there a need for a god to dictate your life when he could make all the right decisions himself?
It started small. He took his time getting you, coming across as the nice guy — but, of course, he was a nice guy, so it wasn’t all completely an act.
Volunteering at Colorado Hills Church on Thursday’s consisted of cleaning up after the gardening group that you held every week at 3 P.M. It was just him, you, and another irrelevant man who would put away the heavy tables and gardening tools. You were always so grateful for his help, thanking him over and over again before disappearing and reappearing again with a steaming hot cup of coffee whenever he took a break to inhale a cigarette.
Flip would always make sure to come just a few minutes earlier than he needed to so that he could catch the last few moments of your class. He could admit that it was nice seeing you in your element, the way you flourished as you fluttered around the kids that were learning about some new vegetable every week. He couldn’t help watching your every move, every laugh that rang out of you and every smile that wove its way across your face.
It took a month before he got you alone for the first time. 4 weeks of spending his Thursday afternoons with you and fisting his cock until he came all over his stomach when he came home. You made him so, so incredibly hard. His cock would painfully throb in his jeans as he saw you bend over in those short dresses you would wear, always the picture-perfect image of a preacher’s daughter.
It was all an act. Flip knew it, you knew it, anyone who took their time to think about more than their head between your thighs would be able to see it. You had everyone fooled, everyone except for him. Flip noticed the way you would squirm anytime he looked at you, the way you would subconsciously rub your thighs together and bite your lip. It was the reason why Flip liked to tease you. He knew that sending you even half of a smile was enough to make your panties drenched and he thrived on that little tidbit of information.
“Just us today?” You jumped as you heard his voice from behind you and Flip couldn’t help but let out a chuckle of amusement as he saw the flustered look on your face.
“Yeah, just us.” You let out a nervous giggle as you stared up at him with wide eyes and Flip thought you reminded him of a doe-eyed deer, caught in the trap of the hunter.
“Good.”
“I- I...” You stuttered, words falling over a cliff into a pool of nothingness as you became tongue-tied. Flip liked the way he could reduce you to a complete mess with less than a handful of words.
The last few stragglers of kids had already left so you were all alone in the garden, in your own oasis, surrounded by high shrubs and cold concrete walls that separated the rest of the world from you. He had you all to himself, right where he wanted you.
“What do you want to do first?” He awarded you the pretence that you were the one who decided what to do, that you were the one that completely dictated the when, where, and how. It was cute.
“Ma- Maybe we could ehm... start with the- the tools.” It was the usual routine, starting with the tools, then the bags of soil, and then the large planter tables. But it made you feel like you had some sort of semblance of control when he let you point and order him around.
Flip got to it quickly. He lifted from his knees, hoisting the unopened bags over his shoulder with ease and then gathered all the scattered tools as you tried helping as much as you could. You were like a little mouse, scurrying around like a flustered mess as you made minimal small talk whilst stumbling over your words.
He took his opportunity when you dropped the overly large box of seeds of all kinds. He didn’t rush over to help you, taking his time to set down the boxes he had been carrying before meandering over to help you pick up the scattered bags.
“Clumsy, are we?” You smiled down at your hands as you shrugged your shoulders. Flip made you flustered, he unnerved you and made your heart race at such a pace that you found it impossible not to fumble with even the simplest of tasks. Walking in a straight line without stumbling became something that you barely knew how to do.
“Sorry…” You didn’t know exactly what you were apologising for but the urge to blurt it out came over you before you could stop yourself. Flip let out a chuckle before he put the last few bags back into the box and straightened out to his full height.
It was clear to Flip that you were completely mesmerized and spellbound as you looked up at him, his impressive physique entrancing you completely. He liked you like this, looking up at him as if he was your saviour, the one that would deliver salvation to you as you prayed at his feet.
Flip held out his hand, reaching down to help you up. He didn’t let your hand go immediately once you were on both feet, but you didn’t either. It was all very cliche, but Flip wasn’t one to complain. Life, once again, was working in his favour. You were becoming more and more entranced by him, adoration growing in your core like a flower in April whose petals furled out in an unperturbed instance, there in less than a moment.
“Thank you.” You whispered quietly as if you were afraid that the wind would overhear a secret only meant for his ears. Flip thought that your eyes looked beautiful in that moment, glittering in the sunshine that you bathed in. “For always being so kind and helping.”
Flip probably didn’t deserve a thank you. He was, after all, solely motivated for selfish reasons that involved less than supposedly true Christian values. But who cared about Christian values when they were sourced in the book of God that fueled such hatred in the world; when the Most High created evil that degraded the earth and defiled the innocent? He did not strike down the sinners as he promised; instead, warlords were beloved for the chaos and strife they caused the world, praised for ungodly acts as something akin to Lucifer whispered in their ears and blackened their hearts.
“You’re the one that should be thanked.” You looked surprised over his words; like it was the last thing you expected to come out of his mouth; like you had never been thanked before in your entire life.
“I just do what I am told.” You released his hand abruptly, twirling on your heels and walking off.
There was a shed behind the church that housed all the gardening tools you used for your classes. It was a quiet place, a private place that was perfect for any adventure you did not want anyone else to see.
Flip had to duck to get through the door without hitting his head. It was a surprisingly organised space; you were meticulous when it came to what went where. There was a small single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling that cast an ominous light over all that resided within the four walls.
“Do you enjoy doing all of this? All this volunteering?” Flip’s voice was gruff as his eyes flickered across the small hut, taking in all the details that he had already seen with a renewed interest.
“Of course.”
“I think you’re lying to yourself.” It was easy to hear your sharp inhale, there wasn’t exactly much that could drown it out except for Flip’s own breathing. You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, unsure of what to say.
“You shouldn’t say such things.”
“What kind of things?”
“Such… Such blasphemous things.”
“What is blasphemous about that?”
You didn’t have an answer for him, and he didn’t expect you to. Besides, ‘blasphemous’ was practically synonymous with ‘human’, especially when it came to the disgrace of men. The disgrace that so many men fell victim to, and they then excused under the guise of religion and worshipping a holy man. In Flip’s eyes, letting the figment of a man dictate a life of discontent which was shrewd with greed seemed pointless. It was better to own up to whatever mistakes one made. Not that Flip made mistakes, but others did, and he pitied them for it.
“We are all blasphemous beings; don’t you think so?”
Your mouth fell open and your eyes widened over his words. He moved closer to you; a predator stalking prey.
“Even God must have blasphemous thoughts when he has to witness beauty such as yourself every day.”
“Mr Zimm-”
“Call me Flip.” He was so close to you now that he toed at your shoes.
“Flip, you shouldn’t say such things here.”
“Would it be better if I just thought them?” Flip didn’t need the excuse of being God to be able to read your thoughts, it was all clear as day, right there upon your pretty face.
“I think it would be, actually.”
“Do you ever think such things?” He asked with a crooked grin.
A pause in your resumed movements of nervous organisation. Your head turned slowly to look up at him with the hint of an unwilling smile on your lips. He returned it by a widening of his own, coaxing an answer out of you with the silent promise of something beyond mere friendship.
“Maybe sometimes.”
“Do you think we’ll go to hell? Just for some unclean thoughts?” Flip almost felt bad for the audible gulp you swallowed over his words.
“No?”
“No.” Flip didn’t believe that there even was a hell to begin with, but he didn’t need to tell you that right at that moment.
“Sometimes.” You squeaked out. Had you ever been this close to a man that wasn’t related to you before? Had you ever felt the heat of another rolling off them in waves so strong that it felt like it would pull you under, down into the deepest darkest pits, and never let you free?
“So, what do you do?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t?” Flip could see the amusement that danced in his eyes reflected in yours.
“I-“
“I like to watch you.” Flip said when it appeared that you weren’t going to come up with something.
“Me?”
Flip hummed and lifted his hand to stroke a single finger across your cheek. “Watching you brings me happiness.”
“Really?” Any other person would have been creeped out by his confession, but not you. You, subconsciously, chased the thrill that accompanied his admission. It was evident in the way you shifted your hips ever so slightly, angling them toward him in a desperate attempt to be delivered pleasure.
“I enjoy watching you, too.” You whispered. He wouldn’t have heard it if you had been anywhere else. Flip didn't even try to pretend to be bashful. A shit-eating grin grew on his face as satisfaction took over his entire being.
“Sometimes, I touch myself thinking about what’s hiding underneath that skirt.” Flip said. Did your walls clench as you heard those words? Did your thighs quiver as you thought about him between them? Flip wanted nothing more than to bury his face in you and lap at your clit as if he was a man starved and dying, the elixir of life dripping out of only you.
“You do?”
“Haven’t been able to get you out of my head.” You were backing away from him now, but it was only to lean against the wall, needing something steady to ground yourself for fear that your knees would give out as Flip continued. “I think about what you would taste like, the moans you would let out, what you’d look like as you cum.”
This. This was blasphemy. But you didn’t want Flip to stop. You wanted him to say every filthy thing he’d ever thought and then whisper them in your ear again as his hands explored every uncharted crevice of your body.
You hadn’t even noticed him move but, suddenly, there he was. He crowded around you, caging you in between his arms as you pressed even further into the wall behind you, heart racing in your chest from the excitement bubbling within you.
It felt like hellfire spread all over your skin as his paw of a hand came in contact with the outside of your thigh for the first time. You thought it would consume you and burn you to the crisp, leaving you right there in a pile of ash so that whoever was unlucky enough to find you would know you’d sinned. Stricken down by the Lord’s anger for succumbing to Lucifer’s lust.
He just held it there, enclosing your thigh in a soft but firm hold. He wanted to claw at you, to claim you as his and his alone but he didn’t let that come across in his movements that were almost lazily caressing you. Up and down. Up and down the outside of your thigh.
It travelled under the hem of your dress as you held your breath, watching it disappear as it moved closer and closer to your most unfathomable place. You wanted to shout all your sounds of pleasure from the highest building for all to hear, thanking the Lord for delivering this brazen man to you, but you didn’t say anything. Not a sound made its way past your lips. Was it for fear of scaring him away? From scaring yourself? Admitting that you wanted him to touch you would, in your mind, mean that you gave in, you gave in to the carnal pleasures of man that you had spent so long withstanding. But how could it be so bad to want a simple touch? Surely, anyone in your position would also give in to the temptation of this mortal man.
“Tell me what you want, sweetheart.” Flip cooed. “You want me to touch you here?” One lonesome finger trailed over your cloth-covered pussy, causing you to squirm against the wooden wall.
“Or do you want something else?” He withdrew his hands from you, placing them on either side of your head. “You want me to kiss you?” He wouldn’t have to move much to press his lips against your own. Flip was so close to your face that he could feel every soft exhale on his lips, his nose brushing against your own with every heave of his chest.
Flip pressed a kiss to your cheek, so close to your lips that you could almost taste him already; the tendrils of smoke and coffee that would mix and infuse your senses. You hoped he would taste like he smelled, absolutely divine.
It was your own head that turned to connect your lips. His lips were soft, pillowy, and completely sublime. Teeth knocked against each other as your eagerness took over and Flip chuckled. Never would he have thought that you would be this greedy for him this early on. He had hoped, of course, but it did not go beyond that. Isn’t it funny how in a sinful kiss, your most vulnerable moment, you had never before felt as pure as you did at that moment? It is a promise of realness, evidence of the primal desire that ignited a need deep inside of you.
Your hands came up to pull at his flannel shirt, using it to pull yourself closer to him in desperation, clinging to him. His lips were sweeter than anything you had ever tasted before, like the nectar of the gods, something you would crave throughout the rest of this life and the next.
Flip couldn’t help but let his hands run wide, up along your waist, brushing along the side of your breasts, and coming to cradle your neck. Such a simple touch yet it held all the power as he squeezed just enough for you to become breathless. He drew back to look at you for a moment.
“Tell me what you want.” He urged. It wasn’t enough for him to feel it through your actions, he wanted to hear you beg for his touch, for him.
“I don’t know.” So innocent.
“You do.” You stared up at him for a few beats of a moment, gnawing at that lip that he wished to pull at with his own teeth. You were hesitant as you grabbed a hold of his wrist, guiding it back to under the skirt of your dress and to the place that was aching for him.
Flip’s touch was electric as it travelled over the hem of your panties, fingering at it as you grew wetter and wetter from his teasing. He was watching your face for any sign of regret, but there was none, your eyebrows were already furrowed over the anticipation of more.
“You want me to touch you here, sweetheart?”
“Yes!” You said with a yelp and a startled hand came up to cover your mouth in surprise.
“You need to keep quiet if you want this.” Flip tutted with a shake of his head.
His hand slipped into your soaked panties, fingers easily finding your clit and circling it tightly a few times. The whines and moans that were released from you sounded heavenly, Flip thought ironically. His fingers left your clit, sliding them down just a bit further to feel your wetness.
“So wet for me already.” Flip groaned out. You were practically dripping for him as you writhed against his hand, craving a feeling you didn’t know. You felt like crying when his fingers left your sacred place, holding up his glistening finger to the light.
“Look at that.” Flip said, astonished.
Flip slipped the finger into your mouth, feeding it in and out as his thumb and middle finger pressed your cheeks together. You could taste yourself on your finger He couldn’t wait to get his cock in between those perfect lips, to watch you as you struggled to take him. Your tongue swirled around his index, coating it thoroughly before he withdrew it with a plop! It was glistening with wetness as he brought it back underneath your skirt to explore your folds for a short while longer before he slipped a finger inside of you.
“You’re so fucking tight, sweetheart.”
It was a foreign, unknown feeling that spread through you as he pushed in. You had never felt so full, and it was just a single finger. It was obvious from the hard bulge that was pressing against the side of your hip that his cock was much, much thicker.
Flip let you adjust for as long as he could, but the throbbing of your walls around his finger wasn’t good for his self-control. Eventually, he began pumping it in and out of you slowly. The moan that slipped out of you was low, erupting from the deepest, darkest parts of you.
“Yeah? You like that?” His hand hoisted your leg further up on his waist, spreading you open even more for him. “You want more? Think you can take it?”
You nodded your head desperately, words having forsaken you in the throes of pleasure.
Another finger joined the first as he pumped them in and out of you slowly enough so that he could feel every ridge of your walls but fast enough so that you were becoming completely breathless. You were so ready for him that the second finger stretched you easily.
You wanted to cry out as his thumb started rubbing over your clit, your walls clamped down hard around his finger at the new feeling, but he connected his mouth to yours just as it was about to drop open.
Flip kissed you like it was the last thing he was ever going to do. He was rough as he pressed his lips against yours, and you returned his hunger for you with your own for him. His tongue explored everything in its way as his hand continued pumping two fingers into you slowly.
A bubbling warmth was spreading through every nerve in your body. Your brain was in a haze, you were unable to focus on anything as the white-hot pleasure built inside of you.
Flip disconnected his lips from yours to watch you. You were a vision, and he couldn’t hold back anymore, the urgent need to see you cum taking over him. Flip started thrusting his fingers into you, causing you to squeal in surprise and claw at the wall behind you.
”Oh, God!”
”You shouldn’t utter God’s name in vain, sweetheart.” Flip chuckled teasingly. “Also, I thought I told you to be quiet.”
He was drilling into you so quickly you were sure you could see stars behind your eyes as he curled his fingers to hit just that right spot inside of you.
“Oh, Flip-” You moaned out breathily, slightly curling into yourself as waves of pleasure washed over you, your eyes falling shut. The loud sounds of the wet squelches of your pussy bounced around the small walls of the garden shed.
“Look at me!” He breathed out sharply. He needed to see your eyes and the emotions behind them as he thrust his fingers into you repeatedly. He needed to so you cum for him as you fell aperture completely for the first time.
It was hard to concentrate enough to open them, it took you a second to do it, right as you fell over the edge into rapture. Your legs shook uncontrollably as you came, and Flip had never seen a more angelic sight. He wanted to watch you like this for the rest of his life.
Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit.
He was the one that tasted you this time, suckling the nectar of you from his fingers and groaning over the taste of it.
”Taste so good, completely divine.” He sent you a wink as you watched him with wide eyes.
He had never seen you look so rattled, it would be clear to anyone that you had just been thoroughly ravaged from the uncharacteristically unkempt look of wrinkly clothes and hazy eyes.
“You okay?”
“Yeah…” Were you? You were unsure, but it was only because you yearned for more.
“Good.” Flip pressed another kiss to your lips, this one much sweeter than all the others.
Flip reluctantly left the shed to tend to the last bits of the gardening things. He wanted to do more, for both you and himself, but he knew that he needed to take his time. His cock was rock hard in his jeans as he drove home, throbbing in desperation as he replayed the face you made as you came. He could worship that sight for ages.
Flip let you simmer in your feelings after that. He wanted you to come to terms with the lust you felt for him in your own time. He wanted you to be the one that would come to him. It was hard for him... not touching you. It was so hard that he thought he must’ve found himself in hell on earth. He wanted to knead your supple thighs, to flick at your clit with his tongue, to watch your face twist in ecstasy as he sank into you for the first time.
“Just us?” Déjà vu? You appeared even more timid and shy this time than last, something he had not thought possible. You were reluctant to meet his eyes, that shy smile that you usually wore was gone without a trace.
“Yep, just us.” Your voice sounded strained, and your eyes avoided looking at him as they flickered around the garden, trying to find something, anything to distract you from him.
Flip made you nervous, he made shivers run down your spine in both the best and worst way. He had completely disrupted your life with his presence. He had tainted your thoughts, made the devil whisper unclean things in your ear as you laid awake in your bed at night, hand subconsciously drifting down to your clit to rub at it, but it was never enough; it was never the same. You craved his touch, the taste of his lips, the feeling of his cock pressed against you. You needed to know what it looked like, what it felt like inside of you, and it was a need that scared you.
You tried keeping your distance as you worked, but it was impossible. You could feel him everywhere you went, even when Flip wasn’t looking at you, nor you him, you could still feel his presence, hyper-aware of him wherever he was.
You almost felt nauseous as you felt him follow you into the church when you were done. It wasn’t that you feared him, you could never fear Flip, it was another Him whose judgement petrified you. However, you were obviously not fearful enough as you — lacking all taught self-constraint – turned around a flung yourself at him, lips locking with his.
Flip let out a startled but delighted hum as he stumbled back half-a-step in surprise.
“Have you missed me?” He teased, only being allowed to disconnect his lips from yours for the fraction of a second. That carnal urge was there again, taking over your limbs and propelling you towards him.
“I’m taking that as a yes.”
You had missed him. Of course, you had. It was hard not to miss him. Flip was the kind of person that you would always remember, no matter who you were. He was unforgettable, a distinctive memory of a spectacular person that would always be there, somewhere in the back of your mind. Forever.
His hands roamed over your body, touching, and caressing you everywhere he could as you tugged on his hands, his belt, the button and zipper of his jeans before reason finally caught up with you again and you wrenched yourself away from him.
“What is it?”
“We can’t do this – shouldn’t be doing this – it’s not right. God says-”
“I am your God.”
“You’re a man.”
“What’s the difference?” Flip tilted his head, watching you with genuine curiosity and a raised eyebrow.
You didn’t know what to say; your mouth fell open, but no words came out as your mind raced to find an answer. Was there truly a difference?
Someone once said that the gods envy us, and Flip, wholeheartedly, believed it to be true. The one God envies us, his creation, feeble humans. We live life side by side with thrill, with unforeseeable possibilities and opportunities that could end within a fraction of an instance. Every moment could be our last and God doesn’t have that privilege. He lives every day knowing that the end will never come; the inevitable salvation of oblivion will never reach him. Eternal life is a futile promise that is whispered in the ears of delusional fools as they devote their lives to a false god. God was simply a man skilled with dreams and distorted fantasies who Flip saw as nothing more than an equal – if even that.
“You can devote your life to me, and I assure you that I will bring you more happiness than He ever could.” His fingers were trailing up the inside of your thigh as he whispered into your ear. A small whine left you in an exhale as you tried to clench your legs together, tried to banish those dirty thoughts from your mind but it was impossible. Flip Zimmerman had infiltrated all your defences, broken down your walls, and riddled your mind with sinful thoughts. He was so close to dominating your being in every sense of the word.
“My father-”
“The preacher doesn't have to know, sweetheart. In fact, I think it’d be better if we kept this just between you and me, don’t you agree?” A kiss was placed right underneath your ear and another moan slipped out of you. The scent of him was everywhere, travelling like a mist over your skin, caressing your cheeks, and poisoning your mind so that the only thing you could think about was him.
“Yes...” Flip had a way of making you hazy when you were around him, of making you question everything you’d ever known just so that he would deliver that heaven-sent pleasure again and again.
And now, here you were, all alone in the house of God, ready to devote yourself to this impious man.
Your hands came back up to cradle his neck, pulling him back down to you so that you could kiss on him, love on him.
Somehow, the two of you made your way between the pews, Flip firmly guiding you to lay down on one of them as he kissed down your body and finally found his home with his head buried between your thighs.
You squirmed as he kissed his way up and down the inside of your thighs, his beard tickling your skin as you whined and sighed. He was so close, yet he was so far away from where you wanted him. You combed your hands through his hair, tugging at it in frustration, pulling a laugh from Flip as he slid your panties down your thighs, agonisingly slow, before pocketing them.
“You need to learn to be patient, my sweet.” Flip loved seeing you like this; it was a welcomed change.
“Now, thank the Lord and give me a Hail Mary.” Flip didn’t know much about Christianity, but he knows enough to know about the love for redemption and forgiveness that plagued the servants of Christ.
“What?” You sat up just enough so that you could see him leering at you, half of his face hidden by your dress and mound.
“You heard me, sweetheart.” He was teasing you, wanting to see you flustered, hear how you stuttered over your words as he pleasured you. Flip would be the only one you would pray to at the end of it all, but he would allow this just to humour himself. He was slowly becoming your everything, your one true god.
“Hail Mary…” His lips connected with your clit for the first time, and you were sure in that moment that you had entered through the pearly gates.
“Oh, Flip!” Your hands tightened in his hair as he lapped at your swollen clit. “Full o- of grace-e,” You stuttered out, trailing off as Flip sucked you into his mouth before flattening his tongue, dragging it through your soaked lower lips.
“I can’t hear you.” He taunted. He spread your legs wider, forcing them to stay in one place as the rest of your body writhed. His tongue probed at your entrance, slipping into you with little resistance. That nose you loved so much brushed against your sensitive clit with every stroke of his tongue.
“The Lord is with thee! Blessed- blessed art thou-u am-amongst women and blessed is… is the fru-uit of thy womb, Jesus!” Your back arched off the pew as that blinding heat raced through your body once more. Steadily building in your stomach before erupting, spewing flames everywhere.
“Amen!” You practically shrieked it as you came, eyes rolling back in your head and legs shaking as they tried to clamp shut.
“Amen.” Flip hummed in agreement, withdrawing from you, and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Your chest was heaving from your frantic breathing. There was an exhausted smile growing on your face, completely saturated with satisfaction and you couldn’t help but giggle quietly to yourself.
Flip couldn’t stop himself from pressing a bruising kiss to your lips. You moaned happily, opening your mouth when you felt his tongue swipe against your lower lip. Your hand came up to grasp at his shoulder, steadying your weak body.
“I want more.” You said as his kisses grew lazier.
“Greedy.” Flip wasn’t complaining, he was going to give you more, of course. He would always give you more if you wanted it.
He guided you, moving you from the narrow, wooden pew down to the cool stone floor. You were laying on display for him, right beneath the podium where your father would preach his sermon to the congregation, just as he did, every Sunday.
The sound of his belt coming completely undone bounced through the room. You were anxious for what was to come, not because of God or what he would think, but because this was your first time, just like any ordinary person would be.
Flip pushed down his pants just enough so that he could pull himself free from the confines, and you marvelled at the sight of his rock-hard cock. Your mouth salivated as you saw it pulse, the tip angrily red. He was weeping for you, pre-cum leaking out of the tip as he pulsed painfully. He fisted himself a couple of times with a groan.
Flip’s dick was so thick from head to base that he himself almost had a hard time wrapping his hand around it. It had just the right amount of curve that he knew he would be able to coax out a myriad of orgasms out of you.
“You look so pretty like this.” You really did. You were a sight that Flip himself could worship for the rest of his life; your legs having eagerly fallen open for him, pussy glistening in the light from how wet you were, and your sinfully innocent skirt pulled up around your waist as you clasped your hands in the fabric as if you were trying to steady your racing heart.
“Please, Flip, I need you.” You whimpered.
He stood on his knees before you. He felt powerful as he watched you on your back before him, leaking in desperation for his cock.
“Tell me how much you want it.” He tilted his head.
“More than anything, God, please, Flip!” Who was he to keep you from this? A man who was more than God would be merciful and
“You need to stop pleading to God, sweetheart, He’s not gonna help you.” Flip spread your legs just a bit wider before wrapping his hand around the base of his cock lining himself up with your entrance. He made sure to coat himself thoroughly in your wetness, dragging the head of him through your soaked folds.
You gasped at the first feeling of him as he prodded at your entrance. You rutted your hips upward, hoping that he would just finally slide in. The angels and all of Colorado Springs surely had to hear your cries of pleasure as he finally pushed in, all the way to the base of him, bottoming out as the tip of him nestled against your cervix ever so lightly.
This is what you were created for, only this and nothing else.
You adjusted to him quickly, hands coming to grasp at his hips, urging him to move. Small traces of pain tainted the incomprehensible pleasure that washed over you, but you couldn’t stop now. You didn’t want to stop now.
Flip didn’t keep a slow pace for long, replacing the long and languid pumps he had started off with for harsher thrusts into you.
“You like that, sweetheart?”
“Yes, oh fuck, harder!” Your head lulled to one side, hands clawing at his back as if you wanted to be even closer to him than you already were.
Flip had you right where he wanted you. The preacher’s daughter getting stuffed to the brim with his thick cock on the floor in the Lord’s house, safely under the watchful eyes of the man on the cross and your father in heaven.
“Look up at your God as you sin, see how he watches over you while I’m fucking you, while you're begging me to fuck you.” He pushed your head to the side, his hand pressing your cheeks together so that you would focus on the deity before you; the man who had sacrificed his own life for yours.
A particularly rough thrust into you made you cry out even louder causing Flip to stop abruptly.
“Sweetheart, as much as I love every single fucking sound that comes out of you, you need to keep quiet.” Despite there not being anything scheduled, anybody could come in at any moment, it was an open church, after all, free for the public to come and pray as they wanted.
Those hands of God ran down your body, sliding over your sweetest places and rubbing against your most sensitive areas as Flip pounded into you. He was so deep inside of you that you barely knew what to do with yourself.
You couldn’t keep quiet, no matter how hard you tried moans still slipped past your lips and Flip was eventually forced to quiet you with his hand over your mouth.
Your walls were clenched so tightly around him, drawing him deeper and deeper inside.
“Fuck” You groaned. “Feels so- fucking good.” You shakily breathe out.
“Yeah? Do you love it when I pump my cock into you?” Flip cooed as he asked, slowing down just slightly, but each thrust was still sharp, still precise, and hard, and calculated, rotating his hips just enough to hit that special spot inside of you.
A breathy yes! left your lips.
“More.” You demanded.
He pulled out so just his tip was left in you, waiting there for just a second before slamming back into you again, buried to the hilt. The groan Flip let out sent tingles down your spine and caused you to clench even tighter around him, triggering another moan from him.
“If only you knew how fucking good you feel, sweetheart.” Flip praised, followed by another harsh rut into you.
He continued pumping into your sweet cunt, drawing moans from you that were filthy, thoroughly fucking you into the cold stone floor. The sound of his balls slapping against you every time he thrust into you was driving you insane.
His thrusts had picked up in pace once again, ruthless and reckless as he fucked deeper and deeper into you. You were trembling against him, breath hitching and getting caught in your chest as you almost forgot how to breathe. You could feel your release mounting quickly once again, shockwaves gripping your body and rolling through you with every buck into you.
“Say my name.”
“What?” You weren’t lucid enough to possibly begin to understand what he meant at that moment.
“Say my name.” He repeated, making sure to punctuate every single word with a small thrust upward to meet you as you came down on him. “And make sure He hears you.” Caution had left Flip, abandoned him in the heat of the moment. He thought that the congregation needed to hear the beauty that was his name falling from your lips.
His name spilt out of your mouth just a few seconds later in the form of a half-strangled moan.
“Louder.”
“Flip!” You shouted his name as you finally came, tumbling over the edge as stars were painted behind your eyelids. Your legs were shaking, spasming, through the waves, words of gibberish leaving your mouth as he made you babble like a brook. Legs shaking, blood rushing in your ears, and your heart thumping painfully in your chest as it contracted. Flip hadn’t even faltered in his movements, fucking you through your orgasm, continuing to pump into you as he chased his own climax. You could just barely make out his own groans in your ear as he bounded and leapt closer to the edge.
It did not matter to Flip what anyone else could – or possibly would – say about the two of you. He was meant to spend the rest of his earthside life between your thighs.
You hadn’t felt this way before, you didn’t even know you could feel this way; the overwhelming stimulation that was rushing through your blood, lighting your nerves on fire, making you want to stay right there, until kingdom come.
Flip delivered a sweet pleasure that sent you oscillating between heaven and earth, torn between life and something other.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” Flip grunted as he watched himself disappear inside of your body over and over again.
“Want you to come inside of me.” Flip had successfully turned you into a wanton whore, desperate for his seed to taint you, and he did. He came deep inside of you, hips continuing to pump into you as he made sure that you got received every single last drop of him. He would now and for always be with you in every step you took, dripping out of you in your memories.
In Flip’s mind, God is beneath him; he is inferior because he forbids the very thing that makes you human – the harmless pleasure that hides underneath swinging skirts and in between loins.
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit; as it was in the beginning, is now, and will be forever.
Here are all my Adam Driver Character Universe (ADCU) works.
ao3
NOTE: all of my writings are works of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of my own imagination & are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events and people (living or dead) are coincidental.
Note: Happy New Year everyone! I wanted to write this up real quick, it's not much, but I was really feeling Maurizio on this tonight. I typed it up really quickly, just wanted to get something out TONIGHT before it turned midnight on the west coast (where I'm at!)
Phrases to know: *Guarda quanto sei bella - Look how gorgeous you are
*Amore mio - my love
Contents/Warnings: Fluff, kissing, pretty SFW, some sexual language
You and Maurizio had just landed in New York City. He claimed he was here strictly on business, but it was a holiday and you knew it.
While he did have business meetings to attend, you stayed in the luxurious hotel room he had booked for the two of you. However, he promised you two would explore the city after the meeting today. After all, it was New Year's Eve.
You were applying your lipstick when you heard the door open and click shut.
“Love?” Maurizio quietly called, peeking around the corner to see you in the bathroom. He stood behind you in the bathroom, completely taking in your appearance while you finished up your makeup.
“Guarda quanto sei bella.”
You turned around, eyebrows raised at your husband. He was never light about compliments, showering you with them constantly. You smiled up at him, his hands finding your waist. Maurizio pulled you in, pecking at your lips a few times.
You pulled back slightly, humming.
“Thank you,” you whispered, fluttering your eyelashes.
“Any time, Bellissimo.”
You both exited the bathroom, pulling on the boots you intended to wear out today. Pulling on your stunning white coat to pull your outfit together, Maurizio barely changed his clothes and was ready.
“Men, absolutely no effort, and they can still look good,” you hummed over at him, listening to the chuckle in response.
“I know, doll, just call me flawless.”
You rolled your eyes, smiling as he stood in front of you once more.
“Let’s get going before we can’t move at all out there,” he suggested, holding his hand out, dragging you out of the hotel room.
Maurizio let you pick any stores to go into, any sights to see, and generally whatever you wanted to do for the rest of the day.
By the time the sun was setting, you were both walking back into the hotel, not avoiding any crowds. Setting everything you had bought from the day, which wasn’t much, onto the chair in the room, Maurizio looked at you with a slight smirk.
You looked up from sorting through the new belongings, tilting your head at him. He got that look in his eyes typically when he was in the mood. You shook your head, setting your things down.
You aimed a finger at him, shaking your head once more.
“Not right now, we were just out all day.”
Maurizio looked puzzled, giving you a smile.
“I meant champagne, amore mio. Let’s ring in the new year with some champagne and we can people-watch.”
You giggled as he picked up the hotel phone to dial for room service. Within no time the bottle showed up in the room, and your husband tipped room service generously.
You both stood on the balcony, both enthralled with the crowd of people down below. You had no idea how much time had passed, but the crowd grew louder with every passing moment. In a way, it was really fun to see everyone crowd around, pushing and shoving in an attempt to try to get out, or get farther in.
“People really come here to do this every year?” You questioned, turning your head to him.
The dark haired male turned his head back to you, looking you in the eyes.
“It’s a party, why wouldn’t you?”
You shrugged, a smile creeping onto your face.
“I don’t think standing in that crowd would be my thing.”
“Love, we are pretty much here for the party as well,” Maurizio mentioned, shrugging, a hand running through his hair. He straightened out from leaning over the balcony, checking his watch.
“11:30. So close.”
Maurizio kissed your forehead, then your nose, then your lips. You both shared a sweet moment, though anyone who looked up could probably see you two.
He leaned down close to your ear, gently placing a kiss on your earlobe.
“I am going to give you such a treat after midnight.”
His words made you shiver in anticipation, eliciting a soft noise from you. When your husband stood up straight one more time, you half closed your eyes in a seductive glance, lips slightly parted up at him.
“You’ll get one too.”
Maurizio shuddered, chuckling down at you, giving you one more kiss before turning back and leaning over the balcony again. You dragged your fingernails along his back, leaning gently against him.
As the time drew closer to midnight, Maurizio pulled out the champagne from inside the hotel room. He was going to pop it over the balcony, and not the safe way, either.
Soon enough, the crowd began the ten-second countdown. You and your husband looked at each other, bright smiles on your faces.
When it hit one, Maurizio used the hand that wasn’t holding the alcohol to pull you in, planting a long, loving kiss on your lips. You both grinned into the kiss, pulling away so he could pop the bottle.
You were both sure that it hit someone in the sea of people down below, worrying you for a second before laughing along with your husband.
He poured the champagne into the glasses, handing you yours first. You clinked your glasses together, Maurizio planting one more kiss on your lips before you took sips of the alcohol.
