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jrcashwrites · 5 years

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Clyde Logan Headcanons

For @ravenj84

Consider this a very belated birthday present that I couldn’t get finished in time (shocking right?). Love you to bits <3

- Clyde has always been quiet about his time in the military, especially about the events surrounding the loss of his arm. Only Jimmy and Mellie knew the full story, but you had heard bits and pieces here and there. Roadside bomb, him almost making it back from deployment unscathed if it wasn’t for that damn Logan curse that hung over the family. Often when Clyde was nervous or unsure of something, he would run his thumb over the outline of the dark tattoo on his arm. You always wondered the meaning behind it, sneaking glances at it occasionally when Clyde was busy mixing a drink with his sleeves rolled up. The ink was faded and worn and you were never quite able to make out the lettering surrounding it. It wasn’t until one night when Clyde woke with a start, breathing heavy as thunder rumbled in the distance that he finally told you everything. Holding him close as he rested his head on your chest, you carded your fingers through his hair as he told you how afraid he was signing the paperwork when he enlisted, figuring there wasn’t a better option for himself if he stayed in West Virginia. Jimmy got to go off to the state school on a football scholarship, which made his Ma proud until he blew out his knee. Mellie and Clyde stayed behind to care for her as her health began to fail. After her passing, Clyde felt aimless and had nothing besides his trailer and his truck to his name. “It was sign up or go down in the mines, and I ain’t ever liked the dark no matter how good the boys down at the bar said the paycheck was. They wouldn’t be drinkin’ the way they do if it was such a good life.” Clyde told you once he got through basic training, he rather liked military life on base and moved quickly through the ranks into special forces. He knew part of his job was to go overseas, and at first, was excited at the idea of going. A dark look crossed his face as he trailed off, looking up with you with hurt in his eyes. Leaning down, you pressed a kiss to his cheek, a quiet assurance that he didn’t need to explain to you what he had been ordered to do. He had killed, the count you didn’t know, but the fleeting vacant look of him trying to shove the memory back deep down to where he kept them told you enough. Continuing, he told you of how happy he was when his deployment was finally over, the feeling of elation he felt as he boarded into the convoy to head towards the airport. He had thought about the endless rolling hills of his home, how the green seemed to go on forever and how much he had missed the foggy West Virginia mornings as he watched the flat expanse of sand whiz by out the humvee window. The last thing he remembered was a flash of light and his lungs filling with smoke as the roadside bomb ripped through the convoy. A searing pain ripped through his body before the world went black. Waking up days later in a hospital, he faded in and out of consciousness, unsure of if he was dead or alive, faint images of mountains spotting his vision. “When I finally came to” Clyde recounted, “I remember tryin’ to grab onto to somethin’ and my hand wasn’t there to grab onto nothin’. It was just all a bunch of gauze and tape.” Your heart broke as Clyde held onto bit of his arm with his good hand, rubbing at the scars. “It still hurts sometimes, like the pain is still shootin’ down my arm.”

- Despite Clyde’s injury, he was determined to live his life as normally as possible. Aside from Jimmy’s entire cauliflower plan and all that came along with it, Clyde kept to himself and was a simple man. He never asked for help, instead wordlessly coming into the kitchen as you fried up bacon and eggs in the evening before he went to Duck Tape with a button down shirt undone, hanging open, exposing a bare strip of his chest. Turning the stove off, you would silently do up the buttons, smoothing down the fabric once they were fastened, smiling at the handsome man before you. “All that for me?” Clyde would ask as he opened a cabinet to take out two plates for the both of you. Taking the faded china from him, you scooped up a heavy spoonful of scrambled eggs and strips of bacon from the pans on the stove, plopping them onto Clyde’s plate. Stealing a bit of bacon from him, you took a bite. “I’ve rather taken a liking to crispy bacon lately.”

- Clyde has always had a lifelong love of reading. As a child, while Jimmy and Mellie would watch television or rough house in the living room with one another, Clyde would tuck himself away in a corner with a book in his lap. While he never disliked school, he often found the lessons boring and the only highlight was the weekly trip to the library. He would pick out a towering stack of books to check out, while the rest of his class would only take one or two. At first, the school librarian questioned the quiet boy with a mop of dark hair if he was able to read all of his selections in the week before they were due back. He promised her he would, and from then on, she would allow Clyde to take home more than the allowed limit each week.

- His love of reading followed him into adulthood, although he now has less free time to do so. Has an overflowing bookshelf of all sorts of literature from mysteries to classics, along with various stacks of books on his coffee table and next to his bed. During slow hours at the bar, he often makes himself comfortable on a stool to try and read a few chapters before the night picked up again. He would always tell you about the current thing he was reading when you would stop by after work, catching himself as he rambled on about whatever tale of adventure he was currently engrossed in. At first he would be embarrassed that he had just wasted your evening telling you about a story of a lowly writer and his friend who journeyed into the unknown wilds, but your smile and enthusiasm put him at ease. “That sounds like a fantastic story, Clyde” you would tell him. “Could I borrow it when you are finished?”

- You were surprised to find one day that tucked away amongst Clyde’s collection was a vintage hardcover copy of “Pride and Prejudice.” Clyde found you on the couch, thumbing through the aged pages, taking in the beauty of the book. Sitting down next to you, Clyde took the book from your hands. “You know stories are much better when ya read ‘em rather than just leafin’ through ‘em.” Curling yourself into Clyde’s side, he began to read to you, his low timber smoothly punctuating the words you have read yourself so many times before. Clyde softly smiled as he read Darcy’s words aloud to you “You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”

- After the heist, Clyde had more money than what he knew what to do with, but was incredibly careful about spending it. At the insistence of Jimmy, he finally called in a professional to rid the attic of the bar of the squirrels that had taken up resistance there years ago. “They never hurt nobody.” Clyde insisted every time Jimmy brought the subject up. “Let Sadie up there for a bit. Kid’s got a hell of a shot.” Finally, he gave in after one of the more adventurous rodents chewed through a speaker wire, cutting off “Night Moves” right before Clyde’s favorite part. Braving the googles, he found a local company that specialized in humane rodent control and finally cleared the bar of the critters.

- Jimmy and Mellie took a liking to you immediately. They hadn’t seen Clyde happy in a long time. Both his brother and sister had long resigned themselves to that Clyde was going to remain single well into old age. Aside from occasional looks from drunken bachelorette parties that would end up at the bar, which Clyde ignored, he didn’t get much attention. He refused to try online dating, even after Mellie tried to set him up a profile. “If there’s a lady for me, she’ll come around on her own good time, not through some computer” Clyde would say repeatedly, until Mellie finally gave up on the idea. When he first met you, he didn’t give much thought to why a pretty lady was talking to him, rather enjoying your company while sitting out on the porch of Duck Tape sipping bourbon together. After a few weeks, you finally told Earl to scram for a bit, leaving you and Clyde alone. “I like talking to you Clyde Logan” you told him as the sun dipped behind the mountains and the first few fireflies of the night began to illuminate the trees. “I like you a lot actually.” You could have sworn even in the low light that you saw Clyde blush, but he finally reciprocated with a shy “I like you an awful lot too.” From then on, you two were nearly inseparable.

- Mellie would often come over on her days off, plopping Clyde down at the kitchen table to trim his hair and chat with you. She’d tell you stories of when she was in cosmetology school how Clyde was the only one with long enough hair to practice roller sets and finger waves on, often leaving him with ridiculous looking styles he would have to shower to get rid of. “He drew the line at a perm” she told you “Nearly failed my state boards because of this big lug not lettin’ me make him curly.” Clyde would groan, trying not to move too much as Mellie snipped at his locks. “She made me look like a damn poodle."

- Never one for flashy things, Clyde instead let the heat die down before purchasing a small cottage out in the mountains. Surrounded by few acres of land, Clyde used his off days from the bar to clear the overgrown yard, the thought of one day being able to start a little vegetable garden with you in the back of his mind. As the weather turned colder, he moved to working on the inside of the house, refinishing the hardwood floors and gutting the kitchen, surprising you one day. “Always liked your cookin’. Now you got a place to do it that ain’t my little trailer no more” Clyde admits as you step into the room, awed at the fact Clyde had spent his days, with help, hanging new cabinets and installing a big farmhouse sink

- Clyde would make sure that the bar was covered two days a week so he could spend time with you. Even though he didn’t need to work, with the heist money more than enough to tie him over for years to come, it gave him a sense of purpose and something to do. Despite the bar hours, you were always his priority, and while you never asked for it, Clyde liked surprising you with little things: your favorite candy that he noticed while checking out at the Grocery Castle or a bouquet of fresh flowers next to the bed to wake up to. One of his favorite things to do with you was going to the drive-in theater a county over. He’d pack extra blankets and put them in the bed of his truck so you both could lay together and watch movies on the big screen. He liked the feeling of you curled up at his side as you both watched whatever the double feature of the week was.

#clyde logan #clyde logan/reader #clyde logan x female reader #clyde logan x reader #clyde logan headcanon #clyde logan headcanons #logan lucky #headcanons

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jrcashwrites · 5 years

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Camping

Pairing: Flip Zimmerman x Female Reader

Warnings: Lemons ahoy!

A/N: Thank you always to lovely @ravenj84

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s gonna be worth it, trust me.”

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

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

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

“Is he cute?”

“Oh, very much so.”

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

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

“Worth the hike?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not bad for a city girl.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I do.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck! Flip, please!”

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

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

“Careful what you wish for sweetheart.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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jrcashwrites · 5 years

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tfw you’re writing and your fic is turning into something you didn’t intend it to be

tfw you’re writing and a character says something you didn’t expect them to say and it sort of opens up a new plot point you’re going to have to resolve now by the end of the fic

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jrcashwrites · 5 years

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Would be happy to write something!

GingerPilot Week 2019?

Is anyone planning a GingerPilot week this year? I know that @general-of-gringrotts planned an awesome one last year, and I didn’t want to intrude if there were already plans to do one. If not, I’d love to organize one with the rest of the fan community, whoever wants to join in, whether you’re writing or organizing or both.

@praemonitor @silly-jellyghoty @the-armitage-hux @interstellardroiddogdaddy @neverforgetstarkiller @gamebird @gingerpilot @captainx-camino @gingerpilotforever @icedaquarius31 @gingersnapsandflyboys @garnetsun @threewinterssnow @jrcashwrites @nogoatshere @gunitneko4real(I’ve probably forgotten people - nothing personal, just hard for me to remember all the usernames - so feel free to reblog/retag to signal boost to others who might be interested.

#gingerpilot #poe x hux

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jrcashwrites · 5 years

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All the love to @ravenj84 ❤️ This was an absolute blast to write with you.

This was an absolute thrill to collaborate with my girl @jrcashwrites!

Love you boo. <3

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Girls (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Adam Sackler/Reader Characters: Adam Sackler Additional Tags: Alpha/Omega, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Filthy Summary:

Spring has sprung in New York and your heat arrived earlier than expected colliding head-on with your neighbor, Adam Sackler’s rut.

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An Adam Sacker x Reader a/b/o fic inspired by NIN’s “Closer.” And, yes, this is very much smut for smut’s sake because who doesn’t just want to be f****d like an animal? ;)

#adam sackler x reader #adam sackler x female reader #adam sackler #a/b/o #lemon #adam sackler x you #a/b/o verse #alpha/omega

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jrcashwrites · 5 years

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#it really is #research everything write nothing 😂

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jrcashwrites · 5 years

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Me: I’m going to write!

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jrcashwrites · 5 years

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whoa, your Flip hcs are great! thanks for sharing with us

Thank you!

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jrcashwrites · 5 years

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2018 Masterlist

I didn’t write/publish nearly enough this past year, but it was a year of trying new things. Here’s to much more in 2019.

* Contains smutty stuff

Jim Mason x Reader (The Tribes of Palos Verdes)

Stay

Michael Langdon x Reader (American Horror Story: Apocalypse)

Awaiting the Blood Moon *

Poe Dameron x Armitage Hux (Star Wars)

If I Ever Leave This World Alive

Holiday Headcanons

Armitage Hux (Star Wars/Peter Rabbit crossover)

Lousy Lepi

Clyde Logan x Reader (Logan Lucky)

Mistletoe

Leavin’ (Part One) *

Leavin’ (Part Two) *

Mornin’ *

Time Out

Han x Leia (Star Wars)

I’m Crazy About You

Kylo Ren (Star Wars)

Vampire! Kylo Alphabet *

#masterlist #jrcashspeaks #jrcashwrites #jim mason x reader #michael langdon x female reader #gingerpilot #poe dameron x general hux #clyde logan x reader #kylo ren x reader

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jrcashwrites · 5 years

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Flip Zimmerman Headcanons

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

NSFW under the cut

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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