#Hamilton fic

[astralaffairs]

hi!! before i go i jus wanna say, I love your work 🙏🏽 and I finally watch hamilton last night so I might write for it as well 😋😋 but i have a drabble idea.

anyways— thomas having a dance/ball for a campaign during the election and he meets aaron’s little sister, mc, who snuck in. and he can’t help but take interests in her.

“Now, what’s a lady like you doin’ getting a drink just for yourself? Nobody’s offered to do that for you yet?”

Y/N froze as her fingers met the stem of the champagne flute. She had promised herself she would stay to the outskirts of the ball, and her only goal for the night had been to avoid courting attention. However, the packed room was warm, and it was only more so at its perimeter under the lights, and the crisp bubbly had looked oh-so-inviting.

She turned with a polite smile as she picked up the glass, but her eyes widened when she saw the man behind her with his gleaming smile and his velvet suit. She recognized him instantly; after all, she’d seen him before, and he’d even been in her home, but they’d never formally met. He raised an eyebrow when her smile faltered. “I’ve only just arrived. I haven’t had a chance to speak to much of anyone just yet.”

“Then I’m gonna have to count myself lucky to have found you when I did. Thomas Jefferson.” He offered her a hand as he introduced himself, and when she took it, he dipped down to press a soft kiss to her knuckles. Her eyes went even wider.

She cleared her throat as he drew himself back up to his full height, still holding her by the fingertips, and it took a moment for it to occur to her to withdraw her hand. “You’re the host of this ball, then, if I’m not mistaken. Thank you for opening your home to us like this.”

“Believe me, sugar, the pleasure’s all mine,” he said. “Who’re you here with? Feel like I’ve seen you around, but I can’t put my finger on it.”

“Oh, um, my family’s here somewhere. I came on my own, though, and I was planning to meet them here.”

“Your family?” He pursed his lips. “You’re not a Schuyler, are you?”

“No, no, certainly not,” she replied before hastily adding, “although the Schuylers are lovely people, of course. To be a part of their family would make one lucky.”

“So you know the Schuylers, then?” he mused, and she nodded. His growing smile was making her mouth go dry. “I know where I recognize you from; you’re a Burr, aren’t you? Aaron’s sister?”

“I am, yes.” Her smile was tense, laced with unease. His grin was bright as he plucked a drink for himself off of the table behind them.

“So why haven’t I seen you at one of these before? Your family trying to keep you locked away from all the politics?” he asked, and as her eyebrows fell, he could see the look in her eyes sour.

“They’ve decided I can’t be trusted at this kind of event,” she said bitterly, and he quirked a brow. “Aaron claims he’s afraid I’ll say the wrong thing and jeopardize his career, but really, I think he just can’t deal with the idea of splitting people’s attention between us.”

“But you finally proved yourself trustworthy?” he asked mildly, taking a sip of his drink, and she shrugged uncomfortably.

“I suppose so.”

“Then where’s your dear brother now, hm? Why aren’t you here with the rest of your family?” He watched her expectantly, and when she didn’t answer right away, his grin broadened. “They don’t even know you’re here, do they?”

“No, and you’re not going to be the one to tell them,” she said sharply, pointing her champagne flute at him. He raised his eyebrows, amused by the fervor in her tone. “I had to walk miles alone in the dark to get here; I am not being thrown out as soon as I arrive.”

“Well, sweetheart, if you’re not with them, then really, I should be sendin’ you on your way.” Despite the threat, his voice was breezy, and she frowned.

“And what do you have to gain from kicking me out?”

“The respect and appreciation of your family,” he suggested blithely. “The knowledge that I’m not leavin’ a young lady to walk home alone ‘n vulnerable at the end of the night. ‘S just the right thing to do, really.”

She eyed his small smile for a moment before slowly asking, “But despite that, you’d rather I stay, wouldn’t you?” He shrugged unabashedly. “You’re quite shameless, aren’t you, Mr. Jefferson?”

“Only on a good day.” He winked as he took a sip of his drink. “After all, you went through all that effort to get here. There’s gotta be a good reason for it, huh?”

“Of course. I’m here to expand my mind just like everyone else," she said, and he raised an eyebrow.

“And not for the charming future president we’ve got roaming the ball?”

“Oh, I wasn’t aware there was one. Let me know if you see him?”

His full laugh proved him undeterred, and Y/N’s self-satisfied smile was reluctant. "'M glad to see you inherited more of the family wit than your brother seemed to."

"Please, don't tell him that. A lady needs to keep some things a secret."

"It'll stay between us, then," Thomas said, "but I don't think I ever got your name."

"Why, so you know whose presence to report to my brother?"

