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#reader x phillip altman
jynzandtonic · 4 months
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Ooooo how would any/all of the boys react to turning 40???
*Sigh* 40 is a damn fine age. Please accept these snaccs:
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Charlie Barber: Henry's all set up to stay with his cousins for the week so you two can get away to the little villa he's booked in Tuscany for the two of you. You'll have the whole time to drink red wine, make homemade pasta, and fuck in the sunshine on the deck off the master bedroom.
Clyde Logan: He feels so damn lucky to be alive, to be with you. Growin' up with Jimmy, two tours in Iraq, all his adventures and misadventures, and he's finally settled down with you and happy as can be. All he wants is to sit with ya on the porch swing and watch the sunset with a beer in hand—but he won't say no to the butterscotch cake ya baked him.
Adam Sackler: Can't really believe he's fuckin' forty. He promises to put some of his commercial money in an IRA and take enough of a break from acting for a little staycation to fuck on every surface of your apartment together.
Flip Zimmerman: You sure you don't want to have a baby, sugar?
Phillip Altman: Perpetual man child. He offers to get matching cougar tattoos with you.
Rick Smolan: Motorcycle tour of Vietnam together, letting you take photos on his DSLR while you ride on the back of his bike.
Ronnie Peterson: Cabo San Lucas with you and all your friends. He wants to drink daiquiris, sing karaoke, and maybe get a sunburn at a nude beach!
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juniperwoodwell · 11 months
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How ADCU characters would react to a s/o, who admits she's Insecure about her body.
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Parings: Adam Sackler x F! Reader, Flip Zimmerman x F! Reader, Phillip Altman x F! Reader, Kylo Ren x F! Reader.
Warning(s): Cursing, 18+ content, Groping, Innuendos.
Word count: 2k
A/n: Sadly I've been feeling a bit down about myself and decided to write about the boy's, honestly I hope reading this helps you as much as it did for me. Enjoy ❤️
Oh, also. The photos were edited by me, I found them all on Pinterest.
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Adam Sackler
He wasn't too surprised by the confession when you told him one night; he could tell by how shy you were when you started dating and began trying things out in the bedroom.
He didn't know how to bring it up or console you properly; usually, he'd immediately change the subject when you felt insecure about something. To you, it came off as him being uncaring about your insecurities, but one night you decided to bring it up.
"Hey, Adam.." You said quietly; your back was to him as you lay in his bed.
The question ran through your mind, keeping you awake. His arm wrapped around your front and pulled you against him,
"Yeah, Kid?" his voice was groggy from sleep.
"Why do you always change the subject when you notice me becoming insecure about something?"
 "You seriously want to talk about this now?" He groaned and nuzzled his face into your neck, but you sighed and slipped out of his grasp, sitting on the bed and crossing your legs.
"Yes. It's bugging me, and If I don't know the answer, I won't sleep."
 Another groan escaped his lips, missing your warmth as he sat up, leaning against the wall.
The warm lights from the window illuminated his skin with a golden glow; you sighed and picked at your nails.
 Adam grabbed your hand and quickly pulled you into his lap, tucking his head into your shoulder. His hands slid from your naked thighs to your hips, slipping under your (His) sleep shirt. Your breath hitched when his hands touched your stomach, and you immediately grabbed his wrists.
"Adam...Please don't."
"Why not? Why are you so ashamed of this?" He squeezed your sides for emphasis.
"I-I...I don't know. Maybe it's because, in high school, I desperately tried to be the hot skinny girl?" You joked,
"Really?" Adam asked, obviously not catching on.
"No, Not really. I...I guess it's just because I'm putting so much effort into losing weight, then not seeing any progress. It's always been this way. I either can't gain any weight or lose it. I used to get upset when I got stretch marks on my thighs or when my sides got pudgy."
Adam removed his hands from under your shirt, taking both of yours so he could interlace your fingers. He kissed your shoulder. "That's stupid."
 "Adam...Don't put down my insecurities."
"Why not? They deserve it. They're useless and only make you doubt yourself. I say screw it. Stop caring about how much you hate or dislike your thighs or belly. You're beautiful not by just how you look but by your personality. Though your appearance definitely adds to it."
"How can you say that?" You asked, closing your eyes as he continued to kiss the exposed skin of your neck and shoulders.
"Because I fucking love your body. I love how thick your thighs are, especially when they're trying to crush my head like a watermelon. I love how squishy your belly and sides are. It gives me something to hold onto when I'm railing you into the mattress. Oh, and don't get me started on your ass because I know you're insecure about that too. It's my favorite pillow. Knocks me right out."
His words were accompanied by a squeeze or poke to each part he mentioned. Making sure you knew just how much he loved the things you were insecure about. He realized the subject-changing method wasn't working, so he decided on a more... Physical  approach.
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Flip Zimmerman
Flip's reaction was similar to Adams, but he couldn't wrap his head around how such a beautiful, intelligent, and talented woman could be insecure about herself. He wasn't sure how to console you, but he was determined to learn how.
He started by asking questions about your insecurities, always confused by the why and how. It irritated him to know that someone made you feel  this way about yourself. No...Not irritated. It pissed him off beyond belief, but he would never let you know that.
One night, he takes the situation into his own hands, quite literally. You two were preparing to go to the park's fall cookout park.
You stood in front of the mirror trying to fix your dress, you hated wearing them, but you thought you'd try the pretty housewife look. Biting your lip, you flopped your hands to your side, giving up.
"Hey, Stop that." Flip's low voice startled you out of your self-criticizing thoughts.
 "S-stop what, Hun?" You asked, Turning to look at him as he finished buttoning up that lovely red flannel you asked him to wear.
"That whole nitpicking thing you do when you try on new clothing. You look gorgeous in that dress. -actually, you look gorgeous in anything you wear...or don't wear" He smirked, his eyes gleaming mischievously as he walked over to you, taking your hand and turning you to face the mirror again.
He wrapped his arms around your middle and put his chin on top of your head, that smirk growing into a smile as he watched the blush blossom on your cheek.
"You tease" Your voice was small; He always managed to distract you from your negative thoughts
"My pretty little Wife." He moved his head to kiss your cheek. "If you don't like the dress, I can always rip it off your pretty little body and show you just how beautiful you are with and without it."
"Oh shush, we don't have time, Flip."
"Like they're gonna care if we're late,"
 You scoffed. "Late? Honey, With you...We'd miss the whole event"
 You rolled your eyes, seeing Flip smirk in the mirror.
"That wouldn't be so bad?" His hands slid down the sides of your dress, he pulled the skirt up, but your hands grasped his wrist before he could get too far.
"Yes. Yes, it would, Zimmerman." You smiled, meeting his eyes in the reflection.
"If we stayed home, I could show you all the ways to love your body." Your head turned to meet his gaze, that mischevous glint now replaced by a low gaze and lust-blow pupils. You patted his chest,
"As much as I'd love that...And really, I would. I promised the guys at the station I'd bring those cookies you all like."
Flip groaned and kissed your head. "You or those delicious cookies...Toughest decision of my life." Together you laughed, and you pulled away.
 Swaying your hips as you left the bedroom, knowing he'd be watching and following after.
"It better be me, Honey."
 A new wave of confidence found its way into your heart and mind.
"Always, sweetheart."
If Flip could love your body so damn much, So could you.
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Phillip Altman
Philips's reaction was very childish, as were most of his reactions to things you tell him. He mostly laughed in disbelief. But he settled down when you put your hands on your hips and bit your lip.
"Holy shit, You're serious." His eyes were wide.
 As I said. Disbelief.
 "Yeah, Pal. Why wouldn't I be?"
"I-I don't know? You always seem so confident in the stuff you wear; you're like the queen of confidence. It radiates off you like the fucking sun. It shows in the way you walk and the way you talk."
You shook your head. "It's not really confidence, Phillip. I just like the clothing I wear."
"Liar, You know you're hot. You have no reason to be insecure. People should be insecure because of you and all your..." he moved his hands around the air, "Hotness."
 "Hotness?"
 "Yeah. You're fucking hot." You rolled your eyes;
 Phillip sighed as he stepped close to you. His hands ghosted up your arms, not touching but close enough to feel the heat. His hands cupped your face and squished your cheeks as he kissed you; he pulled away and gently shook your face
"And you better fucking believe it. Okay? Because If you don't, I'm gonna keep doing this until you do."
He smiled and kissed you again and again, Only stopping when your fingers wrapped around his wrists. "You believe me yet? Little punk?"
You smirked and shook your head, "Nah...I don't think this method is working."
"Oh? Then what will? Huh?  How about this?"
Philip let go of your face and fell to his knees. He stared up into your eyes like a love-sick puppy.
"Oh fuck...Phillip...Get. Up." You laughed;
 He shook his head as his hands grabbed the backs of your thighs, squeezing and kneading them through your jeans.
"Phillip," You groaned; you loved his hands, how big and warm they always felt. He knew it, too.
"Hmm?"
"Stop it." You grabbed a fistful of his hair before he could shove his head between your thighs; he groaned loudly at the feeling.
 "SHit- Do that again." You smirked at his request, tugging his hair again.
"You mean this?" He shut his eyes, groaning again.
 "Yess...Your hands are so fucking addictive." He opened his eyes, meeting your own. "You're so pretty from this angle, baby. If I could, I'd be on my knees for you forever."
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Kylo Ren
Kylo was angry when you told him, not at you but at your reasoning behind it. He was furious that a man you put your trust and love in constantly put down your body or called you things that made you feel less than you were.
He was determined to show you just how wrong that bastard was.
He had you pinned against the wall of his bedroom, his lips on your neck, and your arms were held above you by the force while his hands roamed your body,
"If I ever hear you putting yourself down again, I will fuck you senseless until you only believe the words I say." You moaned softly at his words; his hands took the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head; then he unclipped your pretty black bra, sliding the straps off, and watched as it fell to the floor before he lifted his eyes back to yours.
"Do you understand?" You nodded; Kylo gripped your chin firmly, asking the question again.
"Do. You. Understand?"
"Y-Yes, Sir."
Pleased with your response, he let go of your face and took one of your breasts in his grasp; he smirked at you before he leaned down, taking it into his warm mouth, licking and sucking sweetly, eliciting loud, shaky moans from you. He let it fall from his lips with a soft pop. He lifted his head and kissed you deeply, dominating you with his tongue. His hands groped your chest, and he rolled your nipples between his forefingers and thumbs, drinking your moans and whimpers.
 He pulled away from the kiss, releasing your wrists from the force; they draped tiredly over his shoulders. His hands left your breasts, sliding down over your stomach, finding their places on your hips.
"I wish you could love yourself as much as I do." He kissed you, squeezing your hips as he lifted you, you wrapped your legs around his waist, and he carried you to the bed, kissing your neck as he laid you down; his kisses trailed down from there.
When he reached your belly, he smiled up at you, his fingers dipping into the waistband of your pants.
"Guess I will just have to teach you how."
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purestxblood · 1 year
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𝗧𝗔𝗞𝗘 𝗠𝗘 𝗛𝗢𝗠𝗘, 𝘱𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘱 𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘮𝘢𝘯.
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(𝙋𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙥 𝘼𝙡𝙩𝙢𝙖𝙣 𝙭 𝙛!𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧)
You weren’t teenagers anymore, that was the problem. You were old lovers discovering new versions of the other and if you allowed this to continue, you feared what would transpire. You both were always courageous, spontaneous without thought or reason. So be it.
𝗔𝗻𝗴𝘀𝘁. 𝗙𝗹𝘂𝗳𝗳. 𝗘𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗱 𝗣𝗮𝘀𝘁 𝗥𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽. 𝗦𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗙𝗼𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆. 𝗙𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴.
“The gears in your head are turning,” he teased, the tip of his finger coming into birds-eye view for a second as you stared at the fan atop your ceiling before tapping the tip of your nose. You let out a delicate chuckle of breath through your nostrils, swatting his finger away with your hand. His own chuckle filled the husky morning air and you turned cheek, taking in his exterior. 
It was still dark in your room, soft hues of gray peering beneath the curtain signifying that morning was askew, night fading to meet a nearly rising sun. His dark locks were tousled from being tugged between your fingers, strands sticking messily against your pillow and along his forehead. Like yours, his eyes were dark and heavy from sleep, more so lack of, and it surprised you that he was awake staring at you with a closed mouthed smile to his dimples. 
In any other case – more like past memories where you found yourself clothes free and tangled in webs of desired limbs and synchronized moans, Phillip Altman would find himself sound asleep with blankets covering his face or his face buried alongside your breast and abdomen…that’s if he had stayed the night.
Granted, the last time you had your ex-boyfriend in your bed had been years ago when you were just two hopeless teens in what you thought was forever puppy love, leading him to sneaking out of your bedroom with enough time before your parents stirred. 
Now, you were in your late twenties, in your own home, wondering why the hell you allowed yourself to consume enough alcohol (or so you made as an excuse with only having two drinks and a shot) to take home the first and only man you ever loved and why he hadn’t gone home after you both came. 
Instead, you both had fallen asleep. Only this time, your face had been pressed into the crook of his neck, your arms draped over his chest and legs latched to his hips. It was as if subconsciously, your inner teenage self had sprung awake and didn’t want to let the moment go yet when you woke, you were quick to peel yourself off him and nestle against the pillow shoulder length away. 
“The gears aren’t turning in my head,” you scrunched your nose, your mouth frowning as you looked at Phillip. He chuckled lightly and rolled onto his side, until his frame nearly hovered your side, his face inches apart, “they so are.”
Summer before college had been the last. While you were ready to take the world by storm with Phillip by your side, he had been leaving you high and dry. Your sights were on growing together, getting through school and reaching your desired career, to then, marriage and a family. 
You were hopeful and optimistic that Phillip was the one you’d travel through life with. 
He had other plans and you accepted that deep down in the root of his spirit, Phillip Altman was terrified of commitment and the adult world. Both of which you weren’t, and while your breakup after four long years of high school sweets, became many sleepless and tear filled nights, you vowed to never look back—yet here you were: naked and sexually satisfied underneath ruffled bed sheets..
Oh yeah, the gears were turning and you were wondering why you allowed years of growth to be tossed out the window the second Phillip hugged you in appreciation at his fathers wake and invitation to the bar.  
Giving condolences and regards to your ex’s family by attending his fathers funeral and celebration of life was one thing, devouring said ex by giving him a blow job in the alleyway behind the bar like you were freshly horned teenagers to then fucking in your living room and bedroom was another.
You weren’t teenagers anymore, that was the problem. You were old lovers discovering new versions of the other and if you allowed this to continue, you feared what would transpire. 
Phillip was still nothing but a man child. He wanted the attention and beds of many, not the warmth of a solid foundation. 
“I think you should go,” you admitted. 
The corner of his lip twitched, the smile upon his face diminishing until his dimples disappeared. “You want me to go?” 
No.
“Yes.”
He blinked, his eyes piercing yours as if he were trying to see underneath your lashes, through your pupils, and into your mind. Your expressions always gave way to the thoughts in your head, hence how Phillip still managed to know you were stuck in thought, yet you hoped he wouldn’t protest and would just be.
Phillip hummed and brought his hand out from underneath the sheets, cupping his palm to your cheek. He held your face tightly, eyes lingering from your dazed eyed to your slightly parted lips. 
He leaned forward slowly as if we were waiting for you to protest but when your eyes had drifted down to his mouth, did he continue leaning until the gap was closed and his lips were on yours. 
The kiss was tender, his lips delicate in question while yours met him gentle in answer. It was short lived, Phillip being the one to break it and pull away. He hovered so closely to your face, his thumb soothing the apple of your cheek before brushing your sex filled bed head away from your face. 
He smiled, “you don’t.”
Truly, you didn’t but you were far from wanting to make things complicated. This was supposed to be a one night rekindled heated romance. 
“Phillip—”
You were ignored, silenced by his lips once more only breaking for him to continue a journey of feather-like kisses down your throat to the base of your shoulder and chest. His hand teased its way between your breasts and down your chest, coming to a rest on your inner thigh. His fingers smoothing circles along your skin, his knuckles occasionally brushing along your nude sex.
“This was supposed to be a one time thing,” you gasped as he nipped at the crook of your neck. He hummed in agreement against your skin as he feverishly devoured you in pecks, “and now?”
As the question stirred, Phillips fingers trialed to your core, his fingers teasingly running along your slit.
“A goodbye,” you licked your lips, your eyes closing as you pressed your head into your pillow, your pelvis lifting in need of touch. 
Your words were one thing but your body was betraying you by giving way to his touch. “Mmm,” Phillip rubbed his lips together. His finger ran up and down between your folds, dipping into your wetness while he kissed your jawline with an open mouth and tongue, a smile brewing, “baby we’re only getting started.”
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Return to 𝗠𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 . Join my 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 for notifications of future one-shots.
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kylowritten · 10 months
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Why Me?
Pairings: Phillip Altman x F!Reader
Summary/Excerpt: "There's a litany of things you never thought you would do, one of them being returning to your home town to attend your high school reunion. Next on the list: falling in love with Phillip Altman."
Warnings: cussing, recreational drug use, talking about sex, making out, partial nudity
Word Count: 2.8k
A/N: The title of this should actually be "Why is Adam Driver so Fucking Adorable"
This fic is a part of the prompt exchange with @juniperwoodwell
There's a litany of things you never thought you would do, one of them being returning to your home town to attend your high school reunion.
"It's not a setback," you tell your reflection. "It's just a...readjustment."
The woman in the mirror hardly looks convinced. But you promptly ignore her, grab your purse, and head out the door to meet your Uber. You aren't so desperate as to rectify the failing relationship with your mother by asking her for a place to stay — God, you couldn't even imagine the state of your childhood bedroom — so you rented the cheapest motel room that you could find.
The door swings shut behind you and the sound of your heels on the weed-clotted pavement joins in with the symphony of cicadas. Humidity presses against you like an unwelcome embrace from an elderly relative. Flippantly, you think that you should've packed a travel size hairspray, or deodorant into your purse, but your thoughts have been far away from appearances and personal hygiene.
You had one thing on your mind.
You clarify that the driver is here for you, and climb into the backseat. An old country song floats through the speakers. You're barely out of the Motel 8 parking lot before trepidation fills you — high school wasn't a grand experience (but was it for anyone?). As soon as you flung your cap on the air, you swore you would never come back. So why were you now?
The car abruptly halts at the side of a curb. You look up from your phone, which you've had nervously clasped on your lap, tapping away meaninglessly. The houses that surround you are distinctly suburban, nice, but not overly so, like most of the neighborhoods here.
"What's going on?" You ask. "I need to go to the high school."
The driver meets your gaze in the rearview mirror. "I'm picking up another rider."
"What? No, I didn't want Uber pool."
"Sorry, kid," the driver replies. "I'm the only Uber in town, and everyone is going to the same place."
Great, you think, sinking back in your seat. Not only were you going to have company, but it was going to be some chum from your class. Worst case scenarios run through your head: an ex boyfriend? The mean girl? But a surprising warmth forms in the pit of your stomach when the new rider flings open the door and crouches down to get inside. "Shit, fuck," the rider declares as they hit their head on the car.
Then, rather ungracefully, Philip Altman folds himself into the backseat besides you.
He doesn't realize who you are until he's finished rearranging his long legs and muscular form, barely succeeding in making himself comfortable in the backseat of the car. You're staring at him when he finally glances your way, and a blush dusts your cheek as his eyes light up. "Is that you? In the flesh?"
"I know, I'm surprised too," you say.
"What are you doing here?" He excitedly asks, then shakes his head. "Don't answer that, I know why. I guess I just didn't think that you were the reunion type."
You raise a brow. "And what type would I be?"
"You know," he said, as if you did. He jostles your side in a companionable fashion. When you don't register what he's implying, a look of shock takes over his handsome features. "What? The hot girl? You seriously don't know."
You fix him with an incredulous look. "C'mon, Phillip."
He holds up both of his hands defensively. "I'm being completely honest. I swear on my father's grave, bless his soul," he adds, then tilts his head. "Can you still swear on people's graves?"
"I heard about that," you say, softly. "I'm so sorry."
"Thank you." A look passes over his face, one that you can't quite read, disappearing quickly. "Fortunately, I have coping mechanisms. Adult ones."
He pulls something from his back pocket: a joint.
You glance at the driver, then Phillip. "I haven't..." you trail off, gesturing with your hands, "since high school."
Amusement flickers across his face. "We're going to our high school reunion, don't you want to reunite with something else?"
You order the driver to drop you off a few blocks away from the high school. Phillip grabs your hand and tugs you out of the car, throwing a "thank you" over his shoulder. You're both giggling as you find an alleyway to duck into, an uncontainable smile unfurling on your mouth as Phillip strikes up his lighter. 
He takes a long drag, then hands it to you. You fumble with it. "Do I even remember how to do this?" You ask, to no one in particular. 
Phillip grins at you, smoke streaming steadily from his mouth. "It's like riding a bike," he remarks. "Except the bike is made out of smoke and the road is made out of good times."
He finishes this intelligent analogy right as you bring the joint to your lips and inhale. You snort and then choke on your laughter, and then on the smoke, inducing a coughing fit that is not at all remedied by Philip's own howls of laughter. "Dumbass," you say, swatting his arm. 
You snatch the joint back from him once you're satisfied that your coughing fit is over. The weed hits your lungs, pungent and powerful, and you can feel the tension begin to melt from your body. You tilt your head back and gratuitously blow out the smoke, watching as it rises into the air, twisting and turning. When you look back at Phillip to proffer the joint again, he's already staring at you. It's in this moment that you remember all of the rumors in high school. 
Although you didn't necessarily run in the same circles, you saw each other at the occasional party or school function. The rumor then was that he was an apologetic flirt and playboy, hopping from one eager girl to the next. 
The rumor didn't matter to you in high school, you had your own shit to figure out. 
But now, looking at him, illuminated in the hazy dusk light, there's a tightening in your stomach that high school you had never acted on. 
Smoke breezes past your face as Phillip exhales, drawing you from your trance. His brows pull downwards. "Everything okay, kid?"
"Yeah. Perfect," you tell him. You pause. "Can I tell you the real reason I'm here tonight?"
He feigns offense. "You mean it wasn't to smoke some shitty weed with me in a dark alley like a couple of prepubescent hoodlums?"
This brings a smile to your face, but you ignore him. "Promise you won't laugh." Phillip makes the motion of crossing his heart. Taking another drag and summoning your courage, you tell him, "I never had sex in high school. So I thought that by coming back I could fuck someone from high school and it would kind of, like, settle the score."
"Oh." Philip's lips twitch with barely retrained amusement.
"You said you wouldn't laugh!" You tell him. "It's stupid, I know."
"I don't think it's that stupid," he assures you. "There's some people who genuinely want to relive their high school days and reconnect with their peers." 
He says this as if it ranks only just below murdering a bunch of baby orphans.
"I guess," you say. You feel relieved to have said it out loud, like Phillip was a priest and you were confessing your sins to him. When he changes the topic, reserving his judgement if he had any, it only solidifies your trust in him.
You waste almost half an hour, smoking and swapping stories about your lives since high school. You thought, going into tonight, that you would have to embellish yourself and your achievements, but you didn't feel that need with Phillip. He made you feel safe. Worthy. It was an excellent precursor to the reunion; you no longer felt nervous, and upon realizing that you were going to be unfashionably late, Phillip pinches the top of the joint and shoves it back into his pocket before once again seizing your hand. Another thing to add to the litany of things you never thought you would do: run giggling, hand in hand, with Phillip Altman through the front doors of your high school.
Horribly loud music washes over you as you check in at a table, giving your name to a girl that you don't even remember. Quickly, you scribble down your name on a name tag and slap it on your chest. Phillip snickers as he scribbles something down, sharpie scratching against the material. He proudly slaps it on his chest.
It reads: Phillip Assman.
The girl at the front table makes a face.
You, however, find it absolutely hilarious. 
Philip eventually ushers you away, still cackling, as more last-minute people trickle in through the door. He grabs your shoulders and directs you into the gym where the reunion is actually being held. Streamers with your school colors are taped limply on the walls. Several high-top tables occupy the gym floor, most of them crowded around by former students deep in conversation. There's a bar on one side of the gym, and a DJ booth on the other. 
You open your mouth to ask Phillip if he wants a drink, right as he's flagged down by someone standing around one of the tables. You don't recognize them. He waves and moves as if to join them, but stops and addresses you, "I'll be right back."
You watch him leave, ignoring the small kernel of disappointment inside you. 
Whatever, you think. It's not like you came together. He was just a guy that had the same Uber with you and you shared a joint. Not a big deal. 
Straightening your shoulders, you turn on your heel and march over to the bar.
Alcohol, as it turns out, is a wonderful crutch for social interactions. You drift awkwardly through the gym, catching up with a few people whose friendship have gradually eroded over time, and pretending to be enjoying yourself. Your high helped, clinging to you like a weed-fueled security blanket. But you maintained a vague impression that you made a mistake coming here. 
No one had magically gotten more attractive or interesting in the years since you graduated. There was one guy from your freshman algebra class that you bumped into while waiting in line for the bathroom, a guy who you probably would've totally fucked under different circumstances. But your mind kept wandering, and you ended up making up some half-ass excuse and scurrying away from his blatant attempts at flirting. 
Because, infuriatingly enough, you only had one guy on your mind.
Unhappy with this realization, you quickly do your business and then hightail it for the parking lot. You're embarrassed that you even came, you're embarrassed about why you came, and you're embarrassed that - not unlike a high school girl - you can't stop thinking about the stupidly good-looking guy you interacted with for only a few moments. "Idiot," you mumble to yourself, pushing your shoulder into the door and stepping outside.
The cold sobers you up considerably, and you ditch the red solo cup you'd been carrying for the last hour or so. You needed to just go back to your motel. In the morning, you could forget that this ever happened and erase Phillip Altman from your mind. 
"Hey, where are you going?"
You stop and turn, your heart pumping out a traitorous rhythm as Phillip emerges from the front doors and jogs over to you. Fuck, how did he manage to even look good in the shitty glow from the streetlights? He shoves his hands in his pockets. 
"You're not leaving, are you?" He glances over your head, scanning the lawn as if expecting to discover a reason for your departure, then back to you. "Come out here to puke or something? Those bushes right over there are --"
"No," you interrupt, sharper than you intend. You sigh, and try to soften your voice. "I shouldn't have come here. I-I'm going home. Well, not home, but my motel room."
You're rambling. And you're aware that you're rambling, but it's doing nothing to deter it.
"You can't leave," he says.
You arch a brow. "What? Why not?"
He withdraws the joint from his pocket, which admittedly looks a little more crumpled than the last time you'd seen it. "This joint is legally binding. You have to finish it with me."
"Or?"
He shrugs. "We probably shouldn't find out. You know, just in case." 
"Phillip -"
"We could go back to your room," he says. Recovering, he adds, "If that's okay. Or even that dark alley. It was warm and inviting, not to mention sanitary. We could go back there."
You smother your grin. It's not fair, that you've just reconnected with this man who you knew only in the abstract before, but now have become utterly transfixed by him. He has a magnetism about him that you can't ignore. 
You feel yourself thawing. "What about all of your friends?" You ask, gesturing towards the school. "You can't just leave them."
Phillip makes a face. "Who cares?" He grabs your hand - did he do that a lot? Grabbing hands randomly? - and hauls you to the curb, where he expertly flags down an awaiting Uber driver. "M'lady," he says, as he holds the door to the backseat open for you. 
The drive back to the motel is spent with you discreetly (read: not discreetly) sharing the joint and blowing the smoke out the cracked window. Your Uber driver seems less than impressed with you by the time you tumble out, but Phillip assuages your poor behavior with a generous tip. The heady combination of alcohol and weed, and Philip, fuels you. 
There's no saying who makes the first move -- your mind is swimming with elation from your company. But it happens sometime between the car pulling away from the curb and reaching the room of your motel. Phillip pushes you up against the side of the building, peppering your neck with kisses and whispering dirty things in your ear as you fumble for the key card. He feels so warm and comfortable and secure, and you desperately want to undress him, to explore him with your hands and your mouth and discover what he's like as he unravels. 
The door clicks as your key card finally registers. "Finally," Phillip all but growls. 
You squeak as he lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he nudges the door open with his foot and marches you inside. You're both still giggling like kids between desperate, hungry kisses, his hands reaching under your shirt and your hand disappearing beneath the waistband of his jeans. 
It's only when you're both left in your underwear that Phillip pauses.
You look up at him. He hovers over where you lay, sprawled out on the bed. He's infuriatingly, devastatingly handsome, even when traces of doubt line his features.
"What's wrong?" You ask. "Is everything okay?"
Philip's mouth opens then shuts, as if deciding on what to say. "Why me?"
"What?"
"Why me?" He repeats, in no way clarifying himself. Phillip quickly elaborates, "You said that you went to the reunion just so that you could fuck someone from high school."
You struggle to find a response. "Why not you?"
"I mean, is this--" he waves his hand as if hoping to magically conjure the words that he's searching for, "--is this just nothing? I mean, I'm fine if you want to just settle some score and use me for my body but I'd like to know so I can charge you afterward."
His tone is nonchalant, light hearted, but there's a vulnerability lurking below. 
You sit up on your elbows. It's difficult to address him like this, when his naked torso is practically staring at you in the face. It would be difficult for anyone to concentrate. But you want to be serious, truthful, because you found something in Phillip tonight that you have never found in anyone else. It was too early to call it love, of course, but there was a deeper connection that you would be foolish to so hastily get rid of. 
"I'm not saying that I wouldn't whore you out," you tell him, "but I can promise that I don't want to do this for some dumb reasoning. I mean, sure, that's why I came here tonight, but I didn't expect to meet you." This admission sounds highly cliche, and it brings a blush to your face. "What I'm trying to say is--"
Phillip interrupts you with a goofy smile. "Say no more."
There's a litany of things you never thought you would do, one of them being returning to your home town to attend your high school reunion. Next on the list: falling in love with Phillip Altman. 
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hopeamarsu · 2 years
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ADCU
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* = Smut
** = Stories that might have triggering content. Please read the tags and keep safe.
Flip Zimmerman
Ember of a dying flame
Can’t wait to see you glow
Sunday morning
Silence - Loquacity
Hit The Slopes - White on White
Cinnamon rolls
Little fella
Robbie series: Piece of Heaven - Building Trust
Eating Out (In) *
Hurt No More *
Hurt
Clyde Logan
Beautiful eyes
Burns
The Proposal - masterlist (12 chapters)
Thoughts - Fantasies - Conversations
Body Work
Night Moves (collaboration with @clydesducktape) *: Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4
Midnight Sun 
Skin on Skin 
What Are You Waiting For
Chicken Wings
River Lea - Part 2 **
Mixing Sessions * : Whisper of Desire - In-Ear Monitor - Stereo Love - Loudspeakers - (Bonus track: The drinks)
Walk With Me:  No Sleep -  5 hours, 32 minutes -  I Don’t Know - Patience 
Alone
Healing Hands
Kindness of a Stranger
Calla lilies
Leather and Lace
Ronnie Peterson
A Moment of Calm
Escape
Invisible
Words
Date Night Disasters 
The Rooftop
Titanium
Keep it Safe *
Sweetie Pie 
Night light **
Rick Smolan
When You Know
The Dam 
Senses: Touch -  Listen -  Scent -  Watch - Taste 
Kylo Ren
Man or Monster
Seeing double
The Gift
My treasure
Training Mat 
Adam Sackler
Bring on the Men - Phillip Altman x Adam Sackler
Snow Angel 
Stripped Bare 
Misc
I want this  - Paul Sevier *
Come Alive - Toby Grummett **
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renstardust · 2 years
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You weren’t expecting Leia to invite you to Han’s funeral, especially since you and Kylo had broken up four years ago. The family always adored you though, and you were a good influence on Ky when you were together.
So it all clicked when you found out that one of Han’s dying wishes was for the two of you to end up together again.
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bbillywilly · 2 years
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Hey ladies... Adam Driver.... Don't won't you ass... he wont.... mine.....
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a-supernova-girl · 2 years
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Have a Little Faith in Me - Phillip Altman x OC *PART 1*
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Welcome to my Phillip Altman (This is Where I Leave You *2014*) x OC fic. It’s been a few years since I’ve written a multi-chapter for one of Adam’s characters, but Phillip grabbed my attention, so here we go. I’m intending to have about 6-7 chapters for this story, with each chapter taking place on a specific date, over a span of 10 years, ultimately ending up in our present of 2022. Fluff, angst, eventual smut and a hopeful ending...it’s gonna have all of that. So if you enjoy,*PLEASE* leave a comment and/or a reblog - preferably with your thoughts in the tags. If you want me to tag you in future Adam Driver writing, please let me know via comment, ask or a direct message. Gif is mine.
April 21st, 2012
“I can't believe these idiots are crashing the senior prom,” Bianca mumbled as she watched half a dozen 28-year-old men stumble around excitedly, each in various stages of inebriation. Her brother, of course, was among them, various others whom she knew mostly by juvenile nicknames, and of course...Phillip. Handsome Phillip. Charming Phillip. Slutty Phillip. Five of the men had already cleared the house, congregating around a rented minivan that she hoped for their sake they'd bought insurance for. The only one she didn't spy from her perch in the threshold of her late parents' house was Phillip.
“Hey, you,” came a voice from behind, and Bianca turned on her heel to find the towering brunette standing quite close to her, somehow even nearer-feeling now that they were face to, well, chest. “Aren't you a senior?”
“For about another month,” she confirmed, staring up into his hazel eyes, a bit bloodshot from the alcohol he'd already consumed, but still as beautiful as ever. She couldn't decide if he was standing so close because of his drunkenness, or just due to his tendency to delight in making others uncomfortable. Regardless of the reason, he lifted his hand to the frame of the door above her, glancing outside and leaning even closer. Bianca could smell the body spray he'd saturated himself with, the booze on his breathe, the fragrance of his shampoo.
“And why aren't you at the prom?” he inquired. “Surely, you,” he gestured to her, sweeping his free hand up and down to allude to her body from head to toe, “aren't struggling to find dates.”
“Well, after my date dumped me two weeks before last year's prom, and I went anyway and had a miserable time,” she explained, trying to focus on anything but those honey eyes watching her so intently, “I decided it wasn't worth subjecting myself to it again this year.”
Phillip nodded as he glanced just past her, through the open doorway, to the friends who didn't seem to be in too much of a hurry. “You can come with us, help up crash it, maybe ruin everyone's night. You can point out your ex and I'll punch 'em out or something,” he offered, a grin forming across his lips.
Don't smile at me like that, Bianca begged silently as she felt him lean even closer. “As satisfying as that sounds,” she began, ignoring the way his brows wiggled of their own accord at the word satisfying, “I think I would rather spend my birthday at home, not getting expelled-”
“It's your birthday too?” Phillip questioned, and she nodded, gesturing toward the empty living room behind him.
“Yeah, can't you tell from all the...high school seniors and...party streamers?”
Phillip glanced over his shoulder, grinning, “That almost rhymed.” Turning back to her, his face took on a thoughtful look, “Well, that would make you...what, eighteen?” Another silent nod, Bianca's brows drawing together as she watched him, as if she could see the cogs in his alcohol-fogged brain starting to turn. “And here I am without a present.”
“That's okay, really, I...” she paused briefly as she noticed his arms moving, observed as his large hands found the ends of the drawstrings of her hoodie, turning them over a few times before winding them slowly between his fingers, drawing her nearer.
“No prom, no birthday present,” he mused, glancing once more past her to his friends, all turned away as they talked about something that mattered very little to Phillip in the moment. “Not a fun way to start out adulthood.”
Bianca shook her head briefly, her attention divided between his large hands that were drawing her closer by the thick laces, his eyes that watched her studiously, his full lips that were tugging into a smirk. “Just...another Saturday night,” she finally whispered, her vision focusing on Phillips fingers, now so wound up in her strings that they were flush to her collarbone. When she finally glanced back up, she realized that the much taller, decade-older man was leaning in toward her, not just above her, and his lips were inches from hers.
“Can I give you a present?” Phillip whispered, the tip of his impressive nose brushing against her far smaller one, his eyes focused on her lips. Bianca uttered the softest 'yes' as Phillip closed the minuscule distance between them and pressed his lips gently against hers.
His lips and breath tasted like the alcohol he'd been consuming, and the patch of facial hair on his chin tickled slightly at her naked skin, and his mustache was due for a trim, but it still took every ounce of self control she had to not wrap her teenage arms around this adult man's broad shoulders and-
The sound of obnoxious yelling from the end of the driveway was enough to tear both of them away from each other, the male voice calling Phillip to join them as they readied themselves to take off toward the high school, clearly unaware of the goings on just beyond the front door of the house. Rising back to full height and abandoning the strings of her hoodie, Phillip straightened out his shirt, as if their was evidence of the secret kiss all over his clothes, and he lifted his large hand to the top of her head to give her hair a little ruffle before he slipped past her, turning quickly to wish her a 'Happy Birthday' aloud before nearly falling down the stairs, and taking off toward his friends.
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Click here for Chapter 2!
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Thank you for reading! Support via comments and reblogs are very welcome and appreciated! Let me know if you want to be tagged in the future! You can find my most recent Adam fic here and my masterlist here!
Tagging : @lucy-sky​​ @morby​​ @mrs-zimmerman​​ @lumifuer​​ @roguesandsaviors​​​
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Five Plus One Prompts Masterpost
The prompts
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~ Five times Phillip Altman couldn't keep his mouth shut and one time he was left speechless ~
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~  Five times Rick Smolan woke up without you and one time he woke up with you ~
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~ Five times Flip Zimmerman thought he was in love and the one time he was (serial killer!RC) ~
~ Five times Francisco Garupe woke up without you, and one time you woke up together ~
~ Five times Jacques Le Gris stayed calm and one time he lost his temper ~
~ Five times Clyde Logan and you correct people about your relationship status, and one time you just accept it ~
~ Five times Paul Sevier woke up without you, and one time you woke up together ~
~ Five times Flip Zimmerman wanted to tell you he loved you and the one time he finally did ~
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roanniom · 2 years
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Finishing Up
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Phillip Altman x Reader
Note: This is for @butyoudidthis4what​ who is finishing up some work and could probably use a Phillip right now
“I’m almost done, Phil. I swear.”
“Babe, you do know that you said that about an hour ago, right?” Phillip is standing by the door, leather jacket on and ready, as he has been for sometime now, to go out. 
You ignore him and keep typing. You really are almost done this time, but he’s right. You’ve been pushing off his impatience for a few hours now. It wasn’t your fault that he’d agreed to go to a party on the night a very important project of yours was due. You’d told him to go without you but he’d pouted like a baby and said he needed his hot arm candy with him. 
Without taking your eyes off the screen you call out to him.
“Okay, why don’t you go pick out an outfit for me to wear tonight. So when I’m done, I just have to change and we’re out the door, hm?”
“I get to pick?” Phillip perks up. Even without looking at him you can hear the mischief rising in his tone. “Anything I want? And you’ll have to wear it?”
At that you raise a brow and toss him a look over your shoulder. 
“What are you going to do, give me only a thong?”
Phillip holds up his hands, palms towards you, in defense. 
“Hey, I’m a classy fucking guy. I don’t want other men getting a free show.” With that he steps into your walk in closet.
A few minutes later he emerges and you feel him drape something over the back of your chair. You twist to see what it is and he tugs at your shoulder to keep you facing forward.
“No distractions. You need to finish,” he says, playfully. You shake your head, laughing to yourself but get back to your document. You’re on the last few sentences at this point. Phillip stands behind you, his hands resting heavy on your shoulders, sliding up and down to caress your neck and collarbone. “Actually. I think for efficiency’s sake I’m going to start helping you change.”
Before you could register what he could mean by that, suddenly Phillip’s grabby your shirt and pulled it over your head, leaving you in nothing but your soft bralette and shorts. 
“Phil - !” 
Suddenly he’s under the desk in front of you, pushing out your chair a bit to make room for him as you squeal. 
“Shhh finish your work,” he hushes you, before you start to feel kisses trail up from your calves to the insides of your knees and then up your thighs. The slight scrape of his facial hair against your skin has you inhaling sharply. His fingers trace circles against the hinges of your legs, hooking under the elastic of your panties and massaging the sensitive skin there.
In spite of yourself you find your breathing getting heavier. You find yourself growing wet with anticipation and with his hot, heavy proximity. 
“Lift up for me, baby,” Phillip prompts. You lift off your seat an inch and he pulls your shorts and panties down. Slowly. You wince as you sit back on the seat, conscious of how wet you are but secretly grateful that the chair is made of material that cleans easily. 
Lace panties are dragged slowly up your legs, and Phillip doesn’t have to tell you this time to life up. He pulls the fabric over your ass and you sit back down again, rewarded immediately when Phillip places a light kiss over your now clothed pussy. You let out a light moan and Phillip crawls out from under the desk. 
He comes up behind you again and you can see the reflection of his large form in the reflection of your monitor. Phillip’s hands lightly play with the straps of your bra, pulling them down and moving to unfasten the clasps. When the garment falls away, his hands envelop your breasts, squeeze and groping softly. 
“You’re gonna be a good girl and finish for me, baby?” His lips are at your ear, his words breathy as he speaks them. You swallow thickly and nod. 
A moment later he pulls away and the loss of his contact makes you almost whine, but you bite your lip. He is a back only a second later, lifting your hands from your keyboard to guide your arms through a sexy bra made of the same lace as your new panties. He’s sure you lift and adjust your breasts in the cups, making them appear at their best, most cleavage-inducing advantage. 
His hand rests on your belly as he kisses your neck, making your eyes roll in the back of your head. The suction on your throat is sure to leave a mark, but he stops just short of sinking his teeth into the skin the way you know he would have liked. Then black fabric is being dropped down over your head, and you shift to accommodate the dress you’re being clothed in. 
Then Phillip settles himself behind you, his chin resting in the crook of your neck and shoulder, his arms folded across your upper body. Holding you quietly. Patiently. Contentedly. All things that are not characteristic of the Phillip Altman you know. But which seem to be characteristic of the man he is becoming with you. 
Suddenly you swivel your chair around and grab him up into a violent kiss. Phillip lets out a grunt of surprise but reciprocates immediately. You get up and switch places as fast as humanly possible, shoving him down into the chair and clambering onto his lap. 
“But you’re not -,”
“I finished about five minutes ago,” you say breathlessly between kisses. Phillip pulls away and looks up at you - one part dazed and one part hungry. 
“Why didn’t you say anything. We can head out -,”
“No,” you say definitively, grinding down into his lap. His hard on twitches beneath you and you piston your hips to create some delicious friction. “Now i have to finish something else.”
~*~ 
Tiny taglist: @paper-n-ashes @mariesackler @finn-ray-nal-beads @maybe-your-left @millenialcatlady @mariesackler
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jynzandtonic · 4 months
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Phillip's noticed that I've started thirsting over one Miguel O'Hara lately. How would he reel me back in?
Oooooooh Miguel O'Hara is such a snack! I don't blame ya, friend. But Phillip? Phillip would have things to SAY about that hehe. Please accept these thots:
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Phillip swats your phone out of your hand when he crawls onto the bed next to you.
"Hey!" you snap, scrambling to recover it, but he's too fast. He snatches it up off the covers and starts scrolling through the AO3 page you had pulled up.
"Are you reading more fanfiction, you little slut?" he grins, pinching at your waist and laughing at the way you squeak and push him away.
"So what if I am?" you say, crossing your arms defiantly even if your face heats at the admission.
He pushes you back onto the mattress, caging you in with his arms. His eyes are dark and full of promise as he sucks a mark at the base of your throat, pulling a soft moan from your lips. Your body prickles with anticipation at his attention, every nerve alight with want.
"Well, well, well," he muses, slipping a hand between your bodies to rub at your clit through the thin fabric of your panties. "Can your spider-boy do this?" You shake your head slowly as he works around your sensitive bud in slow, torturous circles. "He can't, hmm? What about this?"
His fingertips hook in your waistband and tug your panties all the way off. He hooks your thighs over his shoulders and presses a thumb at the apex of your slit, parting your slick folds to reveal your throbbing clit. His tongue flits over your entrance and slides up to the very tip of you before he finds a quick rhythm, groaning when you start to buck against him. Just as the tendrils of release start to coil in your lower belly, he pulls away with a smile. "So he can't do that, either. Huh."
You whine at the loss of sensation, but your mouth goes dry as you watch him shuck off his bottoms to free his long, thick cock. He lines himself up at your entrance, pumping his hand just under his tip.
His grin is positively shit-eating as he starts to push inside your tight little cunt.
"What about this?" he asks, burying himself to the hilt.
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juniperwoodwell · 10 months
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Reunion pt.1
Phillip Altman X F! reader
Word count: 6k
Warning(s): Cursing, Smoking, Kissing, implications of masterbation, Phillip- because...well it's Phillip.
Prompt: "Why me? "Why not you" (Will be in bold)
Prompt Exchange
A/N: This fic is part of the Prompt Exchange I am doing with @kylowritten, Go check out her fic as well! Oh, and this is part one, don't worry there will be a second chapter.
"Aw, come on, Y/n, it's a high school reunion! You should come to visit! You don't actually have to go, but you could come over to my mom's place for dinner and meet my kids!" Wendy tried her best to persuade me, but I wasn't so sure; high school wasn't my best life. It had its moments, but I only really had Wendy and Judd. I sighed. "I don't know, Wen.." "Judd and Phillip will be there." "At the reunion?" "No, dork. At dinner. Judd is visiting the same weekend, and Phillip has been dying to see you again." I laughed and rolled my eyes. "Oh Yeah?" "Of course, Y/n. He absolutely adored you when we were younger. Don't you remember me telling you that he'd used to ask when you'd come over?" "Ooh. Yeah, but he was such a little punk" I heard Wendy's laugh crackle over the phone. "Yes. You're right but still. We all miss you." "Wendy, you saw me last month." I tried to reason, but I knew Wendy wouldn't let me live it down if I didn't go, so we chatted awhile longer about everything and anything then I booked my tickets for home.
I swiftly knocked on the door and took hold of my duffle bag; I heard a loud, deep voice yell from inside the house, "I'll get it!" It sounded familiar, but I couldn't put my finger on it.
My heart seemed to stop when the door opened, and the owner of that voice appeared in front of Me; my eyes were wide with surprise, and my jaw fell slightly. "P-Phillip?" I asked, His smile was big, and his eyes shone excitedly. "Y/n! No way! It's been forever" He yanked me into a hug, and his figure towered over me as I hugged him back.
"I know. I'm sorry, I know I promised to keep in touch but with my job and all that...I got busy," I apologized as we pulled away from the hug; he shook his head. "No, I understand, Y/n; you have a life of your own." He smiled at me again; when did he get so handsome?
As we walked into the house, Phillip excitedly pulled me into the house, and we went to the living room. "Look who the cat dragged in!" Wendy and Hillary. Their mother. They were sitting on the couch; Phillip took my bag from me, telling me he'd put it in the spare room. "Oh- Phillip, I was going to get a hotel." I didn't want to burden their mother, but she stood up first and pulled me into a hug "Y/n, Honey. You're like a daughter to me; I couldn't live with myself if I let you stay in a hotel. The guest room is all yours." I signed softly into the hug and nodded, pulling away. I thanked her. Wendy was next to hug me; her hugs were always tighter than everyone else's. "You came; I'm so glad! Wanna meet the kiddos?" She asked excitedly,
This whole family was always energetic. It was a good change from my usual dull and stressful lifestyle. I arrived a day earlier to spend as much time with my friends as possible. It'd been about five years since I'd seen them, excluding Wendy. She always found a way to visit me—no idea where she gets the time.
Phillip returned downstairs; his footsteps were loud as he practically ran down the steps. "Hey, so. How have you been, Y/n?" He plopped down onto one of the armchairs; Hillary rolled her eyes with a smile as she guided me to where she had sat on the couch. "Let me get you something to drink," I thanked her as she walked into the kitchen. I looked at Phillip. "I've been...busy, But good." He nodded; that smile never left his face.
Hillary returned with a glass of grape juice; I looked surprised and thanked her. She still remembered my favorite drink. "So, Since it's been so long, Y/n. Do you have a boyfriend? Maybe a Fiance?" Hillary asked, a mischievous smile on her lips. I smiled and played with the rings on my fingers. I looked over at Philip, who seemed tense, then at Wendy. "Uh. No, I haven't dated anyone since Anthony Kennet from high school," I laughed, Wendy joining me. "Oh, he was horrible for you! I don't know how you managed to snag the hottest guy in school." I rolled my eyes at her comment. "Okay. First off, Wendy, I didn't Snag him. He actually liked me, he was nice, but he wasn't-" "The best in bed." I swatted her arm. "No. Well. No, that's not the point here. He wasn't a good communicator. It never would've worked" I heard Phillip scoff, but I didn't turn to look at him. "Well, if it did, you'd probably be living in Tampa with five kids" My eyes widened at Wendy's words. "He's got five kids!?" She nodded. "Geez... Dodged that bullet" "You don't want kids?" I looked over at Phillip and tilted my head. "What? No. I mean, yes, I want kids, just not five of them. I'd probably be alright with three." Phillip nodded, the ghost of a smirk on his lips. "So, where's Judd? I thought you said he'd be here?" "Oh, he's gonna be late. He'll hopefully be here before dinner."
We had some friendly, casual conversation before Wendy had to help her daughter, and Hillary went to the kitchen to make dinner. Leaving me alone with Phillip. "So. How have you been, Phillip? Last time I saw you was at your high school graduation." I watched him scrunch up his nose and scratch the back of his neck. "I-I've been good. I've been working with Paul at the store; I got a place all to myself now." "You still getting high and chasing after girls?" He rolled his eyes. "No." "Phillip. I know you. I'd be disappointed if you weren't still your old self" "What? A screw-up?" I looked at him, shocked. "Phillip Altman. You are no screw-up, you made mistakes, and that's okay. What did I always use to tell you?" "Mistakes make are lessons; learn from them," he sulked out. "Yeah," I smiled at him. "You wanna go outside?" "Sure."
We went out to the back patio and sat across from each other at the table. Philip pulled out this pack of cigarettes and shook it to get my attention. "Oh, no, thank you." "You stopped?" "Well...Kinda" I lifted my sleeve and showed him my nicotine patch. "I had a bit of a scare last year...The doctors said I had lung cancer, but it was just a machine failure. So I've been trying to stop. I do still kinda want kids, y'know... without defects." I laughed dryly, and he nodded understandingly as he lit a cigarette. I watched him quietly as he blew the smoke from his lips. I leaned back against the chair and looked up at the sky; it was around five o'clock the sun was beginning to set. "How long are you staying for?" "Hmm? Oh, um, until Monday. My flight home is Tuesday morning" "Why'd you decide to come in today? The reunion isn't until Saturday, and it's Thursday." "Your sister insisted I come and stay awhile, and I need a vacation..."
I rolled my neck and met his eyes; he smiled that sweet, crooked smile. "What?"
"Nothing..." He shook his head and looked away, taking another drag. "No, it's definitely something, Altman." I sat up in my chair and put my elbows on the table. He groaned, knowing I wouldn't let it go. "You...You just haven't really changed." I faked offensive "What's that supposed to mean?" "I don't know, I just...I missed you. And our talks, you and Wendy, were my favorite people growing up. I really miss it when you'd come over after school and play video games downstairs with me or when you'd teach me how to draw. I miss you, Y/n."
As I stared at him, guilt rose in my chest.
 I must have been zoned out long enough for Phillip to notice. He got up and crouched beside my chair; his hand grasped mine, making me return to reality. I looked at him, then his hand on mine.
I bit my lip and looked down.
I left my hometown to pursue my dream, but when I failed, I was too ashamed to come home, so I went into reception, and that's where I've been for the past few years. I didn't realize how much this affected my friends and family until now.
"You zoned out. Did I say something wrong?" I looked back at him and smiled. "No, Philly...I just got hit by a startling realization." I chuckled then lifted my free hand to his face and brushed a stray strand of hair behind his ear; he smiled back at me, but from the look in his eyes, I could tell there was a hint of concern. He leaned into the warmth of my hand and gave the one he was holding a gentle squeeze. "I really meant it, though. I miss you" "Yeah, I miss you too." He squeezed my hand again and then stood up; when did he put out his cigarette? "I think mom's almost done dinner. We should go in" He tilted his head towards the door, and I followed him inside.
A knock on the front door interrupted my conversation with Wendy as we waited for dinner. It was Judd. "Hey! Look, who decided to join us," I said as he walked into the kitchen. "Y/n? Goodness, you've grown up." I laughed and hugged him. "I look the same, Judd. You, on the other hand," I teased, causing him to roll his eyes.
A few more welcomes were given out, and Hillary had put everything on the dinner table; I sat across from Phillip, and Wendy sat to my right. "So... How's the job going, Phillip?" Judd asked, and Phillip shrugged. "It's good, Exhausting but good. I mean, Paul can be a pain in the ass occasionally, but we're not butting heads as much anymore." "That's better than good, Phillip. You seem to be maturing," I say, making Wendy laugh. "Maturing? Phillip? Oh Gosh, I hope so; it's about time." He groaned; I looked over at him; His shoulders seemed to slump as he ate. Gently I tapped his leg with my foot, and he looked up at me.
"I think it's great that he's finally able to stand on his own and show that he can care for himself. I haven't been around for a while, but I have seen a tremendous change." As I spoke, I kept my eyes on his with a smile.
That seemed to bring back his confidence and goofiness; even though Phillip's siblings could be tough on him, they loved him and were proud, but sometimes he needed someone else to believe in him.
The rest of the dinner went by with a calmer air and laughter.
Hillary decided to go to bed right after. Phillip and I volunteered to wash the dishes so Judd could relax from his flight and Wendy could put the babes to sleep.
"But you're right; I guess I didn't realize how much I depended on their opinions of me. Especially Wendy's. It just crushed me a bit when she said that." He paused and passed me a plate to dry. "I'm the family screw-up trying to redeem himself, but it's hard when I feel like no one actually believes I can do it. I know it's kinda like the boy who cried wolf story but still..." His voice began to break, and he stopped moving; his hands rested in the soapy water.
I felt something bump against my hip. Did I zone out again?
"What're you thinking about?" I looked over at Philip, who was washing the dishes beside me; he must have bumped me. I held a plate in my hand while drying it. I bit my lip. "About you," I admitted; he looked at me with his brows raised in surprise, then went back to washing more dishes. "Me? Why?" He asked, "I was thinking about what Wendy said at dinner. It seemed to kinda...deflate you." He chuckled and shook his head. "You read me like an open book. You know that, Y/n?" "Mm..Do I? It must be because of how long I've known you, I guess" "So. What about it?" "I don't know; it's just...I feel like you don't believe in yourself as much as you should, and your siblings' opinions of you are more important than yours." He had just about dropped a plate into the sink when I finished speaking. "Fuck. Is it that obvious?" I shook my head. "You're psychic, I swear..." "You used to say that all the time when you were a kid." I laughed out
"You are not a screw-up. Do you hear me? There is absolutely nothing wrong with making mistakes. You don't see how amazing you truly are, but I can. And I wouldn't call that a screw-up." His eyebrows were furrowed when I spoke. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him down to my level, his head nuzzled into my neck, and his arm wrapped around me in a tight, almost bone-crushing hug. "If anyone screwed up, it'd be me," I mumbled to myself, but it caused him to pull back and look into my eyes; he didn't say anything, but his expression said enough. "I should have never left." Our arms were still around each other. "Why do you say that? Don't you have everything you wanted? You have your dream job and live in the big city like you always wanted." I sighed, pulling him into another hug. My head rested against his chest. I stood there for a moment, thinking about his question. I hadn't told anyone yet. Not even Wendy knows. I looked up at him and met his gaze. "No...I blew the job on my first week, and I live in an apartment with three roommates. I work as a receptionist at a hotel across the street." His expression didn't really change from the one earlier, but he pulled me in tighter "Why did you never come home...?" I laid my head back against his chest, and he placed his chin atop my head. "You should understand better than anyone." I muttered, "Everyone was so excited for me, and I made the promise to my parent's that I'd come home successful and make them proud." My words made his hold on me incredibly tighter. "Oh- Phillip. You're gonna squeeze the life out of me." I wheezed out, and he chuckled, letting go of me, but he locked his fingers together as they were around my waist, Only letting me go so far. "What're you trying to do" I laughed, looking at him. He shrugged. "Thought maybe if I hugged you tight enough, all that pain and guilt and feelings of failure would be transferred to me." he smiled softly as I continued to laugh. "Oh Philly, If that were possible, I'd never let you take on all my pain" That look is back, His furrowed brows and slightly pouty lip. I removed my arms from around his neck, placing my hands on his face. "I'm okay. Okay?" I nodded as I spoke, then turned out of his hold; he was quiet the rest of the time we did the dishes. I told him I'd put them away and that he should go to bed. But instead, he went outside.
 It broke my heart to see him like this; this wasn't the usual Phillip Altman I knew. No, this was someone entirely different, someone I didn't know...maybe I would have if I'd never left.
I pulled his hand from the water and turned him to face me; he wouldn't look into my eyes, so I placed my hands on his face to make him,
 When I finished putting everything away, I joined him. "So. Little Altman, do you remember any of my impromptu astronomy classes?" I asked quietly as I sat beside him; he sat in one of the outdoor dining chairs, a cigarette between his lips. "Hmm? Maybe? " He took a drag from it, then put it out. "I remember Orion, big and little dipper. The open cluster called p- something" "Pleiades" "Yeah, that. I think I remember where the other eight planets are." I smiled at him, "I bet you don't remember the names of the stars that make up ursa minor" "Is that a challenge? Y/n. The little dipper is my favorite constellation." "I know. So yes, it is a challenge."
Philip stood up and walked back into the house to turn off the backlight. When he came back out, he had two blankets; he laid one down on the grass and then called me over. He sat down after me and wrapped the second one around our shoulders. We sat with barely an inch between us.
"Okay. So. Let's start with the trapezoid part first. The biggest star is Kochab, below that is Pherkad, and right of that is Eta Ursae Minoris. Above that one is Zeta Ursae Minoris. Now for the tail, we have in order starting with Zeta, it goes to Epsilon Ursae minoris, Yildun, and ending with my favorite, Polaris. The North Star. " Each time he'd say a different name, he'd point to the exact one, Not missing a single beat.
But I wasn't really paying attention, I suppose; I observed him. He's so much more grown-up...It's almost like he's a different person now. A heavy sigh left my lips, catching his attention. "Did I get something wrong?" He asked as he looked down at me, our eyes meeting briefly before I inhaled sharply, then looked up at the star-covered sky. "No, you did amazingly. You've always been good with astronomy." "It's only because I liked my Tutor. She was always more interesting than Mr. Elks." My eyes met his again, they were playful, but something sad lingered behind them. "I guess I was pretty great; Mr. Elks was a bore. He never made it fun and always made us do written projects instead of fun physical science." I groaned out, rolling my eyes. "We made a...Uh, what do you call those things? You put them above baby cribs." "A mobile?" "Yea, a mobile, That's all we got to do, and it's still hanging in the classroom." I laughed. "I should sneak you into the reunion so you can go snatch it and put it in your bedroom" "Oh, you should! That's a great idea. Plus, you are allowed a plus one." He wiggled his eyebrows; I was about to say yes, let's do that. But then, something painful struck my mind.
-What would people think if they saw that I brought Phillip as my plus one? Would they assume we were together or something? We're almost seven years apart. Gosh, would people see me differently if they thought I was dating my best friend's baby brother? What if-
"Y/n/n?" His voice pulled me out of my overthinking, and quickly, I stood up. The cold air erupted goose bumps along my skin. He looked up at me, surprised.
"S-sorry. I totally would, but. It just might not be a good idea. Um, I think I should go to bed. I'll see you in the morning-" Philip's larger hand grabbed mine quickly, causing me to fall into his lap. My face flushed a soft red as I looked into his eyes. What is happening? This is the annoying little punk who would always try and start a fight with me or make me look at his baseball cards with him. Why do I feel like a teenage girl with her first crush?
"I know you...You're probably thinking that if you took me to the reunion, everyone from your class would think you're dating me. Or that they'll think you're some creep that's into guys almost a decade younger than you. But would that be so bad?" I gasped at his question; he held onto me by the waist, his eyes bore into mine, a look of something new in his eyes. Something that I knew from other men but not him.
He leaned in and slotted his lips against my own. They were warm; he tasted like honey and cigarettes; my mind felt fuzzy as I returned his kiss. But the moment ended as soon as it started, I pulled away. It felt like a bucket of ice-cold water was dropped onto me. "S-sorry...Phillip. I-" He shook his head. "No...I get it. Just had to kiss you at least once in my life." I looked at him, startled. Like a deer in headlights, "What? Is it that surprising to find out I like you? I kind of hinted at it earlier." I shook my head, still sitting on his lap. "No...Um, I just assumed it was like a sister kinda like?" I admitted, and it was his turn to shake his head. He chuckled. "Yeah, No. Y/n. I've had a massive crush on you since I was in like middle school. I mean, I always knew nothing would ever happen between us, but I figured maybe one day I'd kiss you."  I fell silent for a few moments; he allowed me some air to process this new information. He stared up at the sky before he spoke. "How about this, Since I know you'll probably be overthinking it for a while. I'll mark this off on my bucket list, and you can forget it even happened." He looked back down at me. I nodded in response. "Yeah. That...might be a good idea." soon after, we decided to go back inside and go to bed.
But I don't think either of us slept that night. How could I forget about it? It was such a wonderful, albeit short, Kiss. I could still feel the warmth of his lips long after I got up the next morning.
"Good morning, everyone. You're all up early." I said as I walked through the kitchen; there was a small assortment of breakfast foods spread across the countertops. "Where's Phillip?" Wendy asked, "How should I know? He's probably still asleep." I responded as I grabbed a bowl of cereal, "Could you go wake him up? He'll be less cranky if you do it." I sighed, yea...now I know why. "Sure. He needs to get up anyways." I feigned annoyance, but in truth, my body was screaming at me to just avoid him. Damn it, Phillip, why'd you have to kiss me and make things difficult.
Reluctantly I walked up the stairs, I stood in front of his door, but as I was reaching up to knock on the door, I heard this soft, muffled sound that sounded very close to a moan. I blinked a few times at the door, my hand still raised. I listened and heard it again. This time it sounded like my name. No... He's not. Is he? I stifled a groan before I pounded my fist onto his door, "Hey! Get up. Your family wants you downstairs to eat breakfast." There was silence behind the door; good. He needs to be startled. Punk. Then I heard some shuffling. The door opened to find a half-naked Philip Altman. His torso was toned and bare. His breath was heavy as he spoke, "Okay. I'll be down in a minute." I crossed my arms over my chest, and I could tell he was struggling to avoid looking at my chest. But then again, so was I. I cleared my throat and turned away. The door closed loudly; I heard a thump against it, then a low, groaned-out curse as I walked down the stairs.
"Why exactly are they having the reunion at the school?" I asked once I returned to the kitchen and sat down across from Wendy at the dining table. "Oh, Apparently, they got the idea to recreate our senior prom. So the school is allowing us to use the gym for the event." I scoffed. "Why senior prom? That was the worst thing to ever happen in school." "For you, maybe. But others actually enjoyed it." "Yeah, well, the others didn't find their boyfriend getting head from the cheer captain." "Woah, okay. Language, got kids here, Y/n," Judd calmly scolded, "Sorry. But still. Senior Prom was the worst night of my life, and honestly, I don't want to relive it."
"Then don't go; stay here with me and babysit." I hear Phillip say as he sat down in the seat beside me. "No, Phillip. She has to go, she already agreed, and I won't let her back out." I rolled my eyes; I felt Phillip bump his knee against mine, and I bumped him back; this was something we often did when I'd come over for breakfast before school; it makes sense now why he'd always sit beside me. "Do I have to wear a dress then?" Wendy shrugged as she ate, "It's optional, but they did mention that they'd prefer if you wore formal clothing. I know Teddy Fredrickson is taking Lindsey as his date, like during prom, they said they're going to wear the same things they did that night." I grumbled as I ate my cereal; Phillip glanced at me, and he tapped my foot with his. I looked over at him, and he seemed confused. "Lindsey is the one I found Anthony with. She was dating Teddy in high school." "Oh, It turns out that he knew they were hooking up, but he didn't care; they got married two years ago and have a kid." I raised my brows in surprise at Wendy's comment. "Huh. Who did Anthony marry then?" "No clue; she didn't go to our school, But she is coming as his plus one." I nodded and finished off my bowl, lifting it up to drink the milk. I wiped my mouth and stood up from my seat. "You wanna go shopping, Wendy?" I asked as I put my bowl in the sink. "Oh, yes, please." "Oh, why don't I drive you two around? That way, Judd can get a break from us, and Mom can enjoy some much-needed time with the grands." Phillip offered, I was about to recline, but Wendy beat me to the punch and accepted his invitation. "Well, we can't take your Porsche." I said as I started ascending the stairs, "No, but we could take your old Camaro." I gasped at Wendy's suggestion, "I doubt that thing even runs anymore! Dad probably keeps it in the garage." "Uh, no, actually. He lets me drive it when mine is in the shop. She purrs beautifully." Phillip corrected, I rolled my eyes and nodded. "Alright, go get her then." I hear a triumphant cheer downstairs.
Ah...My old 1969 Chevrolet Camaro Z/28, it's very, very old. My grandfather bought it when he first moved here from the city with my grandmother and ten-year-old dad. That car was given to my dad when he turned sixteen then my father did the same with me. We never treated it like it was a special display piece. I'm not even sure how much of it is still its original self. It's been in a lot of accidents, and my grandfather was a mechanic, so he would always put it back together each time. My father followed in his footsteps. I wonder how Phillip got ahold of it.
"Wendy, how much longer is he going to take?" I asked her as we stood outside on the porch; she shrugged and held her little girl. Hillary came out and took the child in her arms just as Phillip was pulling up to the curb. "You girls coming or what?" I flipped him off, making him burst into a fit of giggles; walking over, I leaned in to peer my head into the open window to look at him. "You're a little Punk; you know that?" I smirked playfully; he smiled and leaned over the passenger seat, his face close to mine; I could feel his breath against my lips, he glanced down, and I followed his eyes as he began winding the window back up. "You little!-" I backed up away from the car; I could see him snickering. I huffed and pulled the door open, "Brat." I muttered as he pushed the passenger seat down. "You know it, Y/n. Always and forever" I didn't miss the long stare he gave my ass when I climbed in and sat down. I swatted his arm. "Ow, what was that for." "This morning," I said as calmly as possible. I looked into the rearview to see his face flush deep red, "Y-Y/n, I can explain-" He mumbled out but was cut off by Wendy, "Explain what? And why is your face red? Are you drunk already?" I laughed quietly. "I found him hiding a pack of cigs this morning when I went to wake him up." Wendy nodded as she got into her seat in front. "That's not unusual, but why is his face red." "I guess he's just not used to my teasing anymore." I shrugged.
Phillip drove us around town to every little store we wanted to see, but now it was just him and I in the car; Wendy wanted to go into a children's store, but I wasn't very interested in it at the moment.
I leaned in between the front seats and rested my elbows on the center console. "You should probably start explaining." He looked over at me with wide eyes. "Not so cocky today now, are we?" "Well, there's a difference between last night and this morning, Y/n." I hummed and looked out the windshield. "How so?" He cleared his throat and pulled out a cigarette. "For instance, I planned on kissing you. I didn't plan on you hearing me rubbing one out the thought of you," he spoke as he lit it. Damn, how could he be so blunt? "If you get caught, own it," he muttered, and I smiled at him. "Is that a common occurrence then?" he shook his head. "It's usually not you I think about, but that kiss has me all fucked up," he admitted as he blew the smoke out of the open window. "Maybe it's best we both try and forget it happened so we don't have another accidental occurrence," I suggested, but he didn't seem to like the idea. "Fuck no. I've waited for that moment since eighth grade. It'll be fine. This morning was a one-time thing. I promise." "Good." I sat back in my seat and watched him from his side mirror.   Wendy came out not too long after, scolding Phillip for smoking in the car. "where to now, ladies?" he asked.
I should never have said anything. Because now I'm trying on dresses.
"Meh, Purple isn't really your color." I hear Philip say as I take a slow spin. He decided to join us with the excuse of needing some air conditioning. "Yeah, he's right. Try the blue one on. I'm gonna go look for a pair of shoes, so Phillip, let me know what you think." Phillip gave her a thumbs up as I turned to go back into the changing room, the long floor-to-ceiling curtain returning to its closed position when I pulled it closed.
"They were right, the purple isn't my color, but I doubt raspberry blue is going to be any better," I whispered to myself as I slipped out of the dress; as I was fixing the spaghetti strap on my shoulder, the curtain opened, I turned to the entrance and was about to speak, but Phillip slipped a finger to his lips, a smirk hiding behind it. His eyes selfishly took their time scanning my body. The dress was a blue, belle Swiss dot, twist front tie, backless wrap, cami. It was very pretty, but I didn't feel it suited me well, and his eyes only caused my insecurity to grow. I was never a fan of dresses or showing too much skin, so having someone stare at me was nerve-wracking. "Holy-" Philip breathed out, his hand falling to his side; he took a step closer, almost close enough for us to touch. "What..? does it look dumb?" I ask as the strap slides down my shoulder; he's quick to fix it. His fingers seemed to burn against my skin. He breathed out a quiet laugh. "No. Damn...You just look so pretty. It took my breath away," I rolled my eyes and shoved his shoulder gently. "No, I mean it. Come on, spin. Let me see you." He requested, taking a step back. No one had really ever spoken to me like that...That honestly. Anthony was my only long-term boyfriend, and he was only a sweet talker when he wanted something. Phillip was sincere, and it made me happy; I did as he asked. "So?" "You look hot. Like, really Hot. You'll Make Anthony Kennett wish he treated you right." I laughed and turned around to the three-piece mirror that stood almost as tall as me. I played with the skirt of the dress, and again the strap fell; I went to fix it, but Philip did it first, his front pressed to my back, leaning down slightly to place a kiss on my bare shoulder as he fixed the strap, he pulled back and adjusted them both, then his eyes met mine in the mirror. Darkness filled them, something I think I could get lost in if I wasn't careful. Looking away, I cleared my throat. "So, you think I should get it?" he nodded. "Definitely." I smiled at him, and he left the changing room.
"Did you find one?" "yeah, I'm getting the blue one." "Oh yeah? What made you pick that one?" "Revenge." Wendy looked at me, surprised, but I just smiled at her.
We spent the rest of the day just enjoying our time and taking a nice drive around; we didn't get home until four-thirty. Just before dinner. "How was your shopping, girls? Did you find anything nice?" Hillary asked as we sat down at the table. I told her I'd show her my dress after dinner, and Wendy told her about everything she had bought. After dinner, it was the same routine as the night before.
"About earlier, I meant everything I said. It's a one-time thing, and you looked beautiful in that dress. Not saying you aren't beautiful now...because you are," I looked over at him when he paused, his eyes gazing into mine. "You're always beautiful." My breathing hitched, and I dropped the plate I was drying; it fell to the floor between us and shattered. "Oh, Shit!" I cursed, jumping back, Phillip laughed as he crouched down to pick up the pieces, but I swatted him on the head; he looked up at me and cocked his head to the side. "Don't pick them up with your bare hands, Idiot. Let me get a broom." I walked over to the pantry to grab the broom and helped him clean up the glass. As we finished the dishes, I turned and leaned my back against the counter, drying off the last glass before setting it on the counter; I watched Phillip put away stuff on the higher shelves that I couldn't reach. "Hey, Thank you." "Hmm? For what?" he asked "Your kind words. I'm not used to it." "Yeah, I got that when you dropped the plate," he teased, turning around to face me.
He stood only a foot away from me. "I can't take it," he admitted with a sigh. "Can't take what?" "You." He took a step in, his hands resting on the counter on either side of me, caging me in. I swallowed the lump in my throat and asked, "Why me?" He smirked at me, "Why not you? You have me wrapped around your little finger; you've been playing with me all day. I expected the whole crush thing to go away after the kiss. I know it's only been one day, but I crave more...More of you." I gasped at his words; his breath fanned over my face. He smelled like smoke and strawberry dish soap. It was intoxicating. "Phillip-" "I don't care." He leaned in closer, his nose nuzzling against my cheek as he inhaled, "You need to stop worrying about what others will think. It's not like it'd be Illegal if we hooked up, Y/n."
His hands lifted from the countertop and found their places on my hips; I leaned into his touch. It was warm and inviting, but that little bug in my mind wouldn't keep quiet. He's right, It's only seven years, and we're both adults. It's not illegal. But he is my best friend's little brother; I grew up with him. It's wrong, No matter how much I want it.
 I put my hands on his chest and pushed gently, but he didn't budge; he just pulled his face away to look into my eyes. "Y/n.." he breathed out my name, his gaze was heavy on mine, and I shut my eyes. I was conflicted, and I knew he could see it. I felt his breath against my ear before he spoke softly, "No one has to know." His hands squeezed my hips to emphasize his point; my breath hitched when I felt him kiss that spot behind my ear.
He pulled back, and his warmth was gone. "Open your eyes; look at me" I shook my head; he lifted a hand to my face, gently rubbing his thumb under my eye; he leaned in a kissed me. It was sweet but electrifying; my eyes shot open he pulled back only slightly. "I'm not some little kid anymore. I'm a man now" I smiled at his words, and he gave one back, his hand sliding back down to my hip. "Oh, there you are, finally leaving your shell, huh?" he asked, and I rolled my eyes playfully. "You're right. You're not a kid; You're different now."
"Damn right, I am." My hands were still on his chest; I looked down at them and then slid them around his neck, pulling him into another kiss. It was heated and passionate he pushed his body against mine, deepening the kiss; his tongue grazed my bottom lip, asking for entrance. I didn't stand a chance once his tongue slid against mine; I moaned softly into the kiss. I felt his grip tighten on my hips, then slide up my sides. Finding their way under my shirt, pulling and kneading on any skin they could find. It felt wonderful, he knew what he was doing, and it gave me some comfort as I threaded my fingers through the dark locks of hair at the bottom of his neck; I gently pulled on them, causing him to groan; his hands slipped from under my shirt and back to hips. Carefully, he lifted me up and sat me on the counter; his body stood between my thighs. The kiss never faltered, only growing more passionate with every peck and graze, every nip or clash of teeth. Gently he bit my lower lip, pulling on it before letting go and kissing me once more. I sighed against his lips; my breath was heavy and labored.  "Y/n dear! Are you going to show me the dress you bought?" Hillary yelled from the living room; Phillip and I pulled away quickly, startled by his mother. "Shit-" He whispered as he helped me down off the counter. We could hear her footsteps approaching. I fixed my shirt and hair quickly before grabbing a hand towel, pretending I was drying my hands. "Yeah! Just a minute!" I turned to Phillip, who had begun to walk outside. "Where are you going?" I asked him quietly, "I'll be out here when you're done. kay?" I smiled, and he returned it; nodding, I turned around to go into the living room. "Let me just go and put it on real quick," I said to Hillary, "Alright! I'm excited to see it."
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purestxblood · 1 year
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𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗖 𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧
Hello wonderfuls, ♡ thank you so much for taking the time to check out my miscellaneous main list. Comments, likes, & reblogs are always appreciated as I love to hear your thoughts.
Like every talented writer, I do not give permission for any of my works to be translated, rewritten, copied and posted on platforms other than my own accounts here on Tumblr & Wattpad unless stated otherwise.
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☁️ 𝗙𝗟𝗨𝗙𝗙. 💌: 𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟 𝗙𝗔𝗩𝗢𝗥𝗜𝗧𝗘. 🌑: 𝗗𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗠𝗘𝗦. 🌶️: 𝗦𝗠𝗨𝗧.
𝗔𝗗𝗔𝗠 𝗗𝗥𝗜𝗩𝗘𝗥 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗦.
𝗧𝗔𝗞𝗘 𝗠𝗘 𝗛𝗢𝗠𝗘, 𝘱𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘱 𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘮𝘢𝘯. ☁️ 🌶️ 💌
You weren’t teenagers anymore, that was the problem. You were old lovers discovering new versions of the other and if you allowed this to continue, you feared what would transpire. You both were always courageous, spontaneous without thought or reason. So be it.
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Hi Philly, you having a good day? *kisses and snuggles*
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Sweet lips... missed you
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Always having a good day when I hear from you. Just bought some new wheels, fancy coming with me for a test drive?
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candycanes19 · 1 year
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Updated "Not the Plan" with Phillip Altman
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pxgeturner · 2 years
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Ima write smth for Philip n if y’all let it flop like the Henry Creel fic istg ima go ballistic.
Comment if u wannabe tagged ig.
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