#phillip altman fluff

[waywardrose]

MASTERLIST

Under the cut are x-reader fics for:

Flip Zimmerman (BlacKkKlansman)

Pale (Burn This)

Ronnie Peterson (The Dead Don’t Die)

Adam Sackler (HBO’s Girls)

Jacques le Gris (The Last Duel)

Clyde Logan (Logan Lucky)

Charlie Barber (Marriage Story)

Abraham H. Parnassus (Saturday Night Live)

Kylo Ren (Star Wars)

Armitage Hux (Star Wars)

Eddie Munson (Stranger Things)

Phillip Altman (This Is Where I Leave You)

+ Miscellaneous fics (and more! 👀)

updated: September 25, 2024

Follow me on:

AO3

Wattpad

Discord: waywardrose

BLACKKKLANSMAN

reader x flip zimmerman

🌹 A Reintroduction

rating: teen+, 1.5k, gender-neutral!reader, flip is dishonest, but also thirsty, drug-dealing mention

Flip. Your Flip is with the cops. He has a gun and a badge and everything.

That didn’t make any sense.

🌹 Flashfic: Flip could get it ✊

🌹 Flashfic: How do you think Flip would react to his wife’s changing body during pregnancy?

🌹 Flashfic: How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

🌹 Flashfic: How do they picture their future with their s/o?

🌹 The Handler

rating: explicit, 4.4k, sexism, violence, abusive language, blood (bc of the violence), drug mention, guns mention, child sex-trafficking mention, rape threat, jealousy, fighting

You propped your cowboy boot on the table edge and took a long drink of beer. No one sitting at the  table with you paid your rudeness any mind. In fact, Johnny Claiborne  promptly placed his callused hand on your bare knee.

🌹 It’s Too Late To Turn Back Now

rating: teen, 2.1k, past physical-abuse mention, brief injury description, off-screen murder, period-typical sexism

The first time Flip saw you, you were bruised and cuffed. The scuttlebutt around the precinct was you had run over and murdered your abusive ex-boyfriend.

🌹 Queen of the Roller Derby

rating: mature, 2.3k, vague injury description, anachronistic sports teams and organizations

He couldn’t believe… Well, a lot of things. First, that he’d been invited. Second, that he was looking forward to the bout. Third, that he was anxious for your well-being.

🌹 NSFW Alphabet Series

ABC | DE | FGH | IJK | LMN | OP | QRS | TU | V | WXYZ

Bonus: My five favorite things about Flip Zimmerman

rating: explicit, 32k, stand-alone vignettes, oral sex, fluff, angst with happy ending, masturbation, daddy kink, public and semi-public sex, kind-of somnophilia, drug use, under-negotiated bondage and spanking, soft domming, ass play

Your legs went limp on Flip’s shoulders, and you felt him eased them down to the bed. He ran his big hands up your sides and then under your back as he bent forward.

🌹 Still the Same

rating: explicit, 13k, fem!reader, high-school!flip+reader, vaguely 1969 (with  inaccuracies), fingering, handjobs, pining, military draft/service (with inaccuracies), colorado setting, period-typical drug use, magical first time, angst with happy ending

He cracked the window, letting in the crisp spring air. It was too dark to see where specifically he was looking, but he had turned to face  you. One hand remained on the steering wheel, the other over the back of the seat.

He offered, “Wanna get in the back?”

“Sure,” you said, dropping your purse on the floor, and opened your door.

🌹 Three-day Weekend

rating: explicit, 3.2k, daddy kink, daddy dom, reader is not a little, off-screen negotiation, edging, oral sex, mild spanking

You  woke to a hot hand sliding across your bare middle and lips kissing your shoulder. There was the tickle of whiskers, and you turned your head towards disruption. With a sigh, you opened your eyes to watch Flip kiss your shoulder again. He looked up at you as his hand traveled under the sheet bunched below your waist.

“Mornin’, baby,” he said. His voice was sleep-rough yet tender.

🌹 Triple-Feature

rating: mature, 2.8k, old-fashioned living arrangements, making out

The Aircadia Drive-In was running a classic-horror triple-feature this Saturday night. You read in the paper they were playing The Wolf Man, Frankenstein, and Dracula. That evening, you rang Flip and asked him out on a date. You even offered to pay.

🌹 You Ain’t Seen Nothing Yet

rating: mature, 2.8k, detective reader, estranged married couple, smoking, period-typical sexism, dirty talk

…you balanced your mother’s big Tupperware container filled with homemade Samoas cookies. They were Flip’s favorite, and he detested sharing them. But he would have to—because you were famous around the station for your cookies.

You hoped he only got one. It would serve him right.

🌹 You Can Leave Your Skates On

rating: explicit, 2k, almost uniform kink, roller derby mention, clothed female naked male

The sink counter was strewn with make-up and hair tools and the pair of scissors from the kitchen. Before he could ask what the hell all this was for, you kissed his cheek and closed the bathroom door behind him.

Spiritual sequel to Queen of the Roller Derby

🌹 You Light Up My Life

rating: teen, 1.4k, sneakiness, secrets, fluffy married life

The first time you knew something was up was when Flip started his car and hurried to change the radio station.

🌹 You’re the Inspiration

rating: teen, 854, past alcohol abuse, fluffy afternoon

Flip sat in his switched off car and stared at the dark house. He wanted to break something.

BURN THIS

reader x pale

🌹 In the Night We Trust | playlist on spotify

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

rating: explicit, 57k, pretty woman au, prostitute reader, 1980s/90s, drug use  mention, alcohol consumption, inherent power imbalance, soft dom, choking (not breathplay), safe sex, oral sex, semi-public sex, public dirty talk, rough sex, mild spanking, fighting, abusive language, attempted sexual assault, aftercare

“So tell me, Pale, are you in town on business or pleasure?”

“Business…” He looks at your lips. “Until now.”

THE DEAD DON’T DIE

reader x ronald peterson

🌹 A Grave New World

rating: teen+, 804, canon-typical violence, missing parents

You’d only gone on one date—a really nice date, too—with Ronnie Peterson and then the zombie apocalypse happened. Like, what the actual fuck?

GIRLS (HBO)

reader x adam sackler

🌹 Flashfic: …imagine him trying to cuddle and smooch his gf in public and she’s like “😬😬 what are you doing…? Mmm, I guess it’s not so bad”

🌹 Flashfic: please. please tell me about licking sackler’s sack. its all i can think about. my mind has been infected by thoughts of adam sacklers balls in my mouth

🌹 Improving His Taste

rating: teen+, 2.2k, post s05e10, arguments with SO, making out

You were so sick of Adam Sackler and his tempestuous girlfriends.

🌹 Let Me Explain

rating: teen+, 1.2k, light angst, happy ending

“Whoa, let me explain!” Adam implored while teetering in patent leather stilettos, a chef’s knife with slices of carrot sticking to it in his hand. He grabbed the kitchen counter with his left to steady himself.

🌹 There Is A Light (That Never Goes Out)

rating: explicit, 4.3k, canon-typical buffoonery, jealousy, brief non-con element, femdom-ish reader, oral sex

“Take off your clothes,” he murmured after kissing you. “And crawl to my bed.”

THE LAST DUEL

reader x jacques le gris

🌹 Fair Is Foul

rating: teen, 1.8k, historical inaccuracies, timeline inaccuracies, anachronisms, medieval  flirting, sad/open ending, minor spoilers(?), rape mention

The other ladies at court told you not to demean yourself by keeping company with a squire. You pointed out that said squire had Count Pierre’s favor. Said squire might even be favored above any knight.

🌹 To Honor and Innocence

rating: mature, 5.3k, fem!reader, young!jacques, historical/jousting inaccuracies, ✨the  middle ages were magic✨, catholic imagery, reader has a spring/summer birthday, just roll with me, making out, thigh riding, euphemisms galore

You needed to look away, but you couldn’t. He was striking with the sudden high color in his cheeks and glittering eyes. His smile softened around the edges, and your heart soared at the sight.

Look away, you’d told yourself. Look away before you lose yourself.

LOGAN LUCKY

reader x clyde logan

🌹 A Newer World

rating: teen, 1.3k, PTSD symptom mention

Jimmy leaned across the patio table, bottle of Coors in hand. “So, when you gonna make an honest woman outta her?”

🌹 Lucky Me Lucky You | duck tape jukebox on spotify | ambient mix by Sushii

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

Bonus: NSFW Alphabet [2.1k]

rating: explicit, 33k, counter-espionage, angst with happy ending, alcohol consumption

You’d had big plans for your future. He’d had big plans, too. During senior year, you’d overheard him talking before class about joining the Army. You had thought about him in that service uniform and how handsome he would look.

Thirteen years later, Clyde was tending bar, sans uniform and missing part of his left arm. At the same time, you were working at the data-entry/call-center down the road from the house you inherited from your late grandmother.

So much for big plans.

🌹 When I Saw You

rating: mature/explicit, 3k, hairdresser!reader, touch-starved!clyde, post movie, erotic fantasies

In his fantasies, he always has both hands.

Which he knows is ironic.

MARRIAGE STORY

reader x charlie barber

🌹 Finding Treasure in the Dark

1 | 2

rating: explicit, 18k, submissive!female-reader, dom!charlie, under-negotiated bdsm, impact play, nipple play, oral sex, anal sex, piv sex, restraints, rope bondage, edging, semi-public fingering, sex toys, handjobs, public teasing

“Yes!“ she hissed in delight. "I told Professor Barber straight out I didn’t do that crap. Or let him boss me around. That’s why I dropped him, you know. If he wants some Stepford to indulge his impulses, he should go to Fetster or whatever.”

Your eyes went wide, and you shifted in your seat, faux-yawning and stretching your arms to cover the movement. You knew Charlie Barber.

🌹 Sweet Angel

rating: explicit, 3k, fluff, dog adoption, insecure!Charlie, piv sex

Since moving to a house with a fenced yard, Henry has been focused on getting a dog. First, it was getting a puppy for Christmas. When that hadn’t panned out, a dog for his birthday. Nicole wouldn’t install a real fence at her place, but tried to distract him with a new iPad.

That worked for a month.

SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE

reader x abraham h. parnassus

🌹 Flashfic: …what would young!Abe do for his wife on [Valentine’s Day]??

🌹 Flashfic: Abe Parnassus vibes jacquesdemys.tumblr com/post/125815250515

🌹 His Girl On A Friday

rating: teen+, 1.2k, corporate espionage, seduction

You’ve been sent by your father, Henry Pickens, to spy on his rival: Abraham H. Parnassus.

🌹 Indulgences

rating: mature, 1.5k, fem!reader, vaguely 1950s, old-fashioned euphemisms, dub-con-ish at first, public fingering, mild edging

It’s official: Don Carlos is boring. Yes, it’s a fundraiser. And of course, you agreed to purchase tickets. Anything to support The Met. But this opera, while beautiful, is dull.

🌹 My Baby Just Cares for Me Series

rating: explicit, sheltered-artist reader, vaguely 1950s, no vintage racism, written with old-fashioned sensibilities and euphemisms, oral sex, alcohol consumption, semi-public sex, sex toys, vaginal fingering, first time

— Expanding One’s Horizons [5k]

“We all need to expand our horizons,” you said as you went to the dining room to turn off the lights.

“Indeed we do, my love.”

— Tension Tamer [3k]

The  mattress trembled under you. The softly lit face of your alarm clock said it was after three. You knew it must be work that had awoken him. The company was in the middle of a merger and tensions were high.

— A Treasure More Than Gold [2.2k]

You met your husband’s eyes across the dance floor of Hotel Astor’s ballroom. He’d let his five o'clock shadow develop into a short Vandyke beard in preparation for Babe Paley’s Halloween gala.

— Minx [2.7k]

Abe groaned into the coverlet as you pressed your thumbs on either side of his spine. His muscles were slowly losing their tightness. You didn’t think his desk chair at work was supporting him properly. Most likely, he never sat in it except to sign documents.

— It’s Magic [4.4k]

Don’t go to art school, they said.

— Two To Tango [7k]

You sat at the bistro table tucked in the corner of the pasticceria. Abe sat across from you, tiny plates of bite-sized cake on the table between you.

STAR WARS

general

🌹 The Skywalker Ascension

rating: teen, 4.5k, tros revision, mc death, angst, lightsaber battles, retcon timeline

“All the Sith live in me,” he vows. “You will be empress, and we will be one.”

While disgust churns her gut, she will not hate, she will not give in.

To him or to anyone.

🌹 Unsanctioned

rating: general, 371, universe jumping, pre-tfa, my poor attempt at humor

You’re taking the walk of shame to the kitchen, arms full of dirty dishes.

kylo ren x armitage hux

🌹 Bombing Out

rating: mature, 1.4k, canon compliant, cannoli kylux, gambling, strip sabacc, alcohol consumption, afterlife, mutual pining, arguing

He didn’t know why he was playing sabacc. He didn’t like card games. There was hardly any strategy. No planning. Everything was left to chance. It was messy. And the gambling. He didn’t mind risk, of course, but one had to match their opponents’ bets. Which meant the opponent had too much control.

It was idiotic.

About as idiotic as his opponent, Ben Solo—

Who had literally lost his shirt last round.

🌹 Iron Moon Series on AO3 | photoset | spotify playlist by ayudameme

rating: explicit, 36k, canon universe, xeno-vampires, canon-typical violence, the first order wins, soft kylux, but with blood, knife play, blood drinking

He wanted to taste it, lick it all up. He wanted to run his tongue along the cauterized edges of the cut on Ren’s face. He wanted to follow it down under Ren’s ruined clothing.

reader x armitage hux

🌹 Flashfic: Armitage Hux is low key hot

🌹 Flashfic: I want Hux to throat fuck me

🌹 Succor

rating: mature, 2.4k, shy princess reader, fo-leader hux, the first order won, arranged marriage, dirty talk

You felt your dinner guests’ eyes on you, their judgements. You ignored them while hiding behind the courtly rituals you’d been taught since childhood.

reader x kylo ren | ben solo

🌹 All the Time in the Galaxy

rating: teen, 1.9k, kor reader, mutual pining, first kiss

“Lady Ren, pardon the interruption—” You didn’t know what he was  interrupting. You were both standing in silence. “—The techs have noticed something strange here on Starkiller.”

🌹 Call It In the Ring Series

rating: teen-mature, college au, art-majors kylo and reader, first date, sibling fights, nude photography, assisted masturbation, phone sex, fingering

— Hotshot House Show [2.5k]

You checked the address one more time on your phone. It was right, but definitely not what you expected when Kylo offered to make you dinner.

— Worked Shoot [5k]

Photography midterms were due in two weeks, and you only had one of the four photos you needed. You silently berated yourself because you’d known this was coming. It was on the damn syllabus.

But who actually read the syllabus?

— Clean Finish [2k]

You couldn’t believe you were about to do this, you thought as you stood naked in front of the clean bathroom mirror. You didn’t know if Kylo would like it. What if he didn’t?

— Vignette [938]

Ben was all “Morning, beautiful” with a grin Flynn Rider would be proud of. He sat close to you on the sectional sofa—even though there were plenty available places to sit.

— Bonus: I want nothing more than to strip off his clothes piece by piece, kissing any and all skin bared to me.

— Dirty Pre-show [1.3k]

You’d washed at the sink in the studio, but ugh, your jeans are splattered with slip. You’re pretty sure you have some on your face, in your hair. Hell, even one of your ears feels crusty.

How the ever living fuck does it get everywhere?

🌹 Dum Dums

rating: teen, 2.3k, gender-neutral reader, suburban high-school au, fluff, mutual pining, mild angst with happy ending

“Your boyfriend’s looking this way again,” Poe sing-songed before taking a big bite of his apple.

You rolled your eyes, knowing exactly who he was talking about. “He’s not my boyfriend,” you reply as you set your bottle of water on the lunch tray.

🌹 Flashfic: Please the (fem-dom!reader) story from gc…. I NEED IT

🌹 Flashfic: FAM IM ON MY KNEES BEGGING YOU… PLEASE PLEASE WRITE SOMETHING ABOUT GIVING SMOOCHES TO FOREVER SAD BOY KYLO

🌹 Flashfic: How does Kylo spoil his lady?

🌹 Flashfic: So, what do you guys think is Kylo’s favorite way to kiss?

🌹 Hello

rating: mature(ish), 1k, modern au, dream-sharing, pining, possessiveness, nightmare elements, magic/force shenanigans

A phone rang. Burr-ring. Distant at first. Burr-ring. Clanging. Jarring. Burr-ring. It was too dark to find it. You groped around in the cool, damp blackness to find nothing. Burr-ring. You cursed just before your hand slapped against something cold and metal.

🌹 Me and The Devil Series

rating: mature-explicit, modern vampire au, dub con, death mention, blood drinking, menstruation, oral sex, biting, predator/prey

— Flashfic: …I want vampire!kylo to do *very* unspeakable things to me :)

— Flashfic: Very bored tonight and [thinking] about vamp!kylo, if you have any, what’re your favorite five about him?

— You’re My Sweetness [2.1k]

“You’re sad,” he murmured, a note of confusion in his words.

“Funerals tend to do that.”

“Let me make it better.”

— Red Wings [1.4k]

So, you laid there and bled onto an overnight pad that had to be the length of a regulation cricket bat.

— Flashfic: Do you have any thoughts on vampire Kylo sensually playing with you with his teeth?

— To Bring You My Love [9.4k]

“Biker gang? Pfft!” said your boss Vic in reply to a bar patron

The agitated patron continued, describing a group of bikers led by a dark-haired man with a scar bisecting his face.

You suppressed a shudder as you mixed a simple cocktail.

🌹 Not Like the Rest

rating: teen, 948, alcohol consumption, politics

So, Ben’s kept moving for years. He hustles. He’s on committees. He researches everyone around him. He schmoozes.

And he’s schmoozing during a dinner to honor a retiring staffer when he sees you.

🌹 On the Pulse of Mourning

rating: teen, 6.5k, ptsd, angst, disregarding an elder’s wisdom, force choking, force weirdness

He sat on the lowered ramp of his TIE and waited for the Resistance scouts to find him. He didn’t think it would take them long. He’d landed only two klicks from the base.

🌹 The Sofa King

rating: mature, 550, hs au, making out, frottage

Anonymous asked: Ben Solo is such a precious little baby I don't see him making the first move. He would be way too nervous. Like during a movie night you could literally be in his lap, rubbing his chest, purring into his ear and he would just keep his eyes locked on the screen, jaw locked, shifting uncomfortably, and he making silly comments about the movie.

reader x kylo ren x armitage hux

🌹 Precious Pet Series on AO3 | photoset | playlist on spotify

Bonus: NSFW Alphabet for Kylo and Hux [1.6k]

rating: explicit, 335k, canon universe, force-sensitive reader, departing from tfa, stockholm syndrome, force bond, everyone has issues

A hush suddenly fell over the village and you strained to hear anything. Was it over? Had the Order gotten what it wanted? You had a gnawing feeling it was only beginning.

The whoosh of energy—you couldn’t identify the noise, but you knew it wasn’t good—pierced the air. There was a collective horrified gasp and more scrabbling and then more blaster fire. Something had happened, something terrible. Someone’s death had triggered it all. Suddenly, there were screams and controlled violent blasters, and you covered your mouth to muffle your sob. The village was dead. Everyone you knew was dead. Lor San Tekka was gone. You felt it like a punch to the chest.