"So I know who to ask after the next time I see him." His response was quick, and it had Y/N on her heels. Her eyes were wide, eyebrows raised, but when she opened her mouth to answer—

"Y/N." Both she and Thomas turned on their heels at the loud voice to find her brother striding across the room toward them, and her groan was unchecked. The fury in Aaron's voice was barely contained. "What in the world do you think you're possibly doing here, sneaking out after dark? How did you even get here?"

"I brought myself, since nobody else was willing to take me," she bit back, and Thomas raised his eyebrows as he took a sip of his drink.

"That wasn't your decision to make," Aaron snapped. "We are a family, and you have to respect that—"

"Respect what? That you have total control over my life in the name of family values? Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?" she asked. "I respect that you have a career and a reputation to maintain, but I am a person, and—"

"And nothing, Y/N. Put the drink down, and leave Mr. Jefferson at peace," he demanded, and Y/N narrowed her eyes, her jaw set. Aaron turned to Thomas, and much of the fire in his voice had subsided when he said, "I'm sorry for her intrusion, Thomas. We didn't know she had followed us here, and we'll send her home at once."

"Now, Aaron, what makes you think she's uninvited company?" Thomas asked, and both Y/N's and Aaron's brows were raised. "Y/N's my guest here this evening; 's the opposite of an intrusion."

He frowned, glancing between Thomas and Y/N. "You mean you're responsible for her presence here tonight?"

"Well, I invited her, so I suppose you could say that," he said casually, and if he winked when he caught Y/N's eye, Aaron didn't think anything of it. Aaron's lips were pursed and his shoulders tense as he glanced between them.

"Why didn't you tell me Thomas had invited you?" he asked Y/N, and she shrugged.

"I didn't think you'd want to hear it, and I didn't want you trying to prevent me from coming."

"If I'd known he asked you to come—"

"So, what, my personhood is dependent on his permission now?"

"Your presence here is, at least."

"As a Burr, I would've been welcome either way."

"Not unattended, however."

"I can attend to myself just fine."

"You know that isn't what I mean when—"

"Aaron, was there somethin' else you needed?" Thomas cut him off, and Aaron's gaze was affronted when it snapped to him. However, he held his tongue. "I was just about to ask Y/N to dance, assuming that's her decision to make 'n all."

Y/N had to bite back her smile at his words, and although Aaron seemed to recognize the challenge in them as his jaw ticked, he said, "Of course. I'm sorry to have interrupted."

"Don't sweat it. Your concern for your sister is awful sweet, even if it isn't needed here," Thomas responded, his smile warm.

"'Concern' isn't how I'd describe it," Y/N muttered bitterly, and Thomas nudged her with his elbow. She frowned.

"Carry on 'n enjoy the rest of the ball, though, and please send my best to your wife," he said. Aaron could only offer a tense smile in response.

“You as well. I suppose I should go find Theodosia.” He looked down skeptically at Y/N. “How are you planning to get home?”

Y/N’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, I…” She hadn’t thought that far, so her gaze was hopeful when it snapped to Thomas, who held her with a hand at the small of her back.

“I’ll arrange for a carriage to take her home,” he promised. “Don’t you worry, Burr. She’s in safe hands.”

“Right,” he said hesitantly, looking Thomas over. “I’ll leave you to it. Don’t do anything stupid, Jefferson.”

“‘S like you don’t even know who you’re talkin’ to,” Thomas said incredulously, and Aaron scoffed.

“I’m sure.” He barely spared them both another glance before departing unceremoniously, shaking his head all the while, and Thomas chuckled. Y/N turned back toward him.

“You’re a regular local hero,” she said sardonically, but the smile in her eyes betrayed her bored tone. Thomas grinned.

“I do try, sweetheart,” he said lightly, “maybe even in a way that deserves a ‘thank you’?”

“Thank you.” Her voice was sincere. “Really. I owe you.”

“Well, if you mean that,” he said, and his eyes were shining as he looked down at her, “I wouldn’t mind making good on that dance I mentioned. Unless you’re in a real rush to get back to your dear old brother.”

He offered her his arm with an eyebrow raised, and she left her empty glass on the table behind them when she took it, drawing a wide grin from him. “How could I say no to our charming host?"

[dorkszn]

modern!john laurens definitely yells “GYATT” whenever he sees you

[formula-hamilton]

Little White Lie | Lewis Hamilton x reader

Summary: On your first date with Lewis you told him a small lie that you soon came to regret. Word count: 1.7k Warnings: None I think? Just an excessive amount of sport + fluff. A/n: Just a small one shot based on an idea I had after watching Lewis’ latest running story on instagram.

--

It started as an innocent lie. Just a small fