Pairing: Flip Zimmerman x Reader
Word Count: 1,181
Warnings: Smut, guns, cigarettes, smoking, swearing
Author's Note (Trigger Warning): Though this imagine romanticizes guns and cigarettes, please be aware that I personally support gun control and I believe smoking, in reality, is incredibly disgusting. This is in no way meant to promote either of these things, but since this is a work of fiction, please don't be offended by their use in my story. If you don't wish to read about these things, don't read any further.
***
It's been a long day. You pull the key out of your front door once it's unlocked, and you hang your coat on the hook in your entryway before toeing off your boots and entering your apartment that you share with your boyfriend, Flip. You're exhausted from work, with the customers at the restaurant you work at being more demanding and unreasonable than usual. You've been looking forward to seeing Flip all day, and you know that once you've had a kiss hello from him, you'll feel a lot better.
You enter your kitchen to see him cleaning his pistol at the dining room table. He's a cop, so it's not unusual to see him cleaning his gun at the end of the day. Once he hears your soft footsteps on the floor, he looks up to see you walking toward him, and a smile finds its way onto his face.
"Hey angel, how was your day?" You simply shrug and he gets the idea, sympathetic to the struggles that come with a job in customer service. He moves to grab the lit cigarette resting in an ashtray and takes a long drag before motioning you to come over to him. You smile and dash over, straddling his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck, his occupied with a cigarette in one and his pistol in the other.
He rests his elbow on the table and stretches up a little to trap your lips in a long, loving kiss, like he's trying to suck the stress right out of your body. Your hand lifts to tangle in his hair, and you pull gently, causing him to groan against you.
"Why don't we get you relaxed, princess?" He suggests, his breath slightly unsteady. You smile against his jaw as you've begun peppering it with gentle, teasing pecks, and nod eagerly. He moves to put out his cigarette and place the gun on the table, but you stop him.
"Is that loaded?"
"No, why?" You smile lightly and cast your eyes down. You can't believe you're about to ask him to do this.
"Keep it in your hand. The cigarette too." He shoots you a questioning look, but nods in agreement before you move off his lap. You begin to strip for him, unbuttoning your shirt first, then dropping your skirt so you're just in your matching bralette and panties. He stares attentively as he continues to smoke, taking a quick drag with every article of clothing that you remove, showing him more skin that makes his mouth water and his eyes dilate.
You pull the bralette off and drop your panties, and walk slowly toward him, taking the cigarette from between his fingers and putting it to your lips, sucking lightly as you inhale. His eyes are glued to you, and once you hand it back to him, you get on your knees before him and begin to unbuckle his belt. You pull his jeans off his hips, and with a little help on his part, you let them pool at his ankles and straddle his hips once more, this time with nothing separating the two of you.
He taps some ashes off into the ashtray before you line yourself up with him and begin to lower yourself down. The stretch sends shivers up your spine, and they intensify when you feel the cold metal of the pistol against the skin of your back once he wraps his arm around you. He groans when you lift up and drop back down, beginning to unbutton the flannel separating you from the smooth skin of his muscular chest. You only pull it open so you can run your hands down the length of his torso, which makes him buck up slightly, hitting that oh-so-sensitive spot inside of you that makes you whimper in pleasure.
"Fuck, you're doing so well for me, sugar." You moan at his praise, pulling his hair gently as the cold silver moves against your back. You continue to ride him, quickening the pace gradually until you're both overwhelmed with pleasure, his cock hitting all the right places inside of you and your core tightening around him with every strangled groan that leaves his lips. You love when he's a little desperate, and the fact that he's restrained in the sense that he can't caress your skin, gives you a bit of an edge over him; some rare control over such a dominant man. It lights a peculiar kind of fire within you.
You decide to cut him some slack, and take the cigarette from his hand to take another drag, meanwhile, allowing him to grab onto your ass as you bounce on him. He pulls you a little bit closer, attaching his lips to one of your nipples and suckling on it, making you cry out in pleasure. You swivel your hips and he releases you with a 'pop', his hot breath fanning against your wet skin as he moans breathily at the sensation.
You're both extremely close to your orgasms, and at this point, you're desperate to feel him fill you up completely. You put out the nearly finished cigarette and gently take the pistol from his hand, setting it down carefully on the table. He immediately wraps his strong arms around you, pulling you close and reaching up to kiss you, which you eagerly reciprocate. The kiss you share is hungry, and his hands are indulgent as he grasps your skin and memorizes the curves of your hips and your chest. You tug on his hair, because you know he only needs that tiny extra push to send him reeling beneath you.
Sure enough, he does, and to make sure you come with him, he brings his hand to your clit, stroking it firmly in tight, quick circles. You cry out his name and grasp his shoulders, bouncing a little faster as you both ride out your highs.
Once you both are completely finished, he helps you off of him and makes sure you're steady standing before pulling his jeans up and buttoning them back up. He kisses you gently and picks you up, carrying you over to the counter, where he sets you carefully before grabbing a washcloth and dampening it, cleaning you up and making sure all the marks he's left on your skin are tended to.
He grabs a fresh pair of panties and a bralette from your shared bedroom, along with one of his giant t-shirts, and once he clasps on your bralette and pulls the new panties up your smooth legs that he adores so much, he pulls the shirt over your head. He helps you down off the counter and leans down to kiss the top of your head.
"I love you." He says, a satisfied smile across his features.
"I love you too, and I'm definitely relaxed now." He chuckles and pulls you closer by your waist.
"Really? The gun didn't frighten you?" You shake your head, causing him to smile. "You're always finding new ways to surprise me, sweetheart."
***
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