STAR WARS/DREDD

armitage hux x clan techie

🌹 Little Blue

rating: mature, 1.3k, incest, abuse mention, jealousy, crushes

“I see you’ve been slumming it with the radar techs again,” Armie said from his perch on Techie’s bed.

Techie gnawed on his lip, stepping through the doorway of his berth, and let the door slide shut behind him. He knew it would be stupid to deny it. He was wearing the tech jumpsuit after all.

STRANGER THINGS

reader x eddie munson

🌹 Sidetracked

rating: teen, 900, mechanic!eddie, gender-neutral!reader, domestic fluff, slice of life

Maybe something last-minute happened. Like an emergency tow. Or a quick flat-tire fix. Or a gaggle of geese had waddled into one of the bays — again.

🌹 Through A Glass Darkly | playlist on spotify | masterlist

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28

rating: explicit, 163k, canon universe, fem/witchy/goth!reader, magic, slow burn, friends to lovers, series-typical horror, period-typical sexism and homophobia, historical inaccuracies and anachronisms, drug dealing and use, smoking, alcohol use, masturbation, mutual masturbation, fantasizing, one-bed trope, making out, fingering, dirty talk, chasing, oral sex, handjobs, condoms, piv sex, mild spanking, reader’s father is a dirtbag, magical violation, mental torture, body horror, aftercare, nightmares, strict parenting, panic attack, past child abuse and abandonment, semi-public sex, breaking up, angst with happy ending, running away, guns, fighting, everyone survives, suicidal ideation

Eddie would have to wait until his lunch break to see this new, hot, weird chick. He wondered which flavor of weird she was. Art weird? Theater weird? Band weird?

Weird weird?

He shrugged. He liked weird.

In other words, you’re the new girl in town, and Eddie is intrigued.

THIS IS WHERE I LEAVE YOU

reader x phillip altman

🌹 Risking Thorns

rating: explicit, 12k, post-movie, ice skating, nice suburban upbringing, slut shaming, almost enemies-to-lovers, prickly reader, phillip gets a short leash, bastardization of a jewish holiday, fingering, semi-public sex, phone sex, spanking threat

Once she pulled out of the parking lot, you asked, “So, where are we going?”

“Altman’s? I thought you got your skates sharpened there, too?”

Mental alarms went off as you shook your head. You knew the Altmans…

THE WITCHER

yennefer x geralt

🌹 Nailed Into Place

rating: explicit, 14k, modern new orleans au, inspired by s01e03 “betrayer moon”, mishmash of nola folklore, i’ve altered the striga curse (pray i don’t alter it further), references to s01e05 “bottled appetites”, timeline what timeline, alcohol consumption, incest mention, pedophilia mention, injuries, blood, ableist language, a sprinkling of geralt/jaskier

Geralt Rivia is the only witcher in New Orleans. He’s typically hard to find until Jaskier decides to announce on Instagram where he’ll be performing via selfies with Geralt in the background. Baron Ostrit, an associate of mob-connected Foltest Temeria, shows up to hire Geralt to rescue his daughter from slavers. Another princess to save. Geralt finds himself in a tangle lies, from the Marigny to the Garden District—and consulting with a mage he hasn’t seen in years…

MISCELLANEOUS

🌹 Character Soundtrack

Songs and playlists for characters I (and others) associate with them. Feel free to message me with ideas!

🌹 BlacKkKlansman Supercut

Flip Zimmerman scenes only.

🌹 Logan Lucky Supercut

Clyde Logan scenes only.

🌹 Burn This - Audio

Bootleg audio recording of the play.

[mrs-gucci]

❀✿ 1k celebration, Day Three ✿❀

it’s the third and final day of my 1k celebration, and we’re closing things out with Clyde, Sackler and Phillip Q & A’s!! thanks a bunch to everyone who’s participated so far, I really appreciate your enthusiasm and patience. let’s finish the celebration out strong today!

** here are a quick reminder of the rules. please read through before submitting (if you haven’t already)! **

⚙︎ I will only accept requests for the characters on their specified days. no early or late question submissions will be accepted. ⚙︎ please keep your character questions within that day’s specified characters (ie. no questions for previous or future days’ characters). ⚙︎ AU character questions are allowed (ie. firefighter!Flip, Hogwarts Jacques, mob boss!Maurizio, Dr. Charlie, etc), but please make sure to specify the AU somewhere in your ask. I’m not a mindreader! ⚙︎ sfw and nsfw questions are accepted.

the inbox is open now, so come ask the boys some questions ;)

[finn-ray-nal-beads]

BITCH YOU’RE BASICALLY AT 300 FOLLOWERS! SO GIMME PART 2 TO THAT PHILLIP ALTMAN BLURB YOU WROTE FOR ME YOU BEAUTIFUL BITCH!💖💖💖💖💖

A/N: BITCH I AM SO SORRY IT HAS TAKEN ME THIS LONG TO PUT THIS OUT. I HOPE YOUR WHORE ASS LOVES IT @historyandfandoms50

Warnings: obscene amounts of marital bliss and fluff, pussy eating, mentions of a blow job, domestic love, appliance fucking (if that’s even a thing), large amounts of smut, slight degrading language (only once or twice), nipple play, slight pain play

(Present time)

“Holy fuuu-cccc-kkiinggg shittttt, honey!” Crying out on top of the brand new washer and dryer combo you and Phillip just had delivered not even an hour ago. 

“Yeah babe?” he thrust his twitching cock into your squelching pussy, “you like it when I fuck you on our new shit?” 

You let out a sinful moan as the warmth from the heated dry cycle added to your already overstimulated senses, “God yes Phil, honey, I love it when you fuck me on things!” 

(A few hours earlier)

It was a lazy Sunday morning, you both had woken up the average way, Phillip nose deep in your wet pussy, licking kitten stripes to disturb your dreams. It was his favorite meal of the day, as he called it, tasting your wetness built up from the almost eight hours since he’d fucked you the night before. His cock weeping at its head from the no contact for that long as well. He got his fill as you unraveled around him within minutes of his assault on your throbbing hole, looking up at your blissed-out face. His goatee and mustache glazed like a donut, licking your sweet juices from it like a salve. 

After a well-placed blowjob to rid him of his morning wood, you both had fully gotten out of bed and went along with your day. He made a pot of coffee downstairs, while you showered and did your Sunday self-care routine. Slipping on your favorite leggings and t-shirt combo, you gathered all the dirty clothes from the week, placing them in the hamper after they had been sorted. You both were excited to finally have a washer and dryer in your house instead of dragging your clothes to the dry cleaners. The delivery would be here any minute and you wanted your laundry to be ready the second it was hooked up. You made the bed, fluffed the pillows, and headed downstairs with the hampers to drop them off in the mudroom before heading to the kitchen. 

Upon descending the flight, the smell of fresh brewed coffee and omelets filled the air, causing your eyes to roll back into your head. Your husband despite all of the behaviors he exhibited outside your shared home, had the best domestic side to him. He cooked, cleaned, and took care of you every second he could do so. He doted on you every chance he got to, bringing home your favorite flowers, bottles of expensive wines, exquisite lingerie, and sweets when he found your favorite vices. You were spoiled rotten by him, and of course, you treated him the same way. The love you both had for each other exceeded any kind of love you had been familiar with in the past. He was by all accounts the perfect match for you and you, to him, were his whole world and nothing more. Friends and family even saw the affections when you were around him, and they made every single point to be supportive and sometimes jealous at the sappy love you two had shared. 

You and he didn’t want to have it any other way though. He was your best friend by all accounts, and you would be satisfied if he was the only person you interacted with for the rest of your life. 

You walked into the kitchen after dropping loads of laundry off by the space for the new appliances and grabbed a cup out of the cabinet. 

“Hey babe,” he turned around, shirtless and in joggers, sipping some coffee himself, and turning an omelet over in a pan on the cooktop. 

You walked over after filling your cup and ran a hand up his enormous back, caressing the moles and freckles spotted all over the expanse of it, “hi honey,” you sang while lifting yourself on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. He moved his face upon feeling your soft touch and wrapped his arm around to kiss you properly, only breaking when the eggs started to bubble. 

“Breakfast is ready, and I got a text that the truck will be here any second with the set,” he smiled into your puckered lips again, causing you to moan out in excitement. 

“Can’t wait,” you whispered, moving your hands to wrap around his thick middle, gripping the skin a little tighter than previous. 

“Oh babe,” he cooed, “is my little wife still not over what happened this morning?” he teased putting the spatula down and flipping the stovetop off bringing his large hands to grip your ass cheeks. 

“I just love you, so much honey,” you smiled running your hands up to his chest, leaving light nail marks on his tits. 

“I. Love. You. Too. Babe.” he punctuated on every kiss he left around your lips, cupping your heat in his palm. Just as things were about to get steamy, the doorbell chimed. 

(Just before the MAGIC)

“Thanks, guys!” Phillip waved off the installers while you immediately filled your new machine with the dirty darks you’d been saving. 

Flipping the unit on, you watched the majesty of your very own washer working to clean your garments, almost bawling at the thought of never seeing a coin-op machine again. 

“You like it, babe?” Phillip stood in the doorway of the laundry room, leaning to one side of it, admiring your curves as you bent down to grab the other hamper with the whites in it, easing up and setting it on the bench next to the dryer. 

Turning around glassy-eyed, you jumped into your handsome husband’s arms, “h-holy shit, Y/N!” 

“I love them, honey,” you almost sobbed into his naked neck, as he tightened his grip on your waist, causing your legs to choke his middle. 

“I’m so glad babe,” he pet your damp hair, moving it out of the way so he could pepper your perfect neck with kisses. 

