Steam in the Locker Room {boxer!Flip Zimmerman x FBI agent!Reader}
originally requested for hump day funday, actually written for december of delivering.
“Scream for me. I want everyone to know who’s making you feel good.” Please for boxer Flip 😍 Or with “Tell me how much you like this. Tell me how good I make you feel!” Same person for boxer Flip.
thanks to my lovely beta reader, @icarusinthesea for reading through this for me! and also thank you for letting me steal your last sentence idea lol. you’re the best <3
**this is set in the same universe as my Flip fic, Fuckin’ (A) Fed, and this is set post the events of that story. I highly suggest that you read that fic beforehand to get an understanding of RC & Flip’s relationship dynamics, but it’s not absolutely necessary to enjoy this piece.**
warnings.
SMUT, some FLUFF, humor, language, teasing (platonic and sexual), underground fight club stuff, the irony of a law enforcement officer being involved in illegal operations, shower sex, P in V, dirty talk, name-calling/degradation, spanking, unprotected sex, brief crying during sex, rough fucking, creampie.
**no actual use of ‘Y/N’ in this fic.
prompts:
“Scream for me. I want everyone to know who’s making you feel good.”
“Tell me how much you like this. Tell me how good I make you feel!”
(boxing ring graphic divider by @firefly-graphics)
Typewriter keys clack and the typical early evening haze of cigarette smoke hangs thick in the air as your heels clink on the cheap floors of the Colorado Springs Police Department.
You’ve been here almost a month now, fully intertwined with a group of disgusting, pathetic backwater racists. It’s exhausting work, really, but what’s arguably equally as exhausting is having to pretend to be married to the one person that you can’t stand the most out of everyone in this town.
Working with Detective Zimmerman on this case has been quite the task and he’s really been testing your patience in recent days. He’s been especially grumpy, short-tempered, and just overall intolerable.
He probably just needs a good fuck or two to get some stress out, that’s your guess, and you would offer your assistance since the first time was so pleasurable for both parties. But the two of you have yet to bring it up or discuss what happened on that night, and that hookup was already risky enough, so it’s probably best not to chance it again.
“Here.”
You hold a folder out for him.
“ID’s on the unknowns from last week’s meeting at Felix’s.”
He crushes out his cigarette.
“Ron takes care of all the intel stuff.”
“I already gave him a copy. Chief’s got one, too. I’ve got a folder on my desk, and now so do you. You’re welcome.”
Smirking, you put it down on his desk and tap it with a soft chuckle.
“When will you learn that I actually do my fuckin’ job, Detective? You’ll never catch me off my game, so just stop trying; you’re starting to look a little pathetic.”
His jaw clenches as he shoves the folder out of the way angrily, shaking his head. You walk away, always enjoying delivering a nice little manly ego blow to the proud Detective.
When quitting time rolls around and you walk out of the station, Detective Zimmerman is still at his desk, a fact you find a bit surprising but you figure that the Chief has finally gotten on his ass about catching up on all the clerical paperwork he’s been swearing he’ll ‘get around to’.
The harsh winter winds whips your cheeks raw as you rush to your car across the lot, quickly getting in and turning on the engine. Just as you go to switch your headlights on after a few minutes, you notice the Detective emerge from the station in a ball cap with a dufflebag in his hand.
Your eyebrows furrow at the suspicious sight. You don’t recall ever seeing him in a hat, other than for a Klan meeting--
Wait. Is he going to something Klan-related without you?
You huff, chuckling sarcastically and shaking your head.
“Oh, not on my watch, Detective prettyboy.”
He pulls out of the station and you trail him slowly, not wanting him to catch on. You wanted to catch him off-guard, since he clearly didn’t spot you in the parking lot.
Soon, he pulls off into a warehouse complex and you drive by it purposely, circling back around a few minutes later. You’re not sure exactly why the Klan would be having a meeting or event of any kind in a dingy warehouse, but at this point, you wouldn’t be surprised by anything.
People that do shit around here are the kinds of people that don’t want to be found out. And they certainly don’t want to stop their crusade anytime soon.
Flip’s truck is parked with several other cars by a warehouse that’s got some lights on. You park far enough away not to draw suspicion and reach back for your pre-packed emergency street clothes, slipping them on quickly along with your fake wedding band before getting out of the car.
You make your approach cautiously, in the rare case that this isn’t a Klan meeting. And the closer you get to the building’s entrance, and the louder the cheers get, you’re starting to think that this might not be a Klan meeting...
Not that you knew exactly what you were expecting to see when you opened the doors in the first place, but the scene you end up coming across is not at all what you expected.
In the middle of the warehouse appears to be a boxing octagon, one definitely not up to any kind of safety regulations. And around it is a very large and very rowdy crowd of betters watching two sweaty guys rough each other up real good.
You’re not really sure what to think at this point. Why in the world would Flip be coming here? Surely you’d have heard about an undercover operation around the bullpen if there was one, and Flip always makes some kind of comment about it to ruffle your feathers...and he didn’t do any of that this time.
He’s not going rogue, is he? Maybe doing some vigilante justice work off the clock? You can’t say you’d be all that surprised if he was, but Detective Zimmerman was, if nothing else, a damn good law enforcement officer. It’d be out of character for him, certainly, and it’d be stupid as hell, for sure...but you could see it.
Now incredibly curious about why he’s at this underground fight club, you stick around for a little bit, staying off to the side. The fighters keep coming, and they keep getting beat up, and you keep your eyes peeled for any sign of Flip.
Nothing.
Just as you start to give up on the idea, the crowd suddenly gets quieter when a beefy guy stuffed in a halfway decent suit goes to the middle of the ring and starts announcing the next fight.
Your attention is most certainly piqued at this abrupt change of pace, and you’re even more intrigued when a familiar figure emerges from the locker room in a plain white tank top and a pair of boxing trunks.
The crowd roars when Flip comes onto the mats with a slight, cocky smirk, heading over to his corner of the arena to start getting ready for the match.
Detective Zimmerman, prize fighter in an illegal underground fight club.
You laugh softly to yourself just at the thought, shaking your head as you step up a bit, making yourself a bit more visible. Well, you figure as long as you’re here, you might as well make a fun evening out of it and stick around for the fight.
His opponent seems a bit...scrawny and probably doesn’t stand a damn chance against the seasoned cop. Flip throws a few practice punches once he’s got his gloves on, then the two head to the center for the start.
During the fight, Flip is composed and restrained, like he is on the front lines as the scrawny young man immediately lunges forward and starts throwing sloppy punches. He dodges every single one with ease, then delivers a swift kick to the kid’s calf.
In the small window between the kid taking the recent blow to the calf and rising back up, Flip manages to give him a nice right hook, the force of which sends him back with a grunt.
Flip quickly pushes this kid and slams him up against the ropes, which has the crowd roaring like crazy. He manages to throw a few additional punches, which certainly manages to rattle this kid enough to temporarily slow his retaliations down.
When Flip happens to look up over the ropes for a fleeting moment, his eyes widen and he freezes up when he meets your gaze. You give him a big ol’ smirk, offering him a taunting wave. He snarls.
“Oh, son of a bi--”
Suddenly, his gaze is forcefully ripped away from yours when the kid delivers a blow to the Detective’s handsome face, leaving a bloody cut on his cheekbone. The crowd hoots and hollers in frustration as the favorite fighter is momentarily taken off his game, but ever the veteran and skilled officer, he’s quickly snapped back to focus.
You can’t deny that seeing him like this, sweaty, bloodied and throwing fierce punches, isn’t somewhat erotic. His previously-white tank top is now almost soaked through with sweat, stained with blood and a bit of excess dirt from the mats, which only shows off his impressive physique even more.
And now that he knows you’re here, he seems to elevate his performance even further, the primal instinct of showing off and impressing you clearly flowing his upped game.
He’s aggressive, relentless, feral, yet still remains reformed, the skills melting pot that seems to get the job done. Within five minutes, he’s got this kid tapping out. The crowd’s loud cheers bounce off the high ceilings and echo through the warehouse, but Flip doesn’t seem to give a shit.
As soon as he gets his gloves off, he hops the ropes and makes a beeline for you, not even waiting to get his wounds cleaned up. Everyone gives him pats on the back as he pushes through the crowd.
Your eyes follow him, stance unchanging and unmoving. You wear a small smirk the whole time he approaches, and even still when he finally stands before you.
“You’re fucking insane.”
He growls.
“What, you tailed me or something?”
You nod.
“That’s exactly what I did, genius. Saw you in the parking lot with your little hat on and a duffle, and I thought maybe you were doing...the thing without me. Then I got here, figured it wasn’t the thing but thought I’d stick around and watch the great Fl--”
His hand quickly covers your mouth and he leans in.
“Don’t use that fuckin’ name.”
He sighs, instantly regretting the decision to use his real name around here.
“It’s...Phil.”
“Phil?”
You laugh, pushing his hand away.
“What are you, a suburban dad? 'Hey Phil, can I borrow your barbecue this weekend? I’m havin’ a cookout on the cul de sac.’ Oh my god, that’s too fucking good.”
His jaw clenches at your ‘dad’ impression and teasing, suddenly grabbing your arms. His grip is firm as he leans in real close, voice low.
“Wait until all these goons are distracted with the next fight, then make your way back to the locker rooms. Don’t get your ass caught, cause I’m not bailing you out.”
“Don’t worry, I think I can handle myself, Philly."
You smirk, letting out a breathy chuckle as he pulls away with a scowl.
He lets you go with a huff, shaking his head.
“You’re an ass.”
“See you in a bit.”
You say after him, chuckling at the way his fists clench.
When you get to the locker rooms, Flip’s waiting by the entrance with a cigarette between his teeth. You hum casually as you stand next to him, leaning back against the wall.
“You’re fucking stupid for doing this. I hope you know that.”
“I’m not dirty, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
He says after a moment, blowing smoke out his nose.
“But I’m not involved with them, I just fight. I show up, I beat the shit out of some guys, and then I go home. No money, no drugs, nothing.”
You chuckle, shaking your head.
“I thought you were smarter than this, Det--Phil. You’re just plain stupid if you think you’re not involved, even if you are just fighting for fighting’s sake.”
A pause.
“You gonna turn me in?”
“No.”
You say.
“We may not get along and we may hate each other, but you’re a good egg and you do your job a helluva lot better than most. No reason you should lose--”
“I don’t hate you and you don’t hate me. Not really, anyway. We both know what this is.”
Your head turns to look up at him.
“Please, enlighten me.”
He laughs softly.
“It’s a game, an act. Always has been. Deep down, you know that what happened at the bar wasn’t a fluke or a lapse in judgement.”
“So then what was it?”
You ask, chewing the inside of your cheek as your heart thrums faster.
Flip crushes his cigarette out before standing in front of you, crowding you against the wall. His hands splay out on either side of your head, smoky breath wafting over your face as he looks down at you.
“It was the result of feelings.”
His words sends a shiver down your spine.
“Mutual feelings.”
You let out a soft, shaky breath as you look into his darkening eyes. Your heart is beating out of your chest, skin suddenly feeling suffocatingly hot.
“Yeah? Then why hasn’t it happened since then?”
He smirks, turning his head so that his lips are right next to your ear.
“Because we needed to hate each other again first, didn’t we, Fed? Had to put on our little show, let it build and build and build until we found ourselves in a situation like this.”
Your body betrays you, a soft whimper leaving your lips as he stands up straight with a big cocky grin on his face.
“The night’s still young...why don’t you come back and help me clean up?”
You nod with a small smirk.
“Lead the way.”
A thin fog of steam surrounds your bodies, fogging the cracked mirror over the sink as yours and Flip’s lips move together desperately. He’s got you lifted up and pinned against the wall, hands kneading and occasionally smacking the skin of your now-bare outer thighs and ass.
He grunts softly, grinding his hardening shaft against your bare heat, smirking each time your hips jerk with his motions.
“I have to admit,”
Flip hums, drawing back for a moment.
“This is one of my better post-fight cool downs.”
You chuckle, giving him a playful nudge.
“Well, I’d hope so, considering it normally involves having your wounds treated.”
“Perhaps that wasn’t as much of a compliment as I’d intended it to be...”
He laughs.
“I know it’s probably very hard for you to compliment me, so I’d consider this a successful effort.”
Flip chuckles and your lips smash against his once again, fingers threading through his sweaty, slightly matted hair. He smiles against your lips before pulling you off the wall and carrying you over to the shower, fingers lazily kneading your ass cheeks.
The water is soothingly hot as Flip steps into the locker room shower, setting you back down gently while never parting lips. He hums, craning his neck to lazily mouth and nip at your throat.
“Hands behind your back and stick your ass out, Fed.”
You get into position and while one hand holds your wrists together behind your back, the other lines himself up with your soaked entrance. Without warning, he thrusts in quickly, fully sheathing himself inside you with a soft grunt.
“Shit.”
Your walls stretch to accommodate the girthy intrusion, fists clenching.
He smirks, making sure he’s got a firm hold on you before beginning to roll his hips at a teasingly slow pace. You huff at his teasing, taking matters into your own hands as you begin fucking yourself on his shaft, shuddering at the feeling.
“Impatient tonight, aren’t we?”
He asks, shaking his head and giving your ass a swat.
“Can’t even wait to get fucked by my cock, she has to start fucking herself...I didn’t realize my cock was that good, Fed.”
“Just fuck me for Christ’s sake, Flip.”
You hiss, looking over your shoulder as best you can.
With a hum, he massages your hip with his free hand.
“Mmm...I think you’re doing juuuust fine like this. Keep it up.”
Your eyes narrow and you groan softly.
“Do you always have to be such a dick about everything?”
“Hey, you started it by being an impatient little slut. I’m just bein’ fair, Fed. You’d do the same damn thing if the roles were reversed and we both know it.”
Touche.
You continue moving yourself up and down on his stiff rod, breathy whimpers and soft grunts slipping between pursed lips. He hums with a smirk as he watches you, slowly beginning to move his own hips in-time with your motions.
“Fuuuuck, fuckin’ tight cunt.”
He growls, beginning to fully roll his hips.
“So good wrapped around me, can’t help but start fucking your little pussy.”
His hands release your wrists and quickly grip onto your shoulders as he fucks you hard. You gasp, eyes rolling back into your head.
“D-Damnit...fuck...”
“Scream for me. I want everyone to know who’s making you feel good.”
He snarls, pounding you harshly.
“C’mon Fed, you can do better than that. Open that slut mouth and scream my fuckin’ name.”
Your walls clench, a shaky moan escaping your lips.
“Flip, Flip...”
Skin smacks against each other, the loud noise surrounding your colliding bodies as he gives your ass another quick swat.
“Yeah, that’s it. Scream out my name like the little whore you are, Fed.”
He spanks you again, and again, and you’re a fucking mess beneath him. Your thighs begin to shake violently as you try to hold yourself up, tears of sheer pleasure swelling in your eyes.
“F-Flip!”
You gasp loudly.
“God, fuck, fffuck...!”
His pace suddenly increases twofold and he’s grunting with each thrust, grip tightening on your shoulders.
“Tell me how much you like this. Tell me how good I make you feel!”
“Christ, ohhh! Fuck, Flip, feels so good!”
You’re moaning, now, not holding back your noises.
He groans, drilling you as hard as he possibly can.
“You like my cock, don’t y-you, Fed? Love getting fucked by my b-big cock, huh?”
“Yes, y-yes, I like it!”
Your orgasm is quickly brewing, cunt sloppily wet as your insides prepare for release. Flip moans deeply, feeling your rhythmic clenching.
“S-So fuuuckin’ close.”
You manage to gasp out between thrusts.
“I’m gonna cum!”
When he reaches down and starts circling your clit with his thick fingers, you know you’re in for it.
“Cum.”
Flip hisses.
“Do it F-Fed, c’mon!”
You’re flying over the edge, crying out with orgasm.
“O-Oh! Ohhh Fliiiip!”
He doesn’t last much longer, not with your velvety wet cunt gripping him like a damn vice. His eyes flutter shut as he pumps you full of cum, accompanied by a long, low groan.
“Ffffuuuuckin’ Christ...fuck.”
Both of you are breathing heavily as you slowly stand back up and he pulls out, rubbing your hips. His beard scratches your shoulder with each tender kiss placed on your warm skin.
“I almost forgot how good we are at that.”
He says, laughing softly.
You chuckle along with him.
“We are pretty good, aren’t we?”
“We are indeed, Fed.”
Flip says as he lands one last lingering kiss on your still-tingling lips.
"We are indeed."
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Summary: Following the difficult and exhausting Klan case, Detective Flip Zimmerman returns from a week long vacation to find that the station has a new secretary. Hitting it off (almost) right away, Flip and you become fast friends—despite the age gap and completely opposite personalities. When Flip falls for you, he struggles to push his feelings back to protect a friendship he’s come to rely on more than he realizes. Some things, however, are simply inevitable.
Imagine being Flip's cute little housewife. Like, just imagine wearing cute dresses around the house, just flitting around the kitchen barefoot in the mornings in your pajamas. You pack his lunch for him, tucking a cute little note in to remind him that you love him and that he needs to drink some water, not just coffee.
That being said you fill his thermos with coffee, adding a generous squeeze of chocolate syrup to it. He doesn't like sugar or creamer, but he's a sucker for chocolate in his coffee.
By the time he's showered and ready for work, you have breakfast on the table and his lunch all packed up. Flip's favorite breakfast is hash browns, biscuits, eggs and sausage with a healthy portion of gravy on the side. He can't eat that every day (which you lovingly remind him) but you make it once a week just for him.
Flip always insists on helping you with the dishes, even if he's running late for work. "They can hold the fort down for the ten minutes it'll take me to help you out, darlin."
While he does the dishes, you toss a load of laundry in the washer, and then hand him his lunchbox and thermos, kissing him goodbye for the day.
Sometimes he forgets his thermos, and you swing by the police state and drop it off at his desk (along with a few cookies from the bakery you get bread from). Flip likes it when you do that, because he gets to show you off infront of his co-workers for a few minutes.
When Flip gets home, he likes to pause at the front door as he takes his booths off, sniffing the air to try and guess what's for dinner.
On the days when he smells matzo ball soup and brisket, he nearly sprints to the kitchen to shower you in kisses. He has his favorite meals, and whenever you make them he goes a bit overboard with the affection. I doubt you mind though, who doesn't want some extra attention from him?
Hi there! I have a horrible memory from PTSD can you tell me if I've already submitted a request to you from this blog? If I haven't, would it be okay to request a blurb with Flip dating a reader who has anxiety and likes when he holds her and whispers praise to her on her bad days?
Hello! 🥰
You haven’t submitted a request before, and even if you had I’d be glad to write for you over and over. I know how hard anxiety can be, and bad days where nothing seems to help. Good thing our gruff surly man has a soft spot for us ;-)
You are strong as hell even when you feel the most weak, empress!! ♥️ I hope the following little blurb gives you at least one warm and fuzzy.
Today had been bad. Not like ‘this sucks but I can power through’ bad, but bad like every single thing was setting you off. You hadn’t been able to eat, the pit in your stomach only getting tighter with each moment. Each moment that seemed to last an hour. You had to leave work early because the phone ringing over and over was bringing you to tears, the fear of having to answer them making you nauseous.
You had been curled in your bed for hours now, only able to peel your pants from your legs before crawling into your safe spot. It smelled like both you and your boyfriend Flip, which just his smell you found bringing you closer to ground control, but by bit.
It was dark when he finally came home, but you couldn’t find the energy in you to meet him at the door. You were so exhausted; mentally and physically. The thought of dinner never once crossed your mind, only focusing on your breathing and counting down the seconds until Flip was back home to you.
You hear his heavy footsteps slowly climb the stairs of your small home, and you only heard him clicking his tongue at your state before silently crawling in next to you, leaning back on the headboard. He scoops you into his lap without a word and squeezes you so tight. At first he doesn’t say anything; he knows it helps to just be held tightly by him. His lingering smell on the sheets pales in comparison to inhaling at the source in the crook of his neck. The tightness of his hold mixed with his scent of aftershave, coffee, and cigarettes makes you feel so safe, so loved. You feel your muscles start to loosen and your breath deepen. Flip also feels the slow shifting of you beginning to relax and kisses your head before gruffly whispering to you “You are so strong, Honey. I’m so proud of you, regular days and bad days.” He starts softly stroking your arm with one of his thumbs wrapped around you. “Thank you for letting me be here for you, Sugar. You work so hard and it really shows, even days like today.” You burrow deeper into him, as deep as you possibly can, knowing you’re safe here with him. He holds you for a long while and when you seem to be really relaxed he takes you into the bathroom to draw a hot bath where all you have to do is lay there and let him care for you.
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...
Please tell us more about tongue fucking and beard burn with Flip 😍
I would gladly love to!
Flip loves eating you out.
If he can get his head between your thighs when you two are home, he’s all for it.
He thought about shaving once, and you asked him not to. Simply for the fact of how his facial hair feels when it rubs against your thighs.
And maybe Flip turns that up once he knows how much you like it. He makes sure he gets to rub against you as much as he can when he’s licking your folds and sucking on your little nub.
And sometimes he really gets into it. His tongue moves in unison with the fingers he has in you. Right beside them. He’s licking and fucking you with that pretty tongue of his and it has you arching your back with curled toes.
It’s one of his favorite activities of the day. And hearing you moan his name when you cum and seeing how red your thighs are from the stubble of his beard is all the reward he needs.
