#blackkklansman imagine

[multific]

His World

Flip Zimmerman x Reader

Summary: When your husband arrives home later and later you start to suspect he might be cheating on you.

Flip has been gone a lot lately. Like a lot lot.

You were used to him arriving home late, him not arriving home at all, but he would always make up for it the next day. He would arrive home with the most beautiful flowers, kiss you on the cheek and keep you busy all night long.

But that just stopped.

All of that.

Flip became cold and even rude at times. You tried to understand, you truly did. He had a difficult and stressful job, you were there when he cracked the KKK, you were there through all his struggles, but something changed.

"You cooked dinner? It looks like shit." he said one day. "Maybe you should get a job instead of staying home all day." was another punch to the gut, and just as you were about to hug him to sleep, "Don't." and he pulled away, turning his back and lately, he even slept on the couch instead of staying with you.

You tried to talk to the others at the police station, but nothing.

He didn't have a major case, he was working on small things and doing mainly normal detective and cop things.

But then why?

Why did he pull away when you tried to hug him? Why did he refuse to look at you? Why would he rather sleep on the couch than in his own bed?

And then, as if a train hit you, you realized that he might have found someone else.

You two were only married for a short period of time, maybe he just doesn't want to say anything.

But... it didn't make sense to you.

Flip claimed he love you to death. He was desperate to get married to you. All he could talk about is putting a ring on your finger and then giving you a family.

So, what changed?

You went to buy groceries, trying to figure out what to do for your birthday.

But all you could think about, 'Who is she?'

Who was the person to steal your husband away? Who was the person that kept him from you?

You wanted to know, you needed to know.

Images of your husband sleeping with another woman completely clouded your mind. That's all you could think about even if she was faceless and nameless. Could it be the new woman who moved in a couple houses away? The blonde one? Or Mrs Wheeler? She is all you could think about, her fictional presence filled up your mind too much, it stopped you from doing basic tasks at times, not like he noticed that there was no dinner.

You tried to seduce him, waiting for him in skimpy clothes, cooking a romantic dinner for your birthday, but when he got home,

"Are you going out?" is all you got before he moved to shower and sleep.

A couple days later, the doctor called you, he wanted to take a blood sample as it seemed like there was something on your most recent paper.

You didn't even tell Flip, not like he cared.

And so, you went, a couple of days passed after, and you got another call.

"Good afternoon." said the kind receptionist through the phone. "I'm calling you regarding the tests we did last week. Congratulations Mrs Zimmerman, you are eight weeks pregnant!"

Pregnant?

Eight weeks?

You remember that night faintly, one of the last times you were intimate with your husband.

How can you be?

You didn't notice the signs, your mind was filled with the neglect you felt from your husband.

How would you tell him? He wouldn't even listen to a single thing you would say?

You cried, that's all you could do, cry, because you were so scared.

You thought long and hard about how to tell him during the next couple days, you even had to go back to the doctor, your baby was healthy.

But Flip didn't even know about it.

He continued to sleep on the couch as you cried upstairs.

Then weeks passed.

When you were nearing the end of your first trimester is when you really tried to tell him. Went to him when he was eating in the kitchen, late at night.

"You should be asleep, why are you up?"

"I need to talk to you, Flip."

"Another time, I'm tired."

And your first trimester ended, you started to show, you were careful with the dresses you wore. And one day, as you were walking back to your car from the store you caught a glimpse of yourself in the window of a store, seeing yourself being so sad, while this should be one of the happiest times in your life was the final draw.

Fuck it, if you have to raise a child alone, still better than this hell you were in.

So, that night, when Flip surprisingly arrived home early, you let him eat. You waited for him in the living room and as he rounded the couch to go upstairs, you had enough.

“Was she worth it?”

Your teeth clenched as you said the words you’d been dying to say to him for weeks now, but his reaction was not one you imagined when you played this in your head.

Flip stood by the stairs, one hand on the railing, ready to go up as he looked at you sitting in front of him in your favourite chair. The book in your lap is long forgotten.

He looked like a deer in the headlights but there was not an inch of guilt or surprise on his face. He didn't look like someone who was caught. He looked beyond confused.

His brows rose then knitted together in confusion as his eyes raked over your face looking for any explanation, the detective in him and the gears in his head turning to try and understand what you just meant.

Was he playing dumb or was he truly confused? You weren't even sure yourself. He must be one fucking amazing actor.

Or could it be that Flip thinks you are too dumb to figure something like this out on your own and was now in shock that you did?

Whatever it was it brought out the worst in you fueled by annoyance and frustration.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"What do I mean Flip? I mean if your little whore is worth ruining your marriage for? I mean if that woman is worth that I'm on the brick of leaving and you will never even see your own child! WAS SHE WORTH IT PHILIP?" you threw your book away.

Again, the same confusion, eyes moving on your face trying to figure it out. "I have no idea what you mean."

"Oh, you don't, do you? Why did you even marry me if you don't love me? You could have come to me, we could have talked it out, but no, instead you fell into another woman. And now, I demand to know if she was worth it, Philip." you felt like crying, sadness and anger consumed you.

"Will you just- I'm not having an affair." his hand came off the railing as he crossed them over his chest.

"Sure you don't. You arrive home late, you are incredibly rude to me, I can't even ask you to take me to the doctor's, you sleep on the fucking uncomfortable couch AND the biggest fucking punch to the gut, you are not wearing your ring."

You noticed that before the doctor even called you, you found it under the sink when you were cleaning.

"I lost it in the sink, didn't want to tell you because we cannot afford a new one."

You shook your head, you wanted to laugh as you stood up.

"I just...I give up, Flip. I don't know what else to do, what else to say or try. I'm going to leave you but before I do, I'm fourteen weeks pregnant, so congratulation to you Mr Zimmerman, you knocked me up and ruined me." you smiled at him as his eyes went wide, and you felt a tear run down your cheek but you whipped it off. He took a couple of steps towards you, you moved backwards, not letting him come close.

"Baby, why didn’t you tell me sooner?" his voice changed, as if the old Flip was talking to you but no, you didn't let that affect you.

"I tried, you ignored me. You were too busy fucking your little whore to see the signs!"

"I am NOT cheating on you. I understand why you would say that I am but I'm NOT." you shook your head again and laughed.

"Sure. And I didn't just go through the worst weeks of my life. You forgot my birthday, I dressed up for you, I cooked your favourites every day. I'm so stressed out, I cry too much, the doctor said I needed to be in a calm environment because that's the best for the baby but, Flip, you are killing me." your sad voice, tears woke something in him. Something that he hasn't felt in a long time.

"I wanted to get a promotion at work so I worked my ass off. I slept on the couch because I needed to concentrate on this. I want to get a better salary so I can buy us a bigger house. I'm so sorry I was rude to you, Honey. I was so stressed out, everyone at work has a nice house or car and I have this dump to show and that awful truck. I spent all my savings on your ring and our wedding. I want to give you a better life. I swear I'm not cheating on you with anyone. I love you." He was so calm as he explained. Eyes filled with regret.

It made sense, it really did. It made a lot more sense than a faceless lover.

"Flip..." you didn't know what to say, you now realized just how awful the things you just said sounded, like a jealous woman. It was your turn to look like a deer in headlights.

"I understand why you'd think I have someone, but I really don't. I love you, I just worked my ass off at work. I took as many small cases I could so I could get higher."

He took another step and when you didn't move away this time, he went to you and cupped your cheek with his hands as he kissed your lips.

"I'm so sorry." you said but he shook his head.

"I should apologize, this should have been avoided if I only explained everything to you instead of shutting you out, we are married after all."

He pulled you in for a hug as you moved your hands around his middle. He was stupid, he could have just said something, this was his fault, but you shouldn't have overreacted.

"I love you too." you said as he tightened his grip.

"I'm almost there, I know it."

"Will you move back to our bed please?"

"Yes." he kissed your head. "Are you really-?" he asked but as he moved his hand to your stomach he felt it. His eyes widened as he looked at you.

"You are going to be a father so you will need to talk to me more, Flip."

"Oh, Darling. I love you." he kissed your lips. "This is the best news. Better than any promotion could ever be." another kiss. "I promise I will tell you everything from now on."

You smiled, oh how he missed your smile and you nodded, leaning up to kiss him this time.

Everything went back to normal, as it should be and as it should have been.

Your belly grew with each day, and soon the doctor told you the news that you are having a girl, Flip was over the moon.

Then he even got his well-deserved promotion.

You two were ready to move into a nice house.

Life was good because you woke up every morning to him holding you like you meant the world to him, and you did.

Taglist: imreadinggoaway @fleursirvart​ @v-2bucky ehsebastiancrunch-time-sports  @pxstelrainbow ablogbypeteparker liamssmilersmexylemony @greenarrowhead​ feelingsareharddd @thisismysecrethappyplace​ @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel​ @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @avengers-r-us @destynelseclipsa   @spilledinkindumpster celebsimagine @capsiclesdoll snoopy3000 @firstangeldragonranch @puknow crazzyter  @alwayshave-faith @soleil-dor @alex12948 scream-kiwi79  @lxdyred  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @liveforkarljacobs

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

#flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman x you #flip zimmerman imagine #flip zimmerman imagines #flip zimmerman x oc #flip zimmerman x y/n #blackkklansman #blackkklansman imagine #blackkklansman imagines #blackkklansman x reader #blackkklansman fanfic #adam driver character #adam driver character x reader

[oraclechats]

I'M BACK. Life swept me away but I'm slowly listening to the eps I'm missing. Just finished the BorRap ep and I have some thoughts. First of all, I think that movie is terrible. It's bad. I saw it in theatre with my friends and I walked away thinking, eh-whatever. But I have to give the movie some merits because it did pull me in starting from the second act and I was very hyped when the First Aid scene came on. However, it's definitely super mid, verging toward terrible. So, secondly, imagine my fucking surprise when it was nominated for Best Picture. I was like, haha this is a prank, only to check the official website and see it there. HOLY shit, my jaw hit the floor. Did the US run out of movies that year for Best Picture???? Like, was there really no other movies that can take BorRaph's spot????? I had a moment just staring at the screen of my laptop and felt like I was in the Twillight Zone. (I can see Rami being nominated for Best Lead Actor tho, he was really good so I understand the nomination)

Thirdly, I caught wind of the BorRap fandom. I was taking a break from tumblr then, but it was kinda growing on twitter, that even tho I was in a very very different fandom space, I heard about it. Now hearing what I'm hearing from the podcast, quite eye-opening lmao. Like, when you discussed the fanfics... I was screaming in my head hahahahaha

Fourth, I have seen the 911 BoB/TP fic... and just not gonna click on it. Life's too short and all that.

it's especially egregious given the fact that that year was so stacked with movies that were Literally eons better than Bohemian Rhapsody. i was Literally just yelling about how that was supposed to be the year of BlacKkKlansman and instead it got double teamed by both Greenbook and BoRhap and it's truly the most disappointing shit in the world. like we can make the case rami Was the best performance in the category at the oscars but idek if I believe that anymore, given the fact that Vice was a movie i detested and Bale was still acting circles around Rami like staring wide-eyed at shit for two hours straight. not to Mention Bradley Cooper, who campaigned way too hard for Best Director when had he focused harder on trying to get Best Actor he would have been a shoo-in, and A Star is Born is Regrettably a movie that gets better every year in a way that BoRhap decidedly does not.

the globes are a joke at the best of times so the wins that night were pretty alright, but that Best Picture win and then subsequent oscar nom are just.....that chaps my ass my dudes. whole ass movie could have been written on a cocktail napkin like Showgirls (which is actually Way more fun to watch than BoRhap) 😘💃

and in regards to That 9/11 fic.....stay tuned lol

#also honey First Aid i'm obsessed but it Was Live Aid lol #a metaphor for just how forgettable that film ended up being #soundtrack though is nice lol

[ocelotegg]

help. i finally watched spike lee's blacKkKlansman last night and i loved it so today i went on here and searched it up looking for gifsets or something. the results are almost ALL sexual fanfictions and imagines about a character from the supporting cast

#post #just absolutely bizarre #search up the tag if you dont believe me #this is the website ever for sure

[ao3feed-janefoster]

Call for Requests | Fanfictions

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/wOPUf0C

by CatchYouInTheRye

I want to write more for direct requests I get, since they often drive me in a new direction - which is exciting. It can be any situation you imagine, certain smutty stuff etc. etc. All is welcome!

Words: 110, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: House M.D., Star Wars - All Media Types, Criminal Minds (US TV), Detroit: Become Human (Video Game), NCIS, White Noise (2022), Marriage Story (2019), BlacKkKlansman (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Fire Emblem Series

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other

Characters: Loki (Marvel), Thor (Marvel), Jane Foster (Marvel), Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Steven Grant (Marvel), Bruce Banner, Wanda Maximoff, James "Bucky" Barnes, Steve Rogers, Aaron Hotchner, Spencer Reid, Emily Prentiss, Jennifer "JJ" Jareau, Jason Gideon, Luke Alvez (Criminal Minds), Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala, Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa, Rey (Star Wars), Finn (Star Wars), Poe Dameron, Kylo Ren, Ben Solo, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Din Djarin, Jethro Gibbs, Anthony DiNozzo, Ziva David, Timothy McGee, Abby Sciuto, Gregory House, Lisa Cuddy, James Wilson (House M.D.), Allison Cameron, Robert Chase, Eric Foreman (House M.D.), Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Upgraded Connor | RK900, Flip Zimmerman, Charlie Barber, Jack Gladney

Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Reader, Thor (Marvel)/Reader, Jane Foster (Marvel)/Reader, Natasha Romanov (Marvel)/Reader, Stephen Strange/Reader, Aaron Hotchner/Reader, Spencer Reid/Reader, Emily Prentiss/Reader, Jennifer "JJ" Jareau/Reader, Anakin Skywalker/Reader, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Reader, Padmé Amidala/Reader, Jethro Gibbs/Reader, Anthony DiNozzo/Reader, Greg House/Reader, James Wilson (House M.D.)/Reader, Upgraded Connor | RK900/Reader, Charlie Barber/Reader, Flip Zimmerman/You, Wanda Maximoff/Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader

Additional Tags: Reader-Insert, One Shot Collection

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/wOPUf0C

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #jane foster

[destinyc1020]

Have you watched Blackkklansman? I think JDW is great in it

Well see, that's the thing! That's what's so crazy lol. Coz yea, I actually LIKED JDW in Blackkklansman! That's why I was so excited to see him in TENET!

It was a great cast, and Christopher Nolan is one of my favorite directors lol. 😂 So imagine my surprise when I watched the movie and was like.....

For some reason, he seemed to do a better job in Blackkklansman to me. 👀

[0firstlast1]

A cinema moment, in the capitalist massacre:

| Questions and Answers based on this publication:

Q: Have you seen and heard the films mentioned in this publication? A: Yes, on TV.

Q: Have you experienced anything the same or similar to what was shown in those films? A: Not the same, nor similar, I remained on the periphery of what was shown.

If I still remember, in 1984 the narcoguerrilla was a topic, whether or not it was revolutionary, no, it was not revolutionary, a drug dealer is an adventurous capitalist who only thinks about the profit that the illegal drug trade will generate for him to have a playboy life.

And if a woman is beautiful, then why is she in prostitution? My thoughts on the subject have always been the same, imagining, thinking, and putting into practice are three distinct subjects. In relation to ten months, a number analogous to a real relationship and a relationship that never existed and two impeachments, I sporadically attended professionally that temple of capitalism with a sign with initials and numbers, scrolling horizontally and vertically in graphs, and I have never witnessed anything that was similar to what was shown in that film, and also in other similar films, but the opposite of that, the person enters after authorization from top to bottom, but not to consume a Happy Moment Kit.

In the mid-nineties I made a book cover for a publisher that published books apparently about masonic indoctrination, the content of the book, which I only discovered after the book was published, it was very much in tune with the KKK supremacist rituals shown in the film BlacKkKlansman, I never wanted to be a KKK, much less be a general secretary of a KKK branch, go grow beets.

So far I have never been kidnapped, but if I were, no one would pay my ransom, and if the Armed Forces were contacted by mistake, they would say that it is the police's responsibility to free me, not to kidnap me to capitalize on resources for the evangelical mayor's election campaign, and as retaliation for the impeachment of the playboy former president of the republic, BR.

Q: Would you like to mention any music to end this very short interview based on self-management? A: I will not mention the extinct Libertação Radical nor the extinct PASSEATAS, two groups from my supremacist legacy, nor will I mention Aerosmith, nor Sepultura, or any other name that recalls mass culture, therefore: Ultraje a Rigor - Inútil. Paralamas do Sucesso - Inútil.

Q: Until the next? A: Until the next!

#0firstlast1 #Authorial Human Intelligence #Beige Lives Matter #TV #Tumblr.com #Blogger.com

[denimbex1986]

'Direct Spike Lee thinks highly of Christopher Nolan’s Oppenheimer, though he does have one major criticism. Kicking off his career with his 1986 breakout hit She’s Gotta Have It, Lee is known for his socially-conscious films like Do the Right Thing, BlacKkKlansman, and Malcolm X. Beginning his feature film career over a decade later with 1998’s Following, Nolan has become a blockbuster film director, helming The Dark Knight trilogy, Interstellar, and most recently the box office-breaking biopic Oppenheimer.

While Lee has positive things to say about Oppenheimer, the director also has one major critique. Speaking with The Washington Post, Lee commented that he “would like to add some more minutes about what happened to the Japanese people.” Lee pointed out the long-term effects that “dropping these two nuclear bombs on Japan” had on its citizens, and would have appreciated an effort by Nolan to explore this despite Oppenheimer still being a “great film.” Check out the full quote from Lee below:

“And Chris Nolan with ‘Oppenheimer,’ you know, he’s a massive filmmaker. Great film. I showed [‘Dunkirk’] in my class. And this is not a criticism. It’s a comment. How long was [‘Oppenheimer’]? If it’s three hours, I would like to add some more minutes about what happened to the Japanese people. People got vaporized. Many years later, people are radioactive. It’s not like he didn’t have power. He tells studios what to do. I would have loved to have the end of the film maybe show what it did, dropping those two nuclear bombs on Japan.”

“Understand, this is all love. And I bet he could tell me some things he would change about ‘Do the Right Thing’ and ‘Malcolm X.'”

Why Spike Lee is Right About Oppenheimer

At a staggering three-hour run time, it would seem that Oppenheimer did not have a lot of space to add more content. However, the narrative of Oppenheimer does not end with the bombs. Rather, it explores the aftermath of Hiroshima and Nagasaki filtered only through the lens of J. Robert Oppenheimer’s trauma. Oppenheimer imagines burned-up bodies, but Oppenheimer as a film stays within his psyche and does not do anything in the way of portraying actual Japanese people.

Neglecting run time to the effect on Japan is not the only notable omission in Oppenheimer. In constructing Trinity in the middle of the desert, the real characters behind Oppenheimer displaced indigenous people and moved them next to a toxic nuclear test site. As a result, these Native American people were also “radioactive” many years later. Oppenheimer makes only a brief mention of the “Indians” who lived there during Trinity’s construction.

When evaluating the film’s merits, it is important to acknowledge the way that Oppenheimer circumvents problematic aspects of history. While Oppenheimer still presents a historically-based narrative of complex and flawed morality, it still does so while eschewing the conversation of two groups of people that were majorly affected. Oppenheimer has received critical acclaim, so the fact that prominent talents like Lee are calling it out is a productive way for its narrative faults to be called out.'

#Spike Lee #Oppenheimer #Christopher Nolan #The Dark Knight Trilogy #Malcolm X #Do The Right Thing #Following #Interstellar #Dunkirk

[little-diable]

Kinktober Day 21 - Flip Zimmerman

Feedback is very welcomed, my asks are always open. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Day 21 - shower 

“Flip”, (y/n) squealed, hanging over his shoulder, dressed in nothing but one of his shirts, “put me down”, she whined, hands holding onto her husbands strong back. His deep chuckle rumbled through him, stepping into the bathroom, closing the door behind him before he sat her down on the sink, stepping in between her thighs, hands moving up her skin. She bit down on her lip, eyes wandering down his body, hooked on his growing bulge, visibly gulping as her husband pressed himself further against her chest. 

“Missed you today”, his lips ghosted over her jawline, mumbling against her skin, “missed you too”, she replied, whispering the words as she watched him turn on the shower. Her hands tugged on his flannel, unbuttoning the soft fabric, lips attaching themselves to his chest, kissing his skin, hands fumbling with his belt, tracing the outlines of his length, teasing him through the fabric of his trousers. 

His big hands cupped her behind, Flip stepped out of his trousers, his Star of David necklace glistered in the faint light, her hands moved along the pendant, smiling up at him. Flip tugged her shirt over her head, groaning as his eyes fell upon her hardening nubs, “fuck”, he mumbled, picking her up from the sink, stepping into the rather small shower. 

She had her legs wrapped around his waist, arms hung around his neck, lips moving in synch with his. Both struggled to properly fit into the shower, but always somehow managed to make it work. Flips massive frame pressed her against the tiles, hands buried into her behind, nails clawing into her flesh as he rubbed his hard length against her middle, teasing her clenching walls. 

“Don’t tease me detective”, (y/n) tugged on his necklace, puckered lips waiting to be kissed, “you look so beautiful”, his husky voice shot shivers down to her pulsing clit, “you always say that”, she chuckled, running one hand through his wet hair. “Because its always true”, he placed her down on her feet, grasping one thigh as he slipped into her heat, ripping her walls open for him to nestle between them. 

“Shit Flip, you’re so big”, (y/n) squeezed her eyes shut, deeply inhaling as her walls tried to adjust to his massive length, it would always take her a while to properly stretch around him, no matter how many times he had already claimed her that day. “Yeah?”, he loved to hear her talk, blabbering mindless things as he wrecked her, hands grasping his skin, holding onto his muscular shoulders. 

A high pitched ‘oh god’ fell from her lips as his tip teased her entrance, he wanted to take his time with her, wanted to properly feel her around his length, but the longer he stayed buried inside her wetness, the faster he felt his orgasm approaching. “You’re so good to me doll”, he sucked on her jawline, necklace dancing across her boobs, grazing her skin with every move of his. 

She felt his pace faltering, eyes closed as he snapped his centre against hers, tumbling over the edge with a deep groan, filling her with his release. Flips fingers wandered down to her clit, he kept on thrusting, set on coaxing her orgasm out of her, completely drenched by the hot water. “Let go doll”, he circled her clit, putting pressure onto the sensitive spot, parting her folds with his length. “Oh Flip”, (y/n)s orgasm overcame her, let her fall apart in his strong arms, moaning his name for him. 

“You okay?”, he kissed her forehead, watching her slightly tremble in his touch, “yeah”, she kissed his pouty lips, fingers scratching his beard, hands scrubbing his skin. “I love you doll”, he mumbled, watching her clean his body, fingers carefully dance along his skin, taking care of him, like she’d always do. 

#flip zimmerman #Flip Zimmerman imagine #Flip Zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman x you #Flip Zimmerman smut #blackkklansman imagine #blackkklansman #adam driver #kinktober #adam driver imagine

[ali-r3n]

Imagine: Ron accidentally letting it slip that he has a woman while on the phone with Walter, so him and Flip ask the only female undercover cop (and who Flip has a crush on) you, to pretend to be his wife

“I now pronounce you Mr. and Mrs. Ron Stallworth”

#flip zimmerman imagine #flip zimmerman x reader #blackkklansman imagine #blackkklansman x reader #flip x reader #flip imagine

[obscure-imagines]

“so who do i get to be?” you asked.

they both looked at you, “actually Y/N its just me on this one.” Flip said.

“what do you mean? we work best together Flip, we both know it.”

“this ones different.” he sighed, “its dangerous. i need to know you’re save or i wont be able to do my job... trust me.”

“well i can’t just do nothing.” you rolled your eyes.

“you wont. you’ll be working with Ron.”

“i hear you’re a great partner.” Ron said kindly, “looking forward to working with you.”

#flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman imagine #black klansman #black klansman imagine #blackkklansman #blackkklansman imagine #flip black klansman #flip black klansman imagine #flip zimmerman x reader #black klansman flip #black klansman flip imagine #adam driver

[mrs-gucci]

The Birthday Troll [blurb] {Flip Zimmerman x Reader}

@mrs-zimmerman

Flip is a grump on his birthday though he secretly loves the attention you give him. Just not from anyone else.

warnings. FLUFF, humor, language, Flip being a birthday troll lol. **no actual use of ‘Y/N’ in this fic.

no tw’s :)

word count: 625

You pull into the CSPD station, car smelling of Flip’s favorite brownies and of cigarette smoke, which you’re still trying to get rid of after he took your car to work one day while his was still at the body shop.

Flip hates making a big deal out of his birthday, except when you’re the one making a big deal out of his birthday. That he’s fine with; in fact, he actually finds himself looking forward to it. But he’d never admit to it out loud.

When you step into the station, platter of brownies, pint of milk and cluster of balloons in-hand, the front desk secretary smiles. She recognizes you, of course, and stands.

“Hi, hon. Unfortunately, Flip and Ron just got called out to a crime scene, but let me help you put all that down at his desk. I’ll put the milk in the fridge and I’ll make sure he gets it when he comes back.”

You frown, sighing softly and nodding. “Okay. Bummer, I was hoping to deliver it in person. But I guess that was wishful thinking on my part around here.”

Both of you chuckle together as you set everything down on Flip’s desk.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. They were here twenty minutes ago, you literally just missed ‘em.”

She takes the milk with a small smile, heading back to the break room while you arrange everything how you want it. You also clean out his desk’s ashtray, while you’re here, and put a new pack in the drawer when you notice that he’s running low.

After scribbling a quick note for him, you head back home, feeling a bit sad that you couldn’t be there to share it with him. Luckily, though, you’ve got plenty more exciting things planned for when he gets home later.

When everyone gives Flip funny looks and soft, teasing laughs as he walks back to the bullpen, he already knows something’s up. Probably Ron’s doing, he assumes, whatever it is.

He steps in and immediately catches sight of the balloons on his desk. He groans in dread.

“Rookie! What the fuck kind of fuckin’ birthday crap did you put all over my desk?”

Ron steps up next to him, eyebrows furrowed. “That’s not from me. And when are you gonna stop calling me that?”

Flip huffs, walking up to his desk with frustrated strides.  “If this was one of those new beat cops, I swear to fucking...”

Your handwritten note and the towering platter of brownies catches his eye and his words trail off as he picks it up, reading it. Your voice rings through his head with each word read, as if you were standing right there next to him reading it, and he can’t help the small smile that tugs at his lips.

“Woah, is that a smile I see from the birthday boy?” Ron teases, laughing and high-fiving a colleague as he sits down across from his partner.

“No.” He says, quickly shoving the note away in his desk drawer. “I’m just looking forward to eating these brownies.”

Just then, the secretary comes into the bullpen with the pint of milk in-hand and sets it down on his desk.

“Your girlfriend brought this along for you too, Zimmerman.”

“Awww, milk for the birthday boy’s brownies!”

Ron laughs, turning around in his chair to give an air-five to the beat cop who made the comment. Flip gives the rookie cop an unamused glare, then snatches the milk and brownies from his desk.

“Can’t even fuckin’ enjoy shit around here without getting berated.” He shakes his head, walking down the hall towards the break room.

Everyone chuckles as he walks out.

“Zimmerman smiiiiiled!”

Flip groans, looking back towards the bullpen.

“Leave me alone!!”

🎉written as part of mrs. g’s birthday week 🎉

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my general taglist peeps! @safarigirlsp @babbushka @mrs-zimmerman @dirtytissuebox @thepalaceofmelanie @einmal-im-traum @charliesahottie @gotham-city-uber-driver @gildedstarlight @cbloodmarch @voteforpedro09 @ohsolonelyghosts @astrae03 @glixxr @rynwritesstuff @emi11ie @durangoninetyfive @loganluckylover @nymphwriting flip’s taglist peeps! @goddessofsprings @icarusinthesea @lumdelacour @readingreaver @eagerforhoney @trubluepensfan @beachwoodmonet @bksrcool @1fatoou@depressedkyloren @strangunddurm @starryeddie  @justlenastuff @anythingandeverything97​

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[sith-lords-consort]

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?

#flip zimmerman/reader #flip zimmerman imagine #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman #flip x reader #blackkklansman

[beachwoodmonet]

Complications

pt. 2 of Simplicity :))

click here for pt. 1 !!

**author’s note: thank you so much for the love on pt. 1. i was able to get pt. 2 out before i move back in for university, but i’m not sure if i’ll be able to do the same for the (maybe) final part. i’d love to hear feedback this time around again :)) i also wanted to briefly mention some of the content within this part. i made an effort to discuss intergenerational trauma within the jewish community, and of course only want to do so tastefully. if anyone is uncomfortable with any part of the work, please don’t hesitate to reach out to educate me on any wrong-doings; i’d never want anything i write to offend or come across as romanticization. 

possible warnings: (super) brief mention of the KKK, (super) brief mention of hate crimes, smoking. 

6k; fluff and some angst in there as well

Even after meeting Y/N, Flip Zimmerman remains a simple man through and through; things are just a bit different now.

He still likes his coffee hot.

Ever since a couple weeks ago when you brought him coffee with his book, it’s continued to circulate in his brain, popping up in his train of thought about once a day. It is probably some of the best coffee he’s ever had, but he isn’t sure where you’d gotten it from. The cup wasn’t anything special; no logo or defining features, only a plain white cup with a piece of cardboard wrapped around so as to not burn your hand. He goes to a couple coffee shops around the area, yet he comes out of each one empty handed. Well, not literally empty handed but the coffee is shit enough that he wishes he would’ve.

He still doesn’t plan on stopping anytime soon.

Flip is still the reigning champ at complaining, of course, but you’re one of the few people who listens and listens well. When he calls to ask about a book, you’ll in turn ask how his day has been and sometimes even ask for a status update on something he previously complained about. The meant to be quick phone calls can turn into long, drawn out conversations, especially if he’s at the station late doing paperwork by himself. Thus far, he’s made an effort to get all his paperwork done on the days it’s given to him, wanting to swing by the library to pick up a book in hopes of running into you. He’s whipped and he knows it, but he’s not sure he cares.

He doesn’t like to ask for help...unless it’s from you.

Flip still considers himself to be pretty self sufficient, but asking for help is something he continues to wrestle with. That day at the library when you promised you’d help him, free of judgment, that’s when his mood really started to shift. He’s still realizing that asking for help sometimes isn't a bad thing, and you help him remove the stigma he places on himself by being reassuring and patient. There are no dumb questions when he’s around you, and it’s one of the many things he’s come to admire about you.

As fall continues to fly by into October, the atmosphere at the Colorado Springs Public Library remains calm and quiet, only less busy than usual. With the school year being in full swing, most of the patrons are retired or people stopping by to take a break from running errands. Occasionally there will be a few college students, but the majority prefer to study at the on-campus library as opposed to making the trek across town.

Thursdays have quickly become your favorite day.

Thursdays are usually the day Flip has off, and he makes it a priority to stop in for a new book and conversation. You make sure to reshelve early each morning before calling those who have books on hold waiting to be picked up. By prioritizing these things first, it means most of your time is spent at the front desk in order to assist patrons.

Today, however, is different. When you unlock the library first thing at 7:00 AM, you don’t expect to show up to the mess left from the day prior. Unfortunately for you, the last few days you have been out sick with a gnarly cold due to the changing weather. Of course this morning when your alarm clock goes off, you are considering calling your boss once more in hopes of having another sick day, only to remember it is a Thursday. You feel a bit pathetic justifying it to yourself, but you don’t get to see Flip very often now that he is working around the clock to finish up a case. Blowing your nose and taking some cold medicine, you get ready to head to work.

As you are heading out the door, you notice several people outside shoveling their driveways. Snow is fairly common this time of year, but it doesn’t make it any less annoying. Lucky for you, though, you and your next door neighbor made prior arrangements a year or so after you moved in; as long as you share whatever new recipe you are testing out with him and his wife, he mows your lawn and shovels your driveway. It is an arrangement you both are quite happy with and have continued to maintain in your years living next to one another.

You make your way to the library, taking your time when it comes to driving over ice, especially; however, you cannot say the same about when you are walking in. Nearing the door, keys in hand, you fail to notice the large patch of ice covered in part with snow. You feel your feet sweep out from under you, landing hard on your backside. Letting out a small yelp, you hold back tears before picking yourself off the ground. Your tailbone throbs as you push open the door, brushing snow and sand off your scraped up hands.

After tearfully placing your things in the backroom, taking a few ibuprofen you keep in your purse, and turning on the power within the building, you finally get the chance to assess the damage left by your coworkers. The front desk itself is a mess; books, papers, supplies, and more scattered across it as well as on the floor behind it. The reshelve cart hasn’t been stocked like it is supposed to be each night, and someone decided to flip over the book-hold form in order to turn it into a scratch piece of paper to take notes on. No one had likely been called, and the requested books have obviously been reshelved, meaning you will probably get more than a handful of angry phone calls today with patrons demanding to know when their books will be in. Your coworkers make it a habit to ditch anything having to do with the phone because they know they can get away with it. This means it is usually left for you to deal with, even when you are away.

The library has been your pride and joy for nearly three years now. After receiving your Bachelors in Journalism, you decided to continue your education in order to get your Masters in Library and Information Science. Your parents were of course wary, wanting you to prioritize getting married and starting a family, but you made it clear to them--as well as everyone else around you-- that education was of importance to you. Once you completed graduate school at the age of 24, you moved into the house you currently reside at and started at the library. Colorado Springs feels like home to you now, and you sure as hell don’t mind how much cheaper the cost of living is in comparison to Denver.  

The morning continues to go poorly, the angry phone calls you anticipated beginning to roll in nearly right after you unlock the doors for the public at 9:00 AM. You finally find a rhythm of juggling tasks, but when patrons start arriving, you are completely thrown out of your groove, not being able to find it again for about another hour. Your coworker shows up right as you are hung up on, the nasty phone call making you decide that you need to be by yourself for a bit.

Bringing the cart up with you to the third floor, though you have no intention to use it at this time, you make your way to the reference corner. Your tailbone aches as you sit in one of the large arms chairs, finally letting the tears you have been holding all morning spill down over your cheeks. You cry quietly, your stuffy nose beginning to run as the emotions building up in you all come crashing down. Hiccups and coughs are muffled by your sweater as you try to catch your breath, eventually calming down enough to do so. You are beyond exhausted and all you want is for the day to be over so you can take a bath and go to bed early, wishing you wouldn’t have even come in in the first place.

--------------------

Thursdays have quickly become Flip’s favorite day.

He enjoys the extra sleep he is able to get at night, and especially enjoys the extra long shower he always takes when he finally decides to crawl out of bed. He enjoys taking his time getting dressed and enjoys brewing his coffee to eat with breakfast. He enjoys getting away from the station for the day and even enjoys running errands that most find boring. Out of everything there is to enjoy, though, Thursdays are his favorite because he enjoys seeing you.

After he hangs his shovel back up in his garage, he climbs into his truck and begins making his way down his mental checklist for the day. Oftentimes he stops by the library right as it opens; it allows you to greet him at the doors as you unlock them, and it has quickly become one of his favorite parts of his favorite day.

Today, however, is different. He decides he is finally going to ask you out to lunch. You had coyly mentioned it a few times in passing, thinking he wouldn’t notice, but he did. And today is finally going to be the day that he mentions it. He makes good time completing the tasks on his checklist, dropping groceries and a few other purchases off at home before finally heading to the library.

He notices almost immediately that you aren’t sitting at the front desk like you usually are and this makes him nervous. Although you told him your coworkers would direct him your way if he needs, today is the first time he might actually have to ask someone else for help. He has had friendly conversations with a majority of them and they notice how you look at one another, but his stomach remains unsettled anyway.

He nods at your coworker in acknowledgement and she points upward, signaling to him that you are upstairs somewhere. His nerves begin to disperse as he makes his way upstairs, grateful to avoid the awkward smalltalk. You are nowhere to be found on the second floor, so he tries his luck at the third, making his way over to the reference section.

He hears a small hiccup followed by some sniffling, following the noise through shelves and back to the corner as he stubs out his cigarette. What he finds makes his eyes soften and his shoulders sag. You are curled up in one of the large arm chairs, eyes puffy and glossy due to crying and nose red from blowing it too often. Looking up upon his arrival, you quickly stand and wipe at your cheeks with the back of your hands in a failed attempt to hide the fact you have been crying.

“Hey.” Your voice is scratchy; in part due to your cold and in part due to your crying.

“Hey. Everything alright?” He is unsure of what to say, knowing the answer is of course no. When your face crumples and you confirm his suspicions with a shake of your head, his heart begins to ache, watching as tears bubble over your waterline.

Gathering you into his arms, he holds you close to his chest as you cry. You grip his shirt as sobs wrack your body, one of his hands rubbing your back while his other arm winds itself around your torso. He stays quiet, hushing you on occasion, but mainly just waiting for you to get all your tears out.

Things slowly subside and you pull your face out from his chest with a sniffle, releasing the flannel material from the death grip your fists had claimed on it. You feel even more exhausted than before, each of your limbs feeling heavy and uncomfortable while an oncoming migraine causes your ears to ring. He brushes away stray tears, smoothing the hair at the crown of your head. You make eye contact after avoiding it for a minute or so. Offering a weak smile, you thank him quietly, your voice coming out weaker than it had previously.

“I originally came to ask if you’d like to get lunch during your break, but I think it’d probably be best if we got you home instead, yeah?”

Your heart swells at his confession, wishing today wouldn’t have gone the way it did. Still, you nod in agreement rolling the cart into the elevator as he stands next to you. After collecting your things from the backroom, you explain to your coworker that you are heading home to rest. Flip keeps a hand on your back as you make your way through the parking lot, helping you avoid any potential ice patches.

As you continue to where your car is parked, you notice him stop by his truck. You chew at your cheek, shoving your hands in your coat pockets as you walk back over to his truck.

“You can um. Follow me to my house if you’d like.”

“You sure? Don’t want to intrude, especially if you’re not feeling all that well.” You nod.

“It’s okay. Talking with you will make me feel better.” He nods at your confirmation, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Is it alright if we make a stop on the way? Don’t feel like making lunch, and I want some tea for my throat.”

“Course, doll. Whatever you want.” The pet name rolls off his tongue accidentally, and he mentally kicks himself. Your relationship up to this point has been friendly; of course there is a mutual interest that has been on a low simmer for the last few weeks, but neither one of you wants to make a move and risk ruining what you have.  

Your cheeks warm and all you can do is nod before turning and heading in the direction of your car. Pulling out of the parking lot, you finally allow yourself to savor the pet name, doing a little celebratory wiggle in your seat. Your tailbone throbs in warning, but you are too giddy to pay it that much mind, suddenly feeling a bit better than minutes earlier. Flip follows you in his truck, eventually pulling into the cafe parking lot alongside you.

Getting out of your vehicles, he opens the door for you and you thank him as you step inside. You already know what you want, so you allow Flip to look over the menu a bit while waiting in line.

“Sorry. Not sure what I want.” He scratches at his facial hair as he continues reading over all his options.

“It’s alright. What do you usually like?”

“Meat,” he chuckled, “I’m not super picky.”

You make your way to the counter, ordering for both of you without hesitation. Flip stands off to the side of the pick up ledge with you as you anticipate your order being ready, and you are grumbling to him in mock frustration. He had managed to pay while you were busy digging through your purse. He didn’t realize it would cause this much of a debate.

“Will you at least let me pay you back?”

“Nope.” He pops the second ‘p’, shooting you a wink as you glare at him.

Before you can protest further, your food and drinks are ready and the two of you head back outside. Setting your drink in your cup holder, you start the drive to your house.

Flip takes a sip of his coffee as he pulls into your neighborhood, and his heart nearly bursts out of his chest as warmth radiates through it. The coffee place he has been looking for for nearly a month now. You brought him to it. Did you somehow find out he has been looking for it? Do you know he knows it’s the same place? He breaks himself out of his trance as he parks along the side of your house, carrying his coffee and the bag of food up your driveway.

--------------------

He follows you into your house after hanging up his jacket and toeing off his boots, taking in every piece of decor that just screams you. Stopping the little tour at the couch, you set down your drink and encourage him to do the same. He sets the food on your coffee table before taking another drink and settling in. You wander into the kitchen, unwrapping the sandwiches and putting them on a couple plates, grabbing some napkins and sitting down next to him.

“Is this the coffee you brought me the other week?”

You look up from your own drink with a nod, wiping your mouth to conceal a shy smile. You are unsure how he knows, but the fact that he notices and remembers small things like that makes you feel fuzzy inside. He smiles softly to himself as he tucks into his sandwich, and you can’t help but watch every move he makes. He seems so confident and sure of himself in everything he does; he takes up space and isn’t ashamed, at least if he is he doesn’t let it show.

He is wearing a flannel as usual, today’s choice being an earthy mix of browns and deep oranges and reds. The tones make his usually dark eyes appear bright, and contrast nicely with his deep, chocolate-y hair. Oftentimes, his gold Star of David hangs proudly from the chain around his neck, but today it is tucked into his undershirt. Without realizing what you are doing, you find yourself fishing it out, running your thumb across the worn down metal. His eyes meet yours and you pull away out of realization, embarrassment settling in soon after.

“Sorry. Don’t really know why I did that if I’m being honest.” You laugh awkwardly, turning away from him a little.

He stays quiet, licking his lips. You occupy yourself with one of the tassels on a pillow, beating yourself up for your actions.

“I don’t want to kick you out or anything, but um. I think my migraine is setting in and I should probably take a nap.” Your eyes gloss over as he nods and stands.

He puts his jacket and shoes back on, thanking you before he makes his way back out to his truck. You lock the door behind him, cleaning up the lunch left on the coffee table. He hadn’t bothered to bring his coffee or the other half of his sandwich with him, a tear slipping out as you sit back down. You are confused but too tired to dwell on it in the moment. Dragging yourself upstairs and drawing a bath, you take off your remaining makeup that hasn’t been cried off and strip down before settling into the warm water. Closing your eyes as a few more tears fall, you finally allow yourself to drift off.

--------------------

Thursdays aren’t special anymore when Flip stops showing.

You aren’t sure what boundary was crossed that day two weeks ago, but all you know is that you miss him. He isn’t there when you unlock the doors in the morning, and the phone calls and short visits throughout the week stop happening. You manage to hold yourself together during your shifts, but once you are home and get a few glasses of wine in your system, the floodgates open.

Your coworkers stop mentioning him in conversation, noticing how your body language changes when they do. Life feels different, but this is the new normal and you are going to have to become accustomed eventually.

--------------------

Flip isn’t a fan of Thursdays anymore.

All they remind him of is you and his regretful decision to leave that day two weeks ago. He isn’t sure what came over him, but the unease that settled in when you touched his necklace made the hair on the back of his neck stick up. Laying in bed at night, he continues replaying it over and over in his head, wishing he could go back and do things differently.

It is a Saturday afternoon and Bridges has given them the weekend off after wrapping another case the previous afternoon. There is still copious amounts of paperwork to be done, but that is just something to look forward to on Monday.

Him and Patrice had just finished up their discussion about their latest read when she invites him to join her and Ron for lunch. It isn’t until Ron brings up them starting a new book that he thinks of you, deciding to finally cave and ask his friends for advice.

“And then I just. I left. And I really regret it.” He swirls his drink around in his glass as Patrice smiles sympathetically.

“I’m not ashamed of my religion, but there’s still this-this looming cloud of fear hanging over my head. We talked about so much together; hobbies, family, life. But whenever religion came up I just tuned out. I felt like things had changed for the better after the Klan case, but part of me is still terrified to just. Be me.”

Neither really know what to say. They have never seen Flip this worked up over something so personal before, and don’t know how to comfort him. Ron finally clears his throat, earning Flip’s attention.

“What you’re feeling is completely understandable, Flip. I mean you know better than I do how Jewish people have been treated throughout history. As far as I know, though, they haven’t ever really been treated very well. Of course that doesn’t mean your emotions are any easier to deal with, but-. Um.”

He pauses, trying to put his thoughts into words. Finally, he gives up with a sigh.

“What I’m trying to say is even if she’s the sweetest person in the whole world, it’s understandable why you’re still on edge. Patrice was just telling me about this thing the other day-what did you call it, ‘trice?”

“Intergenerational trauma. The Black Student Union had a recent week-long unit discussing enslavement and the trauma associated with it. It’s now becoming a biological issue. We touched a little on how it can affect other groups of people as well, but of course we mainly spoke about black issues. The findings, though, were fairly the same across the majority of groups with a few exceptions since situations of course differed.”

She stands, grabbing a few pieces of paper from the discussions she had led. Sliding them across the table to Flip, she lets him look them over as she continues.

“The way I explained it was-um-sort of the nature in nature versus nurture as opposed to the nurture most people explain it with. Obviously there’s social aspects that come along with it, but we’re starting to finally learn about underlying effects now tied to genetics. There’s studies and evidence starting to come out from Canada showing that there are completely different stressors in the brains of children of Holocaust survivors--survivors who were children themselves at the time.”

Flip nods, looking down at his drink once more as he tries to comprehend all the information he is hearing and reading. Growing up, his parents never made religion the focal point of their lives; relatives would gather to celebrate on holidays after attending synagogue, but they were never strict with their practice. He hadn’t worn a kippah outside of temple in over two decades, yet he maintains the habit of wearing his Star of David each day. He’s never not been proud of being Jewish.

One of his earliest high school memories was of when he came inside after getting home, only to find his mother crying in the kitchen as she hung up the phone. He had asked what was wrong, but the only response he received was a shake of her head. It wasn’t until weeks later that he learned it was due to a family friend being placed in the hospital after a targeted attack. At the time, hate crimes still hadn’t been written into law, meaning the people who had done it were charged with assault and battery as opposed to the now more fitting charge. He sat alone in his room for a while, trying to come up with any reasonable explanation for why it happened. But he just couldn’t. It was around that time when he started looking into law enforcement; he wanted to protect not only himself and his family, but anyone else who was tormented for being themselves. He continued to wear his necklace, only this time he tucked it into his shirt before leaving the house.

The Klan case forced him to step back and look his religion in the face. Every night he would come home and try to scrub his body clean in the shower, yet he still felt so gross hours later. Eventually these emotions led to him speaking to his mother about it, shedding tears over the phone with her on several occasions about the inner turmoil he had been dealing with. After he had filed his last piece of paperwork on the case, he finally started untucking his necklace from his shirt again.

Ron pats him on the back as a tear rolls down his cheek. He quickly wipes it away, chuckling slightly as he sniffles.

“Don’t want to get too emotional ‘bout it. Just difficult seeing my connections with people suffer.”

“No need to apologize for having big emotions about serious shit. It’s alright to be frustrated and confused. We know what you’re going through to a certain extent, but even if we didn’t, we’d never judge you for it, brother.”

Discussion continues as they finish their meal, Flip starting to feel a bit better as the afternoon ticks by. Glancing at his watch, he decides it is best to head home and spend some time tidying up around his house. Ron leads him to the front door after he says goodbye to Patrice, proposing Flip hit the town with them later that night for a drink and to get his mind off of such a heavy subject. After a bit of consideration, he finally agrees before they say their goodbyes for the time being.

--------------------

You had just gotten out of the shower after a long day, stretching your limbs as you dry off, when the phone rings. Quickly wrapping the towel back around your middle, you sit on the edge of your bed as you pick up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey.” Flip’s voice rumbles through the other line and you nearly drop the phone.

“Flip. Hi. Are you-um-How are you?”

“I’m doing alright. I just sorta. Well I wanted to call in part to check up on you but um. I thought it would be best to talk about the other week.” His voice trails off a bit at the end, and you know it means he is nervous. In turn, this then makes you nervous as well, wondering what has him so worried.

“I’m really sorry for overstepping. I don’t really know why I did it, but I regretted it immediately after it happened” You find yourself rambling on and on, trying to fill the air with conversation instead of awkward silence.

“and I was looking at you and what you were wearing and then I just. Did it and I’m so sorry. I really miss seeing you and-and haven’t heard your voice in so long” It is as if you can’t stop, word vomit continuing to spill out of your mouth as he cuts you off.

“Y/N it’s alright. It’s okay, I had no intention of yelling at you on this phone call.”

After reassuring you, he begins to speak openly about the emotions he felt during and after the incident. You listen and take what he is saying to heart. You store it away in your brain, wanting to at least walk away having learned something.

“I don’t necessarily regret reacting the way I did. At first I did, but now I feel like I’m realizing how important it was for me to experience. I do regret waiting this long to reach out to Ron and Patrice for guidance, because it would’ve cleared these things up in my brain a lot sooner.”

“I know, but you did reach out and that should count for something. Gotta cut yourself more slack, love.” Flip blushes at your words, biting his lip as he smiles. He stays quiet, finally murmuring,

“I missed you, doll. I’m sorry I stopped visiting. And calling.”

“Don’t apologize. I understand why you did. I’m just glad we’re talking again now.”

The silence this time around is comfortable rather than awkward. You can tell he is deep in thought, trying to shift subjects to something lighter. You allow yourself to process his previous words a little bit more before eventually deciding you want to continue the conversation in person--of course if Flip is okay with something that vulnerable.

“Ron invited me to come out with him and Patrice later tonight. Sorta to get my mind off of everything I mentioned if-um-ya know. If you want to join.”

You break out in a smile as you play with the edge of your towel, resisting the urge to squeal.

“I’d love to.”

“Really?,” he clears his throat, trying not to sound too overly excited, “Cool. I can pick you up around 7:00 or so. It’s supposed to be just kinda casual so um. Don’t need to pull out the black tie formal or anything.” You giggle, making butterflies erupt in his stomach.

“I’ll take you up on that ride offer. See you at 7:00?” He repeats your farewell back to you before ending the call, leaving you to dig through your closet for something to wear.

--------------------

You forgot what it felt like before a big event; how difficult it was to wait around for hours and hours while you anticipate the excitement that awaits. You make the mistake of getting ready far too early, leaving you to stand in your closet and overthink what about what to wear for far too long.

When the clock nears 7:00, you touch up your makeup and check yourself out a bit in the mirror. You had decided on a pair of flared jeans with a halter style tank top, the color complementing your skin tone nicely. The weather is still a bit harsh, so you decide on wearing a cardigan over top that you can easily remove if you get hot whilst out. As you put on some perfume, you suddenly feel overly self conscious about your outfit choice. What if you are too dressed down? Flip said casual but maybe he meant the casual-you-wore-to-work casual? Frantically looking through your closet, you begin to feel tingling waves of anxiety course through your blood. Before you can change, however, the doorbell rings, signaling that Flip has arrived.

You curse under your breath and check yourself over once more. Slipping on a heeled boot, you make your way downstairs and open the front door. Flip is wearing his usual, but you recognize the flannel as either being new or not one you have seen before.

“Come on in. I need to grab my purse quick. Is that shirt new? It looks nice.”

Flip steps inside and out of the cold, glancing down at the muted tones of green and brown while you retrieve your purse from the kitchen.

“Yeah, thank you. I picked up a few up the other day. Figured it was probably time to get some new ones in rotation. You look really nice, too.” He admires you as you walk back over into the entryway, slinging your purse over your shoulder after putting on your jacket. You thank him, boldly deciding to take his hand as you exit.

After you lock your house, he opens the passenger’s side door for you. He closes it once you are settled inside, and makes his way around to get in on the driver’s side. His truck rumbles to life as he turns the key, and he stops to look at you instead of reversing out of your driveway, perplexing you a bit.

“Everything okay?” He nods at your inquiry, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear.

“You just look really nice.” Goosebumps prickle to life along your arms, the depth of his voice sending a shiver down your spine. You manage to squeak out another thank you as he smoothes a thumb over your cheek, watching as his eyes glance at your lips. Shit, is this finally happening?, you think to yourself.

“Would you mind if I kissed you, doll?” It is nearly a whisper, but you manage to catch it, shaking your head to say ‘no you wouldn’t mind.’

Your eyes flutter shut as his lips slot together with yours, his hand continuing to cup your cheek. The kiss remains innocent; slow, gentle slides of his lips against yours, warmth twisting around in your belly as you run your fingers through his hair. You let out a nervous, shuddered breath when he pulls away, cheeks hot from all the attention he is giving you. He smiles as you bump your nose against his, still close enough that you could kiss again if you lean forward. Resting his hand on your thigh, he backs out of your driveway and makes his way in the direction of downtown.

“Do we have to meet up with them?” You murmur, tracing small shapes on each of the fingers he has resting on your leg.

“Mm what are you suggesting instead?” He teases.

“Nothing. Just wondering is all.” You feel flustered as he looks over at you, glancing back at the road as he slows down at a red light, before he finally turns his attention back to you.

“Yeah? Just wondering?” You nod, feigning innocence as you notice his eyes flit down to where your bottom lip is tucked under your teeth. He squeezes your thigh, accelerating when the light changes.

Making his way through the heart of downtown, Flip eventually finds a spot to park along the street, getting out and putting some change in the meter. He helps you hop out of his truck, locking the doors before shoving his keys into his pocket. Before you can step up onto the sidewalk, he presses you against the passenger’s side door, leaning down to initiate another kiss.

This time, you hold his face in your hands while his arms sling themselves around your waist in an attempt to hold you closer. You press your hips down onto the thigh placed between yours, the fire from earlier igniting in your stomach again. As he pulls away once more, you whine softly, chasing his lips with your own. He chuckles, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek, tickling your skin with his facial hair.

“Don’t want to leave them waiting, doll. Got time for this later tonight, yeah?”

You nod in agreement, placing a kiss to his lips before gently using your thumb to wipe off the lipstick that has transferred from your mouth to his. He rubs along your side under your cardigan, wishing there wasn’t another layer of fabric to keep him from the warmth of your skin. As he goes in for another kiss, you back away.

“Come on. Don’t want to leave them waiting, remember?” You tease, stepping up onto the sidewalk as you place your hand in his. He shakes his head with a smile as you cross the street together.

Tonight will be interesting.

--------------------

once again, i hope you enjoyed !! i’ll try to post as much during the school year, but i don’t want to make any promises just yet. leave me some feedback in the comments or in my inbox :))

#flip zimmerman #flip x reader #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman x you #flip zimmerman imagine #adam driver character #blackkklansman #reader insert #fluff #angst

[drivinmrdriver]

Song Series:  Whatta Man (Flip Zimmerman)

Working at the station had it’s ups and downs. A down being the filing of paperwork of every man who came up to your desk. Colorado Springs, now considering itself being an all inclusive employer, you sat as the first woman in the office and you were very noticed by most for it. One in particular. 

 This is where we get to the perks of your job. Seeing the burly man walking into the station taking off his coat and putting it on the rack tossing you a wink as he ran the large hand through his long dark hair. Just the sight made you push your knees together and act busy again on the type writer. That is before a shadow cast over you shielding you from the LED office lights. 

“I have some paperwork from this case Jimmy and I just closed. Drug activities, the usual. I’ll help you file them. The last name is a ‘R’ and I know you can’t quite reach that shelf without assistance.” Flip said leaning over your desk. The whiff of cigarettes wafting around your face causing a blush across your face. 

“You know I can manage, Mr Zimmerman.” You mumbled grabbing the file he laid on your desk before standing and turning to walk down the hallway and to the file room. Turning the light switch you let out a yelp seeing Flip followed you into the empty room, “Jesus Christ, Phillip. Don’t do that shit.” 

“Skip the formalities, Miss (L/N). We both know that we know each other enough for you to call me Flip.” He whispered as you walked past him to the ‘R’ shelf scooting a stool under it to reach it yourself. 

You blushed remembering your shared night at the disco last weekend. A few drinks, a few flirts, next thing you know the two of you were sharing breaths in between the sheets of his silk bed. 

“That never happened. I’ve drawn a veil over last Saturday. I suggest you do the same before the chief catches on. It took a lot for me to get where I am, you too. We shouldn’t jeopardize it..” You whisper placing the file in the proper bin. 

Leaning his hand on one side of her against the shelf and mimicking the action with his other he had her closed in as he breathed in her scent, “Never happened. So that must have been someone else, with your hair...your clothes...your body..begging for more in the bathroom at the disco, in my truck, at my house...in my shower” 

You suck in a sharp breath feeling him behind you before stepping off the stool and turning to face him looking up through your lashes, “What’s up with you? I thought you didn’t want us to be public. That was a one time thing.” 

“Yeah well, I cracked a case today, I’m feeling unstoppable and would like to spend the rest of the day with whomst I have a connection.” Flip whispered mouthing against the skin of your neck before his large hands slowly lifted your hands above your head holding both wrists with one hand. 

“What a man..” You breathe gasping as his lips linger over yours for a split moment before he chuckled. 

 “A man? I’m the man, darling.” Flip smirked lifting your chin with his free hand before finally connecting your lips getting closer and closer backing you against the file shelf causing it to rattle. Reaching his hand up without even looking he caught the files about to shower over the both of your heads. 

You laugh against his lips giving in as you saw people walking out of the station through the small window of the door. It was the end of the day anyways, you hold a finger to his chest, “One more night and then we figure out what we’re going to do between us. But for tonight, red lantern. You’re paying.” 

“Goes without saying, baby girl.” Flip smirked pushing off the shelf giving your cheek a stroke before sauntering out of the file room leaving you a weak-kneed mess.

#flip zimmerman #imagines #adam driver #fluff #blackkklansman #flip zimmerman x reader #adam driver x you

[eddiesfaerie]

Mirrorball

Summary: Your first time meeting detective Flip Zimmerman is out on the dance floor. (5.2k words) 

Warnings: slightly NSFW? (this takes place one year after the events depicted in the film Blackkklansman, so possible spoilers!) mentions of the KKK, mentions of police, f!reader, implied age gap, drinking, Flip is an asshole and a brat tamer and it shows but he’s also a ✧ gentleman ✧, thigh grinding(?), mentions of sexy stuff, early 80s grooviness, disco shenanigans, me making myself horny

A/N: this is very loosely based on mirrorball by taylor swift. that song just makes me think of Flip so I just literally had to get this out of my system. totally down to write more of these two if anyone would want that 👀. Flip Zimmerman is THE disco king. Pls enjoy <3

Part 2 

The cool September night nipped gently at your skin as you made your way into the local disco. Dressed in your best white baby tee, the best fit flared jeans you owned, and the perfect white disco heels your blood was pumping and you were ready to dance the night away. You didn’t bother bringing your trusty denim jacket because as soon as you hit the dance floor, which would be immediately upon entrance, you knew you would have no more need for it.

No matter how excited you were for your weekly escape on the dance floor, this was the first night butterflies fluttered in your stomach without relent. You shook your head, remembering almost too vividly the conversation you had over the phone with your old college friend, Patrice. She would also be attending the disco tonight with her boyfriend and her boyfriend’s… work partner.

This is where things got tricky for both you and Patrice. Her boyfriend and her boyfriend’s work partner were cops. Not exclusively cops, (they made sure to always distinguish themselves as “detectives”) but still, cops. And you and Patrice did NOT fuck with cops.

That was until the KKK bust about a year ago. Patrice battled with her personal morals for a long time on whether she should pursue her relationship with Ron, but you had encouraged her to see where it went. She clearly had feelings for him and he cared for her as well, so for once you told her to follow her gut, no matter what his job was. And after that infamous KKK case was closed (or more so, thrown away) Ron was more of a detective than a cop and well, that was good enough for Patrice. And you were happy for her.

Now, this is where things got tricky for you. You had already planned to go dancing tonight; seeing as it was Friday night and dancing at the disco was your weekly Friday night activity. Patrice said she would be joining with Ron and now, somehow, mysteriously, suspiciously, Ron’s partner, Flip Zimmerman, who just so happened to be as single as you and quite literally the most beautiful man in Colorado Springs, was also tagging along for the ride. This would either be the most awkward, third-wheeling night of your life or… well, that was about the only outcome you could see coming from tonight.

You had never actually met Flip before, but based on what you've heard about him from either Patrice or Ron, you could not imagine a disco being this man’s idea of a fun time. He seemed old, even for his age. Sure he was older than you, but he seemed like an actual old man. Grumpy, stubborn, sassy and just plain rude to everyone and anyone. A total grouch.

You rolled your eyes as you approached the door, your last chances for bailing leaving you as you waved to the bouncer, a familiar face, entered the building and headed straight to the bar for your first drink of the night.

//

Ron and Patrice pulled up to the disco in their car, Flip hot on their trail in his truck, parking next to one another in the parking lot. Flip’s knuckles were white against the steering wheel from how hard he was gripping it on the way over, he felt like crashing his truck just for an excuse to not come but he felt like he may regret that decision sooner rather than later.

You’re going to be there.

Flip’s never met you, but he’s heard about you through Ron and Patrice who never seem to stop bothering him about it. He appreciates the effort but they’ve gone from endearing to straight up fucking annoying. Flip loves Ron, his brother-in-crime, so to speak, and he has a soft spot for Patrice as well, but he could not imagine you to live up to all the hype they’ve given you at this point.

No offence, of course. You were just some kid to him.

A knock at his window startled him, erasing any image of you he was trying to conjure up in his mind. What would you be wearing? What colour would your eyes be? Would you dance? Did you like to dance? Did you drink? What drink do you typically order?

“Zimmerman!” Ron said, pressing his forehead against Flip’s window causing Flip to roll his eyes and unbuckle himself from his seat which he hadn’t even done yet, so wrapped up in overthinking the night ahead of him, overthinking about you.

“Can’t open the door if you’re pressed against it like that, Rookie.”

Ron backed away, going to wrap his arm around Patrice’s waist as Flip got out of the car and slammed the door behind him a little louder than he probably should have.

“M’not even a Rookie anymore, partner.” Ron teased, pulling Patrice alongside him as the three of them made their way into the disco.

“Yeah you keep telling yourself that, Rookie.” Flip grumbled, causing Patrice to giggle and Ron to shoot her a glare. The trio made their way into the joint and loud dance music quickly flooded them.

The place was absolutely packed, even for a Friday night. Made it seem like Colorado Springs was the most happening town in the West. Sweaty bodies moving and grooving to the music like it was still the seventies. The giant dance floor took up most of the main floor, one side of it lined with a bar that was clearly stocking any drink one could think of. A short staircase near the back of the dance floor led to a slightly elevated platform filled with a large seating area lined with couches and booths for people who just wanted to enjoy the atmosphere, music, alcohol and/or drugs. Flip wondered which crowd you would be a part of.

Patrice said your name and Flip froze, “she should be around here somewhere. I know she got here before us.” Patrice said over the music.

Ron nodded and Flip felt his hands get clammy. Why the fuck did he come to this, he wondered? He loves a good disco just as much as the next person, but this weird blind date situation was not sitting right with him. The three of them made their way through the dance floor towards the staircase at the back, trying to get a bit of elevation to have a better chance at spotting you.

The song changed and the crowd erupted in a cheer, it was a popular one, Flip knew that. You would have to be living under a rock not to. As they climbed the staircase and came to rest against the banister, the crowd made a bit of room near the middle of the dance floor for a duo who started to groove together hypnotically to the beat. Patrice giggled and clapped her hands, covering her mouth to hide her wide smile.

“Oh my god, that’s her.” She laughed giddily, tugging on Ron’s arm. Flip looked to the two girls dancing, the two who once seemed so far away and swallowed up by the crowd, now seemed so much closer and clearly in his line of sight. Which one were you…

“The one in the jeans.” Ron answered, reading Flip’s mind. He gave him a knowing smile and went back to casually grooving with Patrice as all three of them watched you dance with a girl you didn’t even know.

//

You both laughed at each other as the song went on, your bodies moving with ease as you danced around and with one another, tugging on each other's arms to spin or saucily moving your bodies just close enough together for people to stare. You didn’t know her, the song had just come on and you both gasped at the same time. She looked at you and asked you to dance, why would you say no? She was pretty and you felt a friendly competition coming on. And it was hardly a competition at that, she clearly had you beat, but it was all in good spirits, it was just nice to lose yourself with someone else to one of the most popular songs of the last three years.

//

You shimmered and shined from the side lines where Flip watched you. He felt dumbstruck, like a complete fool, watching you dance with another woman. The way your jeans clung to your body, yet swayed alongside your feet.

Christ, you were a fucking vision, Flip thought. Now the nerves were really going to get the best of him. Soon enough you would find the three of them and he would have to have a conversation with you about something other than that crazy fucking dancing you were doing. And he didn’t even know you, how the fuck was this an ideal situation to meet someone in? Why did he let Ron and Patrice convince him to do this? Why were you so fucking beaut-

Flip pulled out his pack of cigarettes from his flannel pocket, popping a single cig out and lighting it quickly, trying to calm his nerves before they got the best of him. He took a long, long drag and continued to watch you through the cloud of smoke he blew from his mouth.

The song abruptly ended, sending the crowd in a light cheer before the next one transitioned seamlessly into the stuffy, humid air. Some people around you and your lady-friend applauded you both and you seemed a bit embarrassed, maybe not having realized people were really, really watching. Flip thought that was cute. He watched you hug the girl goodbye as she headed off with her friends again, and you headed to the bar.

Fuuuuck, fuck.

“Anyone want a drink?” Flip asked, worrying his lip between his teeth as he kept his eyes trained on you, bringing the cigarette back up to his lips and rubbing his clammy hands together to appear more... normal?

“Oh yeah, could you get me a-”

“Great, I’ll get that.” Flip cut Ron off, just needing an excuse to get away and see you up close without out right saying: Okay time to go make a complete fucking fool of myself to our ‘mutual’ friend.

Almost a head taller than everyone else on the floor, it was easy for Flip to keep his eyes on you as he sauntered over to the bar, mentally giving himself a pep talk that he didn’t usually need. Well, he didn’t usually hit on women in bars or clubs or discos, he was fine being single, it was actually women that pursued him, making it easy for him to charm them even though it never lasted longer than a few weeks at a time. But now he was the one making the move and it scared the shit out of him. Uncharted territory.

The closer he got to you, the more he could make out of your features, and the more he was regretting his decision to come and see you all by himself. He needed encouragement, maybe liquid encouragement, which he stupidly hadn't gotten yet. It should have been the first thing he’d done when he got here. And this fucking cigarette wasn’t helping like it usually did.

A few bar stools away from you now, (the bar seeming to drag on into infinity), he realized there was some schmuck sitting next to you, who you weren’t even paying any mind to. What a perfectly good seat gone to waste.

“Beat it, pal.” Flip grunted, cigarette between his lips, tapping the man roughly on the shoulder. Either the guy recognized him as a cop or just wasn’t in the mood for any trouble, he got up and left immediately, leaving the spot next to you vacant and cold.

//

You heard him coming. You knew he was watching you. You saw all of them come in and watched observingly as they made their way through the joint and up the steps. You had seen them from the corner of your eye as you put on a little show with your new friend. You liked the way Flip looked when he was entranced, you like the way it felt for him to devour you with his eyes.

“Beat it, pal.” That was the first time you had heard his voice and you tried to suppress the shiver it sent up your spine. So deep and bassy. You kept your head straight ahead, occasionally looking down at your drink, fiddling with it in your hands.

It felt like the man who was sitting next to you flew off his chair and it was suddenly filled with the most radiating, warm energy you think you had ever felt emitted off another person. Cigarette smoke filled your senses and fogged your mind, you could see him blowin git out of his nose in your peripheral vision.

Flip had come to sit next to you, his thighs so wide that his knees nearly spread enough to knock into yours.

“Detective.” You greeted cooly, taking a sip from your drink and avoiding eye contact. Flip greeted you back just as cooly, throwing your name back at you. You don’t think your name sounded so good falling off of someone’s lips before. You internally groaned.

“Quite the little show you put on out there with your friend.” Flip said, taking another exaggerated drag from his cigarette, cheeks hollowing out slightly.

“Stranger.” You said, taking another sip, continuing to avoid his burning stare. You could feel his eyes on you and the temptation to look was almost overpowering, you avoided it like you would Medusa.

“What?”

“She was a stranger, I don’t know her. Didn’t know her. She gave me her number.” You giggled into your glass, taking your final sip from the now empty glass, setting it down on the countertop.

Flip bit his lip. Why were you so fucking sexy? You wouldn’t even look at him. He suppressed the urge to grab your face and turn it himself to make you look at him. Maybe you’d like that, he thought.

“Two mojitos. With ice.” Flip called to the bartender. You turned to look at him then, while his head was turned away in the opposite direction. You soaked in what you could before he turned back to look at you.

His hair practically begged for your hands to run through it. It looked soft, wavy and just stupidly perfect. He was wearing the world’s tightest red flannel with a white shirt poking from underneath the unbuttoned collar. The buttons strained against his chest, god he was probably so fit, how big did he have to be to make the buttons look like they were about to burst? Even his biceps were pulling the material taught. His thighs, which you had noticed when he sat down next to you, were equally big and covered by a lovely denim, you did love a man in jeans. You giggled to yourself, which caused him to look back at you.

Fuck, those eyes. Honey, caramel, cinnamon, chocolate, brown sugar.

“What’s so funny doll?”

“I just didn’t take you for a cocktails kind of guy.” You laughed again. You weren’t trying to make fun of him, you just couldn’t help it. It was the alcohol, not the nerves, you told yourself.

“What makes you say that?” He smirked, you could tell he was trying not to but you could see the way his lips twitched, then proceeded to curl around his cigarette seductively.

“Oh nothing.” You swatted the air with your hand, wanting desperately to change the subject before you accidentally mentioned how large he was and how funny it is to picture a tiny little cocktail glass in his enormous hands.

Your two glasses were quickly placed in front of Flip who handed the bartender a bill. He slid a glass over to you and your fingers brushed as you took it from him. He was warm. You wanted to touch him again. He put his cigarette out in a nearby ashtray.

“Thanks.” You muttered, quickly bringing the glass to your lips, needing more in your system to distract you from how distractingly mesmerizing he is. He had good taste, the drink was perfectly sweet with just enough kick to keep you buzzed. You both locked eyes as you took a sip from your respective drinks, your cheeks feeling hot from his gaze, it made you look away as you set your glass back on the countertop.

Why did you keep looking away from him? Flip began to worry that his presence was unwanted and he debated just getting up and letting you enjoy your evening with your new friend and refilled drink. Maybe he was coming on too intensely? He had definitely gotten that one before, he wasn’t sure how many rookies at the police dept had quit or been re-stationed because of his intensity alone. He just likes to think that they weren’t cut out for the job, and besides, if they couldn’t handle Flip Zimmerman, well, maybe they couldn’t handle-

“Do you want to dance?” His mouth cut his own train of thought off, like half of him was bored of hearing himself think obsessively and waste more of the night not on you. His abruptness made you giggle and you finally looked back at him, swaying gently from side to side in your barstool. Flip thinks he’d like to have you do that in his lap, swaying from side to side, swivelling carelessly...

“I didn’t take you for a dancer.” You maintain eye contact now. More confident than before, challenging him.

“That’s the second thing you’ve assumed about me tonight. And the second thing you’ve been terribly wrong about.” Flip chuckled, downing his drink in one final gulp. You watched the way he threw his head back, the way he swallowed, the way his throat bobbed. You wanted to touch his neck, press your lips across the delicate skin, bruise him.

“You didn’t answer my question.” Flip pushed. He was beginning to think you liked being difficult, that you liked making him work for it, liked him coaxing your answers out of you. Maybe he did. He hoped you liked it too, you little defiant-

“What if I told you I don’t dance with men?” There was a glimmer in your eye. Flip decided right then and there that you were evil, you fucking temptress. You were doing this on purpose.

Motherfucker.

Just how far could he push you before you gave in? Before you gave up on this stupid fucking act?

“Then I would be incredibly disappointed to hear that.” Flip frowned, teasingly. Maybe he should just get up from his seat and find Ron and Patrice, two could play at your dumb little game. He did in fact stand up, he straightened himself out and without a single glance back at you, he turned and walked away. The only thing stopping him was your hand wrapped firmly around his wrist. He looked back expectantly, trying to hide his knowing smirk.

So you did have a limit to which you were willing to play.

“What if I told you… I’d make an exception. Just this once.”

Oh, Flip liked the sound of that.

Without another word, Flip unbuttoned and shrugged off his flannel, placing it on the bar countertop, leaving him in just his white t-shirt that clung way too well to his body. Fuck, what were you getting yourself into? He really was huge, massive. You resisted the urge to just climb him and beg him to take you home. But you didn’t role that way, and you were not about to make that many exceptions for one man.

But he was one hell of a man…

“Keep an eye on this.” Flip called to the bartender, referring to his flannel, without breaking his eyes from yours. Honey, caramel, cinnamon, chocolate -

“Ready?” He held his hand out to you. The song that was playing faded and another came on. Without fail, you recognized this one as well and you couldn’t help the smile that threatened to split your face in two. Be it the alcohol or Flip, your cheeks burned and were growing numb from how hard you were trying to stop smiling. You looked down at his hand and bit your lip, looking back up at him through your lashes and nodded.

“Ready.”

Flip pulled you from your seat and whisked you onto the dance floor with more force than you were expecting, causing you to yelp and grab onto his bicep for balance. He placed a hand on the small of your back to steady you, now in the heat of the dance floor surrounded by glistening bodies. You let out a small laugh, a nervous one. Somehow, you forgot how to move your feet, forgot what it felt like to feel the rhythm of a song, lose yourself in the music and just move. You had been dancing with that girl, what? Twenty minutes ago? And now you could barely move a muscle underneath the intense gaze of detective Flip Zimmerman. He seemed to find this amusing.

“Come on, you’ve got this.” Flip mused, a devilish smirk tugging at his lips. He placed his hands on your hips, making your eyelids and limbs feel heavy. He helped you sway them in time with his, your eyes immediately going to his hips watching him as he watched you become more and more comfortable dancing around him.

Maybe you really didn’t dance with men after all, Flip thought.

Eventually you were able to shake off your nerves and tell yourself to just pretend he wasn’t there, or pretend he was that girl from earlier. You both began to sort of dance by yourselves but still in very close proximity to each other, the occasional graze of his hand along your shoulder, waist, hips, ass bringing you out of your head and back to the dance floor with the reality of the fact that you were indeed dancing with a cop and people were staring at you. Or maybe they were staring at Flip who just so happened to be a stupidly incredible dancer.

For his height and length at which his limbs protruded out from his body, he should not have that much control over them, that much coordination. But he’s a detective, you remembered. He fought in ‘Nam, he was a trained professional in the police force, of course he was coordinated, of course he was skilled with his body. He had to use it everyday. He had to be strong, tough, resilient, a wall of pure muscle.

Fuck, you were starting to understand why Patrice threw some of her cares into the wind when it came to Ron being a cop, detective, whatever. Flip was undeniably sexy and as you danced with him out on the middle of the floor, you didn’t think you could want him anymore than you did in that moment. The way his muscles rippled underneath his shirt as he moved to the music was utterly hypnotizing.

Before you could even realize what you were doing, you dropped low to the floor, reaching your hands to glide up his entire body slowly, slowly, slowly, passing over his muscular thighs, dragging dangerously close to his crotch, his hips, his waist, over his toned stomach, his hard pecs, scratching at his neck as you looped one hand around his throat, then strutting around him in a circle, letting your hand run along his neck, over his shoulders. You giggled to yourself stupidly, hugging him from behind, suddenly embarrassed at that little show you just put on, wanting desperately to disappear behind him. Flip grabbed you from behind, splitting his legs open and somehow sliding you between them, underneath him and then back to face him again.

He looked down at you with that same look from before; hunger, starvation, thirst. You were both still dancing even though the movements blurred in your mind, you felt like the two of you were moving in slow motion as your bodies grew closer, closer, closer together, the music fading out as well. The only sensation that seemed to knock you out of your trance was Flip’s hand slipping into yours, interlocking his fingers through your smaller ones. He was warm, so, so warm and you didn’t want to let go. You tugged on his hand to bring it up to your lips, to kiss, but he tugged harder. He tugged your whole arm, actually. He tugged your whole arm and your whole body followed, off the dance floor, through the crowd, through the back door, around the corner till you were against the brick wall, outside.

You were breathless, your ears ringing from the adrenaline of being so close to him, dancing with him but also from the loud music that was still pounding beyond those two doors next to you. Flip stood in front of you, he fished out his cigarette pack from his jeans and you wondered when he put it in his pants pocket, you remembered it being in his flannel pocket. Why were you thinking about that? Maybe you were tipsy, or drunk off of him.

Flip stuck the cigarette between his teeth and lit it effortlessly, like he had done it a million times. He probably has. He maintained eye contact with you up against that wall as he sucked and sucked the toxins out of his cigarette, his cheeks hollowing beautifully before blowing the smoke out through his nose, making you want to whimper and drop to your knees. If you had been any drunker you think you might have.

He took annoyingly slow steps towards you, and with each one you felt your breaths become heavier and heavier, like he was pressing a weight against your chest the closer he got to you. Another puff from his cigarette.

“Hold this for me.” He said suddenly, holding his cigarette out for you to take. You nodded silently, not trusting your own voice as you took it from him, your fingers brushing against one another; electricity, voltage, lightning.

Flip grabbed the back of your head, fisted your hair between his fingers, tipped your head back and shoved his tongue down your throat. You moaned into his open mouth, shameless as your lips wrapped around his, wet and slippery. His other hand, now free from his cigarette thanks to you, came to grab your cheeks between his thumb and index, pinching your jaw softly to pry your mouth open and keep it that way so he could devour you more easily.

He backed you up against the wall, his muscular thigh coming to rest between your legs, pressing right up against your most sensitive area, causing you to moan into his mouth again. He pulled your hair harder, groaned against your lips and you desperately ground yourself against his thigh, you couldn't help it, it was right there applying the right amount of pressure and you were beginning to seriously unravel for him. Putty in his hands. His mustache and goatee tickled your face but it only spurred you on more to kiss him with equal fervour, now wanting to devour him yourself. Your tongues massaged one anothers, over, under and back again, you had truly never been kissed like this before.

Flip suddenly pulled away, gasping for breath and you audibly whined at the loss of contact, your lips begging for his to come back. At your complaint, he gave you a few teasingly small pecks before resting his forehead against yours again.

“I bet you think you’re real cute, dancing out there like that.” Flip said, his voice the deepest you had heard it all night, you let out a satisfied hum. You decided then that you would do anything he asked you.

“Hmm, you seem to think so.” Your eyes boring into his, then back down to his lips again. So plump, swollen and red. You did that to him. You wanted to keep doing that to him.

“You sure are a fucking brat, aren’t you?” He spat at you with pure hunger in his voice, pushing your body harder against the wall, causing you to whimper and screw your eyes shut momentarily, the slight pain turning into pleasure. How was he doing this to you?

“It doesn’t seem to be bothering you that much, the fact that I’m a brat.” You spat back at him with equal want. Flip groaned and tightened his fist in your hair even more than he previously had.

“Honey, you have no idea what it’s doing to me.”

His voice was quiet all of a sudden. The need not gone from his voice, but his voice just above a whisper. It rumbled his chest when he spoke. You reached your hand down to palm him through his jeans and you weren’t surprised to find how hard he was there, but you gasped at its size. Flip gabbed your wrist and pinned it above your head, baring his teeth at you slightly. He was holding himself back, you could tell, it was like it almost pained him.

“Flip, please,” You begged, your first time begging on the first date. “Please, I need to touch you.”

You closed your eyes and rested your head back against the brick wall in defeat. You felt Flip’s lips ghost over the skin of your neck before he sank his teeth into the skin causing you to cry out his name. He quickly pulled his teeth away from your skin and licked around the irritated flesh several times, pressing his plush lips against the quickly purpling skin.

Flip knew you were nowhere near intoxicated enough to not know what was going on, but he didn’t want to rush you into things that you might regret tomorrow. He didn’t want to risk not seeing your pretty little face again just to get his cock in your mouth tonight. No matter how badly he wanted to see you there on the ground outside the disco, bruising your knees for him, his cock deep in your throat, tears falling down your cheeks as-

Not tonight, not tonight, not tonight.

“Come by the station tomorrow. Don’t even think about covering this up.” He murmured against your skin, referring to the hickey he left, his mark on you. Breathless and at loss for words in your swimming pool of a brain, you nodded your head with fervour at his request.

Flip pulled away from your neck to look into your eyes with such intent, such meaning. Use your goddamn words, he thought.

“Tell me you’ll come.” He wanted to add a ‘please’ at the end of his request, but it wasn’t really a request. No, he needed to see you again. This was not going to be a one off thing, Flip was sure of that. Even after just one night of dancing with you. You smiled up at him and said,

“I’ll come.” 

The double meaning behind your words made you feel hot and look away from him. You’d come as many times as he’d let you, you thought, your heart pounding in your chest at the mere idea of him taking you in any way he wanted, for as long as he wanted, as hard as he wanted. Flip gripped your chin again, forcing you to meet his dark, inky eyes.

“I’m gonna fix that attitude of yours one day.” You smiled up at him, a perfect shit eating grin to match his own. 

“I’m counting on it, Detective.”

#flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman x reader #reader insert #flip zimmerman smut #flip zimmerman imagine #flip zimmerman x you #my writing #mirrorball #blackkklansman

[valkyriekill]

hello! my name is valkyrie, or val for short and i'm officially going to open up my fic requests! i'm not new to the adcu fandom, i actually used to write for it up until a few months ago for undisclosed reasons under a different name, but now i'm back!

i will write about:

kylo ren

clyde logan

flip zimmerman

charlie barber

paterson

adam sackler

and phillip altman!

now for something a little more serious. i'm willing to write just about anything, but here's a small list of things i will flat out refuse to fulfill:

ddlg/age regression

watersports

real person fiction (i.e i won't be writing about adam driver himself, i will only write about his characters)

underage

incest (or anything involving pseudo-incest or step-parents/siblings)

i will write nsfw but i will only take nsfw requests from those who are 18+. i do not write nsfw for minors and this is non-negotiable.

please respect me and my boundaries and we will get along just fine! i'm excited to get back into the writing game!

#kylo ren #star wars #logan lucky #clyde logan #adam driver #adcu #ben solo #kylo ren x reader #clyde logan x reader #charlie barber #marraige story #blackkklansman #flip zimmerman x reader #paterson x reader #girls show #adam sackler #flip zimmerman #adam sackler x reader #adcu imagines