His soft lips sent a shiver down your spine, causing a whimper to spill out of your mouth. He took that as a sign and began sucking perfect welts along the length of it, the colors growing darker and darker the more he trailed downward. 

“God I love it when you whine like that,” he growled into your ear, biting the delicate flesh, causing you to look up from your hiding spot. You enveloped his swollen lips in a searing kiss, his hands gripping your ass once again as your arms fell behind his head, tangling your digits in his hair. 

He moved to set you on top of the new dryer, letting go of your cheeks and moving up to your perky tits hidden behind your t-shirt. You had forgone a bra for the day, so the access was simple. He snuck his large hands around each tit, twisting your nipples in his rough fingers, causing you to cry out again. 

“Fuck, Phil,” you gasped as he pinched your hardening buds, “I need you, honey.” 

“Oh ya?” he smirked, kissing your clothed tits, taking in your scent, “you need me to do what baby?” 

He twisted them again, this time with a little more fervor, “O-oh fuck-k!” you wailed out. 

“Use your words honey, or I’ll leave you alone,” he taunted at your pained face pleading for him. 

“I-I need y-you to fuck m-me,” you said with tears streaming down your face. 

He hushed you, rubbing the wetness away, coming in between your legs to rub his hardened cock on your clothed pussy. 

“Take your pants off love, or I’ll rip them off,” as he turned the dial on the dryer, to a cycle. 

You squirmed your leggings off, baring your nude and throbbing cunt to his eager eyes, “so wet for me, baby,” licking his lips as he turned the machine on. 

The vibrations from the dryer sending shockwaves through your aching clit, you set yourself back on your elbows, exposing more of your mound to your husband’s eyes. He pulled his pants down, palming his angry cock and lining it up with your entrance. 

He grabbed both sides of your hips, sinking his dick into your wetness, the both of you collectively moaning in complete pleasure. He held himself still, admiring your writhing around from his dick pulsing inside you and the vibration from the dryer underneath. You looked utterly delicious, and his hunger to make you come spurred him into a frenzied series of animalistic thrusts. 

(Back to present time)

Balls slapping up against your little asshole, your elbows propped burning from the sensation of rubbing against the top of the dryer, you scooted yourself forward removing your top as he adjusted his angle to fit your needs. Your bouncing tits at his eye level, he took one in his mouth sucking as hard as he could. Your hands weaving into his head in a death grip as he mercilessly fucked you for all he had. 

“G-god baby,” he stammered, “I’m s-so f-fucking c-close.” 

“Fuck-k b-babe,” you moaned out over the many noises, “s-so am I.” 

His hand moved from your tit to your aching clit, rubbing his thumb in tight circles over it. Your pussy tightening around his cock as he sent you into a blissful orgasm. 

“Jesus fuckin’ C-Christ honey,” you cried out, milking your sweet nectar on his pulsing cock. He thrust in and out a few more times, the overstimulation from your hole throbbing around his member sending him into his release too. 

“God, babe,” he growled out coating your insides with his seed, “You are so fuckin’... beautiful,” he whined out on the final release of his remaining spend. 

Just then, the dryer alarm rang, signaling the end of the cycle he’d set. You both looked up connected still and looking utterly fucked, and laughed out loud. 

“Well,” you patted his back, “at least now we know how long we have until the dry cycle is over!” 

He chuckled, helping you down from the machine, and handing you your leggings, “indeed we do honey.” 

He swatted your bare ass bent over looping your feet through the legholes, to which you stood at attention and smacked his bare chest. He put his hands in the air if he hadn’t touched you ever, and you rushed into his body in a bear hug, or a ‘baby bear hug’ as he liked to call it. 

“I love you,” you kissed into his little tuft of hair on his sternum. 

“I love you most,” he snaked his arms around you, kissing your head and rubbing your back. You both left the mudroom, changing the laundry as the day went by. 

Now, the new tradition you had both agreed on was every new big thing bought for the house had to be ‘christened’, making buying things a little more fun in the future. 

You fell asleep that night curled up in Phillip’s embrace, stroking his every feature on his sweet face as he was lulled off by your presence. All you could do was smile and think about which shiny new thing you all were desperate for next. You’d ponder it more when you didn’t feel so tired from gazing at your sleeping husband. The last thing you saw was his precious freckles fade into your memories as you drifted off. 

_____________

PHILLIP FUCKING US ON ANYTHING IS HOT AS FUCK LIKE NO CAP. I REALLY HOPE THIS TICKLED YOUR PICKLE BABE. 

🖤,

ray-nal-beads 

[starskylo]

Starry Night

A/N: Thanks to @clydeluckylogan​ I haven’t been able to get this concept out of my head all day. So naturally, instead of working on the three major assignments I have due, I decided to whip up a quick one-shot with Phillip. Procrastination? We don’t know her. Based off of this.

Warnings: Some alcohol consumption, disgusting fluff, that’s it really.

Word count: 1,203

Sometimes the best moments in life were also the simplest. For a long time, Phillip had thought that happiness was racing in his black Porsche, or getting whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted it. Happiness was money, it was proving everyone else wrong, it was the flexibility to get away with anything.

But he was wrong. Happiness was the way she climbed through the window that night, ducking her head and stumbling when her foot caught on the sill. He reached out and grabbed her hand, steadying her as she shuffled down the sloped tiles. Y/N plopped down next to him on the bed of pillows they had prepared for the occasion. She pulled out a bottle of red wine from beneath her jacket, uncorking it as she held it out to Phillip. He took a swig, smacking his lips as he passed it back to her. Glancing at his watch, he looked up at the sky.

“When’s this comet supposed to appear anyway?” He asked. It wasn’t exactly his idea of a fun night, sitting outside in the cold, and looking at the night sky for hours on end. But Y/N had insisted, and he couldn’t refuse her, not when her eyes went all big and round, and she did that cute pouty thing with her lips that she knew he couldn’t refuse.

“Actually, it’s the international space station,” she replied, taking a long pull of wine. Phillip tried not to stare too hard at the way her lips were pursed around the neck of the bottle as she sucked down the red liquid.

“That’s boring,” he grumbled. Y/N only chuckled in reply, offering him the bottle once again. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed her shiver. Still holding the bottle in one hand, he moved closer to her, pressing their bodies together as he lay one of the blankets across their legs. He wrapped another blanket around both their shoulders, keeping one arm around her so that the blanket securely covered her entire body.

“Thanks,” she whispered, leaning her head on his shoulder. He hummed in reply, kissing her forehead as they both turned to look back up at the sky. An hour passed by without any sight of the space station. By that time, the couple had finished the bottle of wine and were drunkenly giggling together.

“It’s humiliating! I don’t need random strangers reading all the gory details of my adolescence!” Phillip shouted. Y/N threw her head back as she snorted.

“I think it’s cute that you still slept with a teddy bear when you were fifteen.”

“It’s not! And it’s even less cute that you know that!”

“Aw, c’mon it’s nothing to be ashamed of. You were redefining the societal norms of masculinity. Who said men can’t sleep with a teddy in their teens?”

“I do!”

“Honestly Phillip, I don’t think what your mother wrote was all that bad,” Y/N said in a serious tone. She upturned the wine bottle, shaking it a little and frowning when nothing came out.

“Boooo,” she slurred, dropping the empty container. The pair watched as it rolled down the roof, falling over the ledge and smashing on the pavement below. There was stunned silence for a second before they both burst into laughter.

“Oh shit,” Phillip chuckled, “I’m gonna have to clean that up later.” Y/N choked out a feeble ‘sorry’ in between giggles as she leaned into him. He playfully shushed her, and the two listened to see if they had woken up anyone else in the house, but no lights came on.

By that time, the night had grown even colder. Stars decorated the night sky, freckles of light against a black canvas. It reminded Y/N of Phillip’s face and his own constellation of beauty marks that decorated his pale skin. She looked up at that beautiful sky, wistful and far away within her own mind. They still hadn’t caught any sight of the space station yet, and as the hours dragged on, Phillip began to wonder if it was even going to appear. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to drag his girl away, not when she looked this content.

She was beginning to shiver again, the artificial warmth initially provided by the wine wearing off. He pulled her into his chest, wrapping the blanket tight around them as he rested his chin on top of her head.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to bed now?” He murmured into her hair. He had noticed the way her eyes had started to drift closed, and the occasional yawn that escaped her lips, no matter how hard she tried to suppress it. He knew her well enough to anticipate her response. She was a stubborn and determined woman, and if she said she was going to do something, she would always see it through. It therefore didn’t surprise him when she shook her head.

“We haven’t seen the space station yet.”

“Darling, I don’t think it’s coming tonight.”

“NASA said it was tonight though.” She looked up at him, doing that thing that she does best; the big eyes and the pouty lips that won him over every time. He sighed.

“Alright then, we’ll wait another hour.”

At that moment, a small circle of light appeared, faint against the dark sky. It slowly moved across the dark canvas. Though it wasn’t as bright or as large as some of the other stars, it was still noticeable as it trekked its way across. Y/N gasped, forgetting her exhaustion as she excitedly sat up. She leaned forward to get a better look at it, prompting Phillip to catch onto her arm so as to prevent her from suffering the same fate as the wine bottle.

“Look, Phil!” She cried, pointing towards the moving object.

“I see it, sweetheart,” he chuckled, pulling her back towards him so that she didn’t fall. After a few minutes, the space station disappeared, and the two lapsed back into a comfortable silence as they continued to watch the night sky. Soon, Phillip realised that Y/N had fallen asleep, her breathing even as she snuggled into his chest.

He lightly shook her shoulder, smiling when she grumbled, her voice thick with sleep as she asked him what was going on.

“C’mon sweetheart, I’m taking you to bed,” he said. She whined in response.

“But I want to keep looking at the pretty stars.”

“Honey, you’re the prettiest star here.” Y/N sat upright then, more awake as she stared at Phillip with a smirk.

“Wow.”

“I know.”

“That was really cheesy.”

“It’s true though.”

“You’ve lost your touch, Altman,” Y/N laughed. Still, she allowed herself to be pulled up by Phillip and led back towards the window. She could no longer deny that she was exhausted, and the warmth inside the house was far too tempting.

Behind her, Phillip collected the blankets and pillows, resolving to clean up the broken glass tomorrow. He watched Y/N as she shuffled through the room, collapsing onto the bed the second she reached it. Smiling to himself, Phillip agreed that this moment was worth more than a thousand Porsches. And if this was happiness, he didn’t want anything else.

[elmidol]

Happy Birthday, Micah

[Phillip Altman x Micah (or Reader, but the name is used)]

Happy birthday, @strongtwiheart

tw: None. Just some fluff and occasional innuendo.

word count: 1.8k

There were some mornings that it struck you just how natural it was to wake up beside him, to join him in the kitchen for breakfast or coffee. It was strange to think that there had been a period wherein he had been absent from your life. Phillip Altman had spent that time continuing to live as a playboy, behavior that had ended after the death of his father and he had had to live with the consequences of his choices. That had helped him to become who he was now, had led him to you. What you thought of life before him was in terms of growth; it was faded, much like your early childhood. Which was funny, in a way, given that such thoughts led you towards the fact that recently Phillip had insisted the two of you purchase a character-themed waffle press. It had been admittedly cheaper than others due to it being on clearance, and seeing him happy always brought a smile to your face.

On this particular morning, you did not wake up next to him, however you could smell the waffles baking and knew he was waiting for you in the kitchen. You stretched your arms above your head, freshened yourself a bit, and then headed out of the bedroom to join him. Along with the waffles, you smelled the coffee. Your favorite brew and in a mug you were rather fond of. Phillip had his back to you. He stood at the ledge on which the waffle press was stationed. Beside it was a measuring bowl filled with batter, on the opposite side a plate with fresh waffles. He had a half eaten one in his hand. Your smile broadened.

“Good morning,” you said while stifling a yawn. Phillip twisted around, returning the greeting as he gestured with his head toward the cup of coffee that was waiting for you. “You’re up early.”

“Did it get cold in there without me?” The way his voice took on a new pitch whenever he teased you made your heart flutter. Warmth spread through your body. You felt so comfortable with it, as though you had been wrapped up in a blanket of affection--because, you knew, you had been. The way he looked at you was obvious. There was attraction, hints of lust, but something else. He valued and respected you. He had told you how his sister, Wendy, had raised him. They were close, and you had bonded with her. It was Wendy who had put into words for you how you felt with Phillip when she had stated how he looked at you from her point of view: he looked at you as though you completed him, because you did.

You lifted up the coffee, the surface not too hot as it warmed your hands, and leaned against the opposite ledge. “Yes.” You did feel complete now that you were again in the same room that he was. “You’re making a lot of waffles.”

“I worked up an appetite,” he replied, giving you a smirk this time. You ran your tongue along your lips, your eyebrows momentarily rising. You had not expected anything less. Phillip pushed aside the container of batter, opened up the press, and withdrew the waffles that had finished cooking. He reached over to unplug the appliance. As he did so, you moved into a chair that was set up at the small table in your kitchen. Phillip picked up two forks from the drawer, grabbed up the plate of waffles, and brought all of this along with his own coffee mug to the table. You marveled at the size of his hands, at how much he could carry in a single trip. Those same hands that delivered you pleasure, that held you, that often enveloped yours.

He slipped into the chair across from yours in unison with setting the plate down in the center of the round table. The forks slipped in a controlled fall from his hand onto the surface beside the dish. You reached forward to grab one of them. Phillip, meanwhile, grunted, set down his cup, and rose long enough to procure any toppings either of you might want for the waffles. Then he was seated on the other side of the table from you again. He was dressed in sweatpants and a comfortable t shirt . Nothing that indicated he had plans to go out, although that did not mean he wouldn’t dress later. His facial hair was well kempt, trimmed to his preferred length. You enjoyed watching him, taking in all these details as Phillip reached for one of the waffles.

Those brown eyes, so deep, gorgeous, warm, lifted to meet yours. “Micah.” You blinked slowly, almost owlishly, at him. Released a soft hmm of acknowledgment. “You awake?”

“Yeah. I’m just watching you.” He snorted, his head bobbing in repeated nods, and he chuckled out a yeah, I caught that. Relaxed, light, nothing judgmental. He was simply making conversation with you.

You let out a startled yelp as your chair shifted towards the right. Phillip chuckled, eyeing the way your hands had gripped the table. Shaking your head, you stood to finish what he had started doing with his feet; you moved the chair closer to his so that you were side by side rather than across from each other. You made the suggestion that the pair of you could head over to the couch, but Phillip only leaned to the side, setting his cheek on top of your head and then straightening up. You withdrew your hands from the coffee mug that you had reached for in favor of grabbing his face and bringing him down for a kiss. His lips were smooth against yours in those three quick pecks.

“Look at us. All cute and domestic.” It was hard to not groan at this joke, what with how his chest puffed up a bit. He was half-serious with what he had said.

“Well,” you began, deciding to join the mirth, “that is one of the reasons I love you.”

Phillip placed a hand on your head, his thumb skimming behind your right ear. “I love everything about you. Your cute scar here.” His thumb stroked it in reverse. The caress coupled with his words made your heart stutter in your chest before it set to racing. “It’s one of the reasons I love you.”

“O-oh?” He had told you this before, however it had been a while. And it caught you by surprise whenever he would bring it up. So specific, so endearing. He was perfect. Phillip pressed his mouth against yours. This kiss was more than a simple peck. He kissed you deeply, your mouths joining together in a familiar dance. His thumb caressed back and forth along the scar. He murmured again how much he adored it. “I love your hands,” you whispered back. “And your eyes.” His lips ghosted over yours. “Your mouth.” Now they kissed you for--you did not know what number you were at. You could kiss him for all eternity and never grow tired of it.

As the kisses slowed, you rested your forehead against his. “Do you love the coffee I made you?” he asked. His sense of humor, his impeccable timing, how he knew just what to say. You loved that.

“Yes, I love the coffee you made for me.” Phillip slipped his arm around your shoulders, rubbing you gently so that he did not jostle you as you grabbed hold of the mug. You sipped the warm liquid, felt its heat as you swallowed. It complemented how he made you feel on an emotional level.

Neither of you picked up the forks that were beside the plate of waffles. Phillip appeared to have temporarily lost interest in the food in favor of focusing on you and the coffees that you were each drinking. It was perfect for the weather outside. It was chilly. The thermostat indoors would read at a higher temperature, the heater audibly thrumming as it kept away the cold. The coffee worked to ward away any lingering chill that might have existed. You cuddled more tightly against Phillip. You looked at the waffles merely to consider the faces of the characters that were visible from where you seated.

The characters were another example of why it was difficult to remember a time before Phillip. Both of you could recall watching the show. Your conversations would have fooled third parties into thinking you had been together while watching the episodes. The memories blended together well enough that sometimes the two of you forgot that you hadn’t been with each other. Such occurrences would result in laughter when realization struck. You both shared favorite and least favorite characters for the show as well. Phillip liked to eat the least favorite character first. That way if there were leftovers then it wasn’t them taking up space in the fridge or freezer. That was a quirk of his that you found endearing.

“Hmm.”

“What?” he asked before sipping on his coffee a bit noisily. You nudged him so that he quieted. “What?”

You pointed with your chin at the pile of waffles. Your hands were on the warm mug and you did not want to remove them just then. “I was thinking that we could always use the other three slots and not the fourth. Then we won’t have to worry about there being any left.” Here you looked over at the ledge. “Especially with how much batter you made.”

“That’s another thing I love about you. So smart. Big brained.” You scrunched up your nose at his words, albeit not in disagreement. Phillip placed his cup on the table and you set yours down beside his. Wrapping your arms around him--or as much as you could given his size and your angle--you closed your eyes and inhaled his scent. “Stealing my shirts.”

“They’re comfortable,” you countered. They fit just right. This loose t shirt was the same style as the one he wore, however it was a different color. “You love that I wear them.”

“I do,” he conceded. “I like taking them off of you too.” Despite his words, he did not make a move to do so. You appreciated what he was implying and that he did not bare you to the cold. “What are your plans for the day?”

“Well, first, I’m going to help you finish making the waffles,” you said. A pause then you corrected yourself. “First, I’m going to drink my coffee. Making more waffles is somewhere down the line.” He offered to put a lid on the batter so that the two of you could instead go over to the couch and cuddle after eating. You were plenty willing to go along with that plan. All that mattered was that the two of you were together. So long as there was that, it would be a perfect day. “Now you’re the one who’s big brained.” His laugh was deep, rich, and everything you wanted in that moment.

[ducktapewriting]

Single Mama Meets Phillip Altman

here’s some fluffy fluffy lil bit of angst (not my strong suit) single mom/phillip altman fluff for y’all on this fine friday :) 

hope you guys enjoy!! :)

I knew it was wrong, but I just couldn't help myself. I had been going to Altman's Sporting Store once a week for the past two months, specifically to see the tall, handsome floor manager that they had wandering around. Sure, it helped that my twin boys were constantly breaking hockey sticks or ripping basketball nets.

It was about 3 weeks after my separation from my husband that I wandered into Altman's for the first time. Tommy had put another hole in his baseball mit, and so, on my lunch break, I headed into the store.

That was when I met Phillip. He was new to the store, and he had introduced himself to me as Paul's youngest brother. Paul, who I come to learn was the primary owner/manager of the store. And where Paul was sweet and helpful, he was nowhere as attractive as Phillip.

Since that day, I'd found different reasons to place myself in the store, smiling happily and flirty with Phillip when he was there, and in quick and easy when he wasn't. But today, that would end. I would finally tell Phillip the secrets behind my shopping excursions, and hope for the best. The twins' sixth birthday was coming up, and I decided to buy them new hockey equipment.

I left work early, my boss knowing the kids were with me for their birthday weekend, and immediately made my way to the store. I knew he'd be there, since he usually worked Fridays during the day hours. I was browsing the puck section when I heard loud footsteps coming towards me. I raised my eyes and was met with the beautiful, brown globes I'd been searching for.

"Hey there." Phillip said, smiling widely down at me. "What'cha huntin'?"

"Boys' birthdays are tomorrow." I told him.

"6?" He questioned, and I smiled at his memory.

"Yeah." I nodded. "Their party is at the rink, so I thought as their gifts I'd hook 'em up with some new hockey equipment."

"Good idea. I've seen Tyler bust his hockey stick in more games than one."

Phillip has been at some of the boys' games, being that his sister, Wendy's, son played on their team.

I laughed, and asked if he had any recommendations. We browsed through the aisles together, and he helped me stick random things into my cart.

"Come on, over here." He said, pulling my cart once I'd gotten everything I needed. "I'll check ya out over here."

"Such good customer service." I giggled as he logged into the computer behind the belt. I started placing the boys' gifts on the belt and he rang them out.

Alright, girl. Now or never.

"Phillip..." I gulped deeply, nervous for the words about to come out of my mouth.

"Hm?" He asked, without looking up at me.

I didn't say anything at first, waiting for his eyes to meet mine. Finally, he did and I sighed loudly.

"Maybe you could, um, come to the boys' party?" I wondered. "They'd love for you to be there and Wendy's coming with the kids I think."

"Yeah? That would be okay?" "Yeah, of course." I nodded, trying not to sound too eager. "Ya know, if you're not busy or anything."

He pretended to look at the calendar on the wall next to him and laughed. "Looks like I'm free." He said, smiling widely at me. "Cool. 1:00." I replied.

He nodded, and we finished checking out the equipment. I ended up spending a little over $100, which was a lot less than I was expecting. I gave Phillip my credit card and he finished ringing me out.

"Alright, thank you so much for all your help." I grinned, taking my reciept from his hand.

"No problem." He smiled back. "I'll see you tomorrow, 1:00."

"It's a date."

The phrase slipped out quicker than I could even stop it, and my eyes immediately widened. Phillip's however, lit up happily, and he nodded his head and winked. I quickly waved and pushed my cart out to my car.

=========================================================

The boys were so excited when we'd gotten to the rink. I had told them that I would take them to the rink for their birthdays, but they had no idea that all of their friends and teammates, along with family and coaches would be there too.

My ex-husband and I were cordial enough with each other, so of course he was there too. Which, made the boys really happy, since they didn't see him quite as much as they would like, since he traveled often for work. It was almost 1:30 and I kept looking at the door. Wendy hadn't shown up, and neither had Phillip.

Maybe inviting him was pushing the envelope? I mean, Wendy was one thing because of the kids, but Phillip was a completely different story. I kicked myself for even opening that door, but it was the boys' birthdays so I pushed the thoughts to the back of my mind, and started skating with the boys and my sisters.

I was holding hands with Tyler, making our way along the floor when he got a huge smile on his face.

"Mom, mom!" He exclaimed. "Look!"

I looked up at the door, and saw Phillip walking through the door with Wendy's son, Henry.

"I'm gonna go say hi, honey, okay?" I asked, then asked if he wanted to join me. He said he'd see Henry later, and kept on skating.

I made my way over to where they were sitting, Phillip putting Henry's skates on.

"Hey, Altman." I said, leaning over the edge of the rink. "Hi, Henry." "Hi, Miss (Y/N)." Henry smiled, waving up at me. "Are Tyler and Tommy out on the rink?"

"Sure are." I nodded. "Go ahead and go get them, they're so happy you're here."

Without giving Phillip a second look, Henry was gone in a flash and on the rink with the boys.

"Sorry we were so late, the baby got sick this morning and then Wendy wasn't gonna bring him so I..." He shook his head, rambling.

"No worries." I cut him off. "I'm glad you guys could make it."

"Me too." He smiled. "Where can I...?"

He looked around, holding two gifts in his arms.

"Over here." I told him, making him follow me towards the table.

"You look good on skates." Phillip said, once we got to the table. I blushed and glanced up at him.

"Good like, you know how to skate. Not like "good" good." He said and I cocked my head.

"Not that you don't look "good" good either, of course you do." He kept going. "I didn't... I just meant..."

"I know what you meant." I laughed.

I stayed with Phillip for a while and we chatted, and I introduced him to some of the other parents he'd not met before. I was having a great time with him, watching the boys, and I just couldn't help thinking how easy life could be like this.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sight of my ex-husband waving me over to where the food was. I told Phillip I'd be right back and made my way over to him. We decided it was time to have pizza and sing "Happy Birthday" to the boys.

While I got everything set up, I sent him to round up the kids. It took a little bit of effort, but we eventually got them all sitting at the tables and sang and started eating. Once all the kids were eating, I looked around and didn't see Phillip.

"I'll be back." I told my ex, deciding to start searching for him. When I finally found him in a back hallway, pacing back and forth.

"Phillip, you okay?" I asked, making my way towards him.

"No, I'm not." He shook his head. "I'm fine, though. Just go, please." I burrowed my eyebrows and turned my head to the side.

"Please talk to me, did I..."

"You didn't do anything. I should've known better than to come here." He groaned. "Phillip..."

"No, it's my fault." He cut me off yet again. "I come here because I want to see you, and I want to bring the boys exactly the things I know they love and I think I'll be able to just sit here and watch you with him, and I can't."

"Who are you talking about?" I questioned.

"The boys' dad! I thought for some reason you invited me because you feel the same way I do, but I'm just stupid. You guys are great together, and I just had to walk away because I can't watch that."

I sighed deeply and closed in on him, grabbing his forearms. "Phillip Altman." I said, staring into his eyes. "I do feel that way about you. I wanted you here so I could see if I felt like this out of the store. See how good you are with the kids, with my family."

"What are you talking about? You're married!" He exclaimed.

"I'm separated in the process of getting divorced, you ass." I giggled, his expression softening. "Of course their dad and I get along, we met when we were kids. It just turned out that marriage and romance wasn't what it was supposed to be for us."

"Oh..." He whispered. "You're the one I want, Altman." I smiled up at him. "Haven't you been able to figure that out with my stalking you at the store?"

"I just thought..." He shrugged. "I don't know what I thought. I'm sorry for yelling and acting like an ass."

"Don't apologize." I laughed. "Just, please finally kiss me, and let's go finish this thing, huh?"

"Yeah, good idea." He grinned his big toothy smile.

Phillip leaned down and pressed his lips to mine quickly. The kiss wasn't anything crazy, it was deep and sweet, but quick. I pulled away and smiled up at him.

"Come on." He grabbed my hand, and pulled me back to the party, where we skated and partied and ate with all the kids, and it was the beginning to something very, very beautiful.

[candycanes19]

New chapter/part of "Not the Plan"

[nurseofren]

📂

I asked for HCs and they all went flying out of my brain two seconds later. But one that’s stuck out for a few months is thinking of Phillip on the one year anniversary of his dad’s death.

CW: alcohol, drunkenness, fire, hurt/comfort.

You’d started dating him a few months ago, dating being a relative term. Mostly friends with benefits. Mostly just the benefits.

One night you decided to surprise him after a few days of him not responding to texts or calls, so you lace yourself up with the set of lingerie he would’ve seen earlier in the week had he picked up. You put the sundress he loves so much over top of it and head over to his place.

His car is there, which aggravates you for a moment, but then you think it’s better than if it weren’t.

There’s no lights shining through the window, and you don’t hear anything — or anyone — on the other side of the door.

When you knock, no one answers. There’s no shuffle towards the door, no signs of life whatsoever.

The knob turns when you try it. Unlocked. It worries you for a short second, but you remember how Phillip is. More so what he is: irresponsible.

So you let yourself in, twiddling with the high hem of your sundress and pressing your back to the door as it clicks shut.

You call his name, half expecting him to jump out and surprise you. Maybe this is one of his games he likes so much.

With this in mind, you quiet down and take in your surroundings more alertedly.

And then you notice how heavy the air is, and how it burns your nose with the thick, unmistakable scent of liquor. And... cigarettes?

Phillip doesn’t smoke? At least, he’s never smoked while you were with him. And he never smelled of it. His place sure never carried the somewhat comforting, somewhat sickening smell.

Maybe someone is staying here. A friend, or maybe he has benefits with someone else. You two aren’t exclusive, and the possibility doesn’t bother you. A lot, anyway.

Dipping your head into the kitchen, your heart picks up at the sight of strewn-about beer cans. Cheap stuff, nothing he usually went for, but the amount of empty cans made you think he wasn’t drinking for the flavor.

Again, though, maybe he had a friend over.

“Philly?” you try again, sure now that he wasn’t playing a game.

Beer cans seem to form a trail, and there is a mess of the liquid dripping from a few of the discarded ones settled on the floor.

When there is no response, you follow the heavy scent, going toward where it is most offensive.

It leads you to find Phillip Altman on his bathroom floor, emptied liquor bottles lying around him, and a lit cigarette hanging loosely from his lax fingers. His back is against the tile of his shower, and his head falls toward his shoulder. He’s knocked out. Drunk. Unconscious.

A rush of worry flees your lips, but you barely hear it as you crouch over him, placing a hand on his cheek.

You shake his head, and when he doesn’t respond, your fingers prod his carotid for a pulse.

Out of the corner of your eye you catch sight of an old photo caught between his thumb and forefinger, and when you feel his pulse against your fingers, you let out a whine of relief.

But in the next second, the cigarette slips from his opposite hand and into a puddle that’s fled from a tipped over bottle of vodka.

Flames ignite and for a second you just stare, shocked, but then it clicks that there is a fire and there’s alcohol everywhere, and there’s a blacked out Goliath of a man right next to those flames.

So you frantically search for the shower dials and paw at them mindlessly until a stream of icy water floods the stall.

Phillip’s head rolls on his shoulders and you rip your fingers into the collar of his shirt, urging him to get up and away from the danger he’s put himself in.

The water doesn’t even slow the languid spread of the flames rushing toward his now-sopping wet boxers, inching ever closer to his bare legs.

A string of expletives floods your mouth and Phillip rolls off some garbled, half-conscious nonsense while you try again to drag him from the stall.

“What the hell, Philly?” you cry, catching sight of a washcloth and punching it into the ground, not thinking of burning yourself, just desperate to put out the flame that now kisses his outer knee.

The fire dies out, steam pouring through the soaking rag, and a long drag of frustrated breath leaves you.

You nudge the steaming cloth away and straddle Phillip’s knees, taking his head in both your hands and glaring at him with fear and anger and concern.

“Phillip, what happened?” you grate out, wondering if the streams falling down your cheeks are from the shower or if they’re new tears. “What happened? I haven’t heard from you in days. How long have you been like this?”

The notch in his throat works hard, and his eyes are empty for a moment, barely meeting your own. But then he looks to his side, and you see him lift the photograph you noted earlier.

“He’s gone,” Phillip murmurs.

With a crinkled brow, you reach for his hand and turn it so you see the picture. It’s a boy standing next to an older guy. Upon closer examination, the kid is Phillip, and the other is...

“My dad. He died last year. It’s been one year. Today it’s been one year.” Phillip looks back to you, and although you know he’s so far away right now, there is so much pain in his eyes.

Your anger for him leaves, and you crumple on top of him and pull his head into your chest, your fingers comforting the wet curl at the nape of his neck.

For a moment he just breathes heavily against you, and then you feel his hands around your waist.

He takes a deep inhale, and then chuckles lightly against your skin, his nose nuzzling into the soft flesh of your breasts spilling from your sundress.

“Philly,” you chide, knowing his intentions.

“Yes?” he purrs, his hands skating your back and finding the thin straps of your dress. “You know this is my favorite, don’t you?”

“Hm, yes I do.” You lean into his ear and whisper, “you know what else I know?”

“Mm?” He slides the straps from your shoulders, and when he teethes at the skin there, you smell the alcohol waft from his mouth.

You push his shoulders back to the tile, and his eyes flare. “You’re drunk off your ass right now, you just almost set yourself on fire, and I just saved your life.” You give him a light slap across the face. “Now help me get you cleaned up and in bed—,”

“Bed, hmmm?” He tries to lean forward, but you flick his nose.

“Alright, you can think with your dick once your sobered and over the raging hangover you’ll no doubt have.”

He protests, but eventually you get him up and help him sway toward his bed. You slip off his shirt and boxers. He’s naked, and he smirks at you. It makes you giggle, but you just lay him back and put a blanket over him after toweling him off.

When you go to get him a glass of water, he snags your wrist and halts you.

“Phillip,” you sigh.

His thumb caresses your wrist, and he watches the patterns he traces as he murmurs, “Thank you.” He closes his eyes. “I didn’t pick up because I was...”

“I know. I’m... sorry about... your dad.”

He swallows and then grimaces, opening his eyes and finding yours again. “Don’t... will you stay with me? Just... just don’t leave right now.” He sighs. “Please.”

And with the look he gives you, you know that no matter what you were — friends with benefits or just benefits and nothing else — you won’t leave him until he physically removes you from his side.

“Yeah,” you give him a small, sad smile, “I’ll stay.”

[jynzandtonic]

For TT, from most to least who’s the cuddliest between Sackler, Matt, Philip, Flip, Clyde, and Ronnie?!

Okay, so I want it to be known that ALL of these boys are cuddly—even fuckin’ Matt—so this is really, like, a ranking of the World’s Cuddliest Cuddlers. Please accept these snaccs.

Ronnie: Stupidly cuddly. Cannot scrape him off of you. No preference between being little or big spoon.

Clyde: JUST LOOK AT HIM OKAY?

Sackler: Will scream like a fucking harpy if you don’t snuggle him. It’s blog canon.

Flip: You fall asleep and wake up with his arms wrapped around you like a weighted blanket. Always draping an arm around you in public.

Phillip: Nuzzles into you like a little shetland pony.

Matt: He’s cuddly when he’s not fucking the living dogshit out of you.

[finn-ray-nal-beads]

Phillip Oneshots

A/N: Here’s the links to all the goblin king thots! Enjoy Babes!🖤

Canon Oneshot Requests:

The Laundry Room

The Awkward Dinner

[maybe-your-left]

Along the Highway

okay so set the scene... Clyde has a garage where he’s a mechanic.... and he bends ya over to see what’s under the hood n’ gives a the good ol’ southern oil change a yer life darlin’... 😉 you’re welcome for this... saddle up!

Thank you for the request @finn-ray-nal-beads​... I truly hope I delivered. but I don’t think you’ll be disappointed darlin’ 

-----

“Mother fucker,” you cried out when your car stalled on the highway. You were halfway towards your destination. Stuck in an old hick town in Boone County. You had no service and the closest gas station according to the signs was 10 miles down. You pulled off to the shoulder, letting the nonexistent traffic ‘whiz’ past you. 

You climbed out with your purse and phone clutched in your hand, slamming the door shut. “What am I gonna do now?” you whispered. No one had passed you for miles, you weren’t even sure that you could use your emergency AAA button in the car since there was no service. 

Sighing you stared at the highway… there was nothing to do but move forward. You made sure your car was in the park and all your valuables were stowed away in your purse or your trunk and you began your trek. Maybe when you made it to the town there would be cell service and someone could point you in the direction of a mechanic. 

After about 30 minutes you were exhausted, the West Virginia heat beating down on your back. Surely you were getting baked alive, since you decided to wear a summer sundress and sandals. Not prime walking outfit choices… thank god you remembered to pack your water bottle or else you would’ve passed out. 

In the distance, you saw a Chevron, along with a tiny strip mall. There was even a little hair salon, maybe if the mechanic was working on the car you could swing in for a trim? It couldn’t hurt to kill some time. You burst inside the station, sweaty and breathing heavily. Approaching the counter you attempted to catch your breath, “Is-is-there a mechanic nearby?” you wheezed out. 

The attendant was a young man, maybe 18 barely, looking at you like you were a wild animal. He gulped and handed you a water bottle, “Uh, yes ma’am… just down the road. Logan Family Auto… are you alright?” 

He looked at you with big eyes, watching you chug the ice-cold water, “Yes, sorry. My car broke down on the highway…” 

“Ahh,” he exhaled, “Lemme call them and the owner will pick you up and the car.” 

“Thank you,” you made your way outside, taking a seat on the bench. You flicked off one of your shoes and began rubbing the sole. You were already unbelievably sore, probably wouldn’t hurt to get a foot rub when you made it to Virginia. The entrance door dinged, “Ma’am, Mr. Logan is on his way to pick you up.” 

“Thank you so much,” you sighed. 

A few minutes later a tow truck pulled into the gas station, parking in front of the doorway. Someone climbed out of the driver’s seat and walked around the front. You weren’t paying attention, instead trying to work the knots out of your foot.

In front of you two black boots came into view, followed by a clearing of the throat, “Are y’ needin’ a lift?” 

You looked up and instantly your throat went dry… the man in front of you wasn’t a man. Better qualified as a bear, he was huge. Had long black hair tucked under a green John Deer hat, navy coveralls and he had his arms to his side, almost afraid to approach you. His face was pale, but had a few spots of grease on his cheeks, leading into his scruffy facial hair. 

“Yes,” you moaned out.

“Okay, where to?” 

In your fantasy he would’ve asked you to climb him like a tree but instead he was staring at you with pleading eyes. 

You shook your head, “Sorry, uh-yeah my car broke down on the highway… had to walk all the way here.” 

“Mmm,” he nodded. Turning around he opened the passenger door, “Come on in, I’ve got AC. We’ll get ya cooled off.” 

Standing up you stretched out, desperate to cool off inside the truck. You also could use a massage, your feet and legs were aching from the overuse. Sliding in, tucking your purse at your feet. You smoothed down your dress and waited for him to climb in. 

The mechanic hopped in, and started blasting the AC. instantly cooling your skin, you sighed, “That feels so much better.” 

“M sure it does,” he laughed, “My name's Clyde by the way.” 

“Nice to meet you Clyde, I’m (Y/N).” 

Clyde gave you a small smile, “That’s a very pretty name.” 

You blushed, looking away so he wouldn’t see how flustered you were. 

The drive was long, you could barely believe that you walked this. Just imagining it again was making you sweat. You leaned onto the dashboard, desperate for some relief. Deciding to angle the vents towards your legs, you didn’t even notice the Marylin Monroe moment you were having until Clyde cleared his throat. 

“Y’ doin’ okay over there?” 

“What,” you opened your eyes and looked at him. Mistakenly shifting to wear your dress was blown up over your hips. Fully showcasing your bare thighs and sheer panties. “Shit I’m sorry!” 

You rushed to cover yourself, embarrassed of the exposure. “It’s s’okay darlin’ I’m sure you want to relax after the day y’ve had.” 

Glancing back over you noticed Clyde's eyes dart back to the road… no way, you had caught him staring at your legs. He probably got an eyeful earlier, and now he was blushing bright red. Hands gripping the steering wheel tight. You scooted over towards him, deciding to shoot your shot. Grabbing the hem of your dress you slid it back up, revealing yourself again. “Do you want to help me relax Clyde?” 

He looked over at you, eyes practically bulging out of his head. Clearing his throat he placed a hand on your bare knee, “I thought you’d never ask.” 

Tightening his grip on your knee he yanked you over the seat. Pinning your left leg up towards your chest, showcasing the wet spot in your panties. Clyde's eyes darted from your center to the road, trying to not send you both off the highway. 

Bringing his hand to your core, he lightly rubbed his knuckles on the fabric. Groaning as he felt your slick through it, how it was coating your lips. You closed your eyes and let out a sigh, “Please Clyde,” 

“Y’ sure?” 

“Please or I’ll have to do it myself,” you smirked at him. 

Clyde laughs again, pulling your panties to the side and plunging two fingers in. “Fuck,” you squealed. You weren’t ready for two fingers, and they were already fucking you in and out. Dragging against your walls, soaking up in your wetness. His fingers were so long, and fat, better than any cock you had before. Giving you a few more pumps, Clyde moved his hand out, positioning his palm face up. 

“Darlin’ y’ve soaked through these,” he mumbled, eyes darting back and forth from the road and his fingers. Bringing them back to your weeping hole he shoved them in, squelching out more slick onto the seats. His fingers were curling up against your front wall, quick ‘come hither’ motions on your g-spot. 

“Clyde,” you moaned, “That feels so good… can I rub my clit? Please!” 

“Rub it baby, cum all over my fingers.” 

Your hand darted out, furiously rubbing your swollen nub. Clenching around Clyde's fingers as they continued to assault your cunt. You squeezed your eyes shut, succumbing to the blissful fullness his fingers gave you. 

You came with a shout, begging him to keep going. Gushing down his wrist while he slowly pulled off the road. Your chest was heaving, trying to center yourself, overstimulation creeping in from Clydes fingers still stuffed in your cunt. 

“Better?” Clyde asked, pulling his fingers out slowly, “Look at the mess y’ made.” Holding up his slickened hand, admiring the shine coating his middle and ring finger. You laughed as you caught your breath, watching as he brought his fingers up to his mouth. Slipping them inside, his eyes closed as he moaned at your taste coating his tongue. 

“Get outta the truck,” he commanded. Putting it into park, and yanking the keys out. Clyde slammed the door, you just sat there dumbfounded, you were not at your car yet? Why is he pulling over… 

Suddenly your door swung open behind you and Clyde yanked you out, pulling you to the front of the truck. “I thought I asked y’ to get out?” You gave him a devilish smile, leaning against the hood, pressing your tits up to the sky. “I don't know what you’re talking about…” 

Clyde swooped in, pinning you down, lips crashing into yours. Moaning into each other’s mouths, your hands went up to his neck, sliding into his luscious hair. Clyde began to grind against you, pushing your dress back up your hips. He was already so hot and bothered from fingering your, all you wanted was for him to bury his cock inside you. 

Breaking away you looked at him, silently telling him with your begging eyes what you wanted. “Are y’ gonna listen to me now or are you gonna be a troublemaker?” 

You grinned, leaning in and placing a kiss on his Adam's apple, “whatever you want Daddy.” 

He growled and flipped you around, pressing your chest onto the warm hood. His left forearm across your back to keep you from squirming around, and his right pulling up your skirt. “Gotta check an see if every thin’s all good and ready for me.” 

Pressing your ass into his jeans, desperate to feel how wet you were. He thrust forward, repinning your hips. His fingers gripped into your panties and yanked them down. “Please Clyde,” you moaned. The delicious friction making you keen for him even more. 

Clyde quickly disrobed enough to fish his cock out, rubbing it up and down your eager slit. The tip

of him catching just enough to give you a small

stretch, “Y’ think you can take me?” 

“Anything,” you bucked back, “Just fuck me.” 

He shoved inside, completely splitting you on his hard cock. Bottoming out and knocking the wind from your lungs. Both of you cried out at the tension inside you, your walls already clenching from the intrusion. Clyde pulled back, taking himself out and rubbing again before plunging back in. 

“Fuck, y’er choking my cock darlin’,” He moaned, beginning to thrust in and out at a rapid pace, “M not gonna last with y’ doin’ that.” 

You clenched around him again, his words egging you closer towards your release, “Daddy, I wanna cum on you again, please can I?” 

“Yeah baby,” he grunted, “Cum with me.” 

You both cried out, Clyde’s cock knocking into your cervix over and over. Each time shooting a mix of pain and pleasure to your walls, you were clenching all around his length. Desperate to milk all the cum he could give you. 

A few more thrusts and he stilled, forehead coming to rest on your shoulder and his ick twitched inside you. Spitting out rope after rope of his hot sticky cum into your tired pussy. Clyde pulled out, allowing you to sit up again as he steadied himself on the side of the road. You collapsed into him, your legs threatening to give out at any moment. His cum already leaking down your legs to pool inside your pulled down panties. Laughing you hoisted them up, to try and collect the rest of his spend inside you. 

Beside you Clyde was panting, the heat and the power of his thrusting had completely wiped him out. He looked over and you and grinned, “That was,” he leaned against you, “That was great darlin’.” 

You laughed again, “It sure was. Thanks, it really helped me relax.” 

He smiled back at you, “No problem… I guess we better go get yer car now.” 

[spellbound-banshee]

Adam Driver as Phillip Altman  This is Where I Leave You (2014)

(all gifs are mine <3)

[benwaitingforsolo]

phillip altman x reader - “darling, please, i need you to eat.”

request from : @loverforren​ “can I request some Philip Altman with 11 from the fluff prompt list? Thanks !”

this fits perfectly with my unofficial series of x readers with AD characters and food. 🤔😏 did you plan that? thank you! hope you enjoy!

warnings: none (maybe a slight food complex?) - ooh dang i think this is a gender neutral reader fic

Being the baby of the family, Phillip learned very quickly that if he didn’t eat at dinner, he wouldn’t eat at all. This trait stuck with him, even when he was nowhere near his siblings.

Phillip flopped down into his seat at the kitchen island and you slid a plate of pasta over to him. Excited like the child he was, he immediately dug in and twirled his fork around the noodles and took a big bite. Meanwhile, you sat across from him, taking occasional sips for your glass of wine.

Phillip was finishing up the last bite on his plate when he asked, “are you gonna eat?”

You refilled your wine glass from the decanter that was between you and him. “Phillip, you know I’m not hungry after I cook.” You said, now taking a large swig. “I’ll be hungry in like, ten minutes.”

Like a pavlovian response to Phillip finishing his plate, you took it and gave him a second serving. “Babe, in ten minutes I’ll probably finish all the pasta.”

“I’ll be fine!” You said. “Want a piece of bread to go with your pasta?”

With a mouthful of food, Phillip responded, “You know I do.” He took chug of his wine to wash his food down. “I’m going to feel bad if I eat all of the food and if you don’t get any.”

Before handing him the slice of french bread, you took a bite of the side. “Happy?”

Phillip sighed and shrugged his shoulders. “Darling, please, I need you to eat.”

You gave into his plea, only because he said please, and called you ‘darling.’ So, you leaned forward and opened your mouth wide.

He furrowed his brows and looked at you, confused.

“If you want me to eat, then you’ll have to feed me.” You said suggestively.

Phillip laughed that naughty chuckle that makes your heart skip a beat. And he gathered a heaping bunch of pasta on his fork. “Thank you.” He said, feeding you the food.

He looked satisfied after you agreed to take a bite, and quickly, he finished his second serving.

“Do you want more?” You asked, still chewing the bite he fed you.

He nodded, sliding the plate to you one more time.

You, too, were satisfied seeing Phillip enjoy the food you made for him.

“Where does all of that food go?!” You chuffed, poking his toned stomach.

“Fast metabolism.” He responded, but a grin grew on his face. “And I can work all the calories off with you after dessert.”

-

thank you for reading! if you have any requests or suggestions or feedback, i’d love to hear it! ❤️

[candycanes19]

This is my answer from an ask that @morby send me a while back. Sorry for errors, I did it on my phone.

"Pampered Princess"

You were working at the spa your aunt owned called, 'Pampered Princess'. You laughed at the name and the snobby clientele that came in to the spa. But you kept that under wraps because you loved your aunt and job. Your aunt's spa sold these really cool blue crystals that supposedly helped for relaxation. She had given you a few crystals as presents and you kept them at your condo.

Your fiancee, Phillip Altman, made fun of what that the crystals helped with calming you. He attributed you being relaxed with how he loved on you in the bedroom. And he was talented for sure.

One day you came home and Phillip was sitting on the sofa listening to 'The Distance' by Cake while enjoying a beer.

"Hey sexy, how was your day?" He asked beckoning you over to him. You dropped your stuff and wandered over to him and plopped down next to him.

"Crazy day but hopefully my blue crystals can relax me."

"Really, sweetheart?" Phillip rolled his eyes.

"Yes, some people handle stress with yoga, mediation and long walks. I handle it with sarcasm, beer and telling people to fuck off!"

Phillip looked at you and you grabbed his beer and took a nice long drink. He smirked, "Are you better now or do I need to fuck it out of you now?"

"Kiss my ass Altman!" You joked setting the beer down on the table.

The next thing you know, Phillip picked you up and threw you over his shoulder.

"Phillip, I need my blue crystals."

"No you don't" he laughed as he headed towards the bedroom.

He plopped you onto the bed and crawled above you.

You pulled his face down for a mind blowing and relaxing kiss.

[clydeluckylogan]

I am kindly demanding soft Clyde Logan and or Phillip Altman content in my inbox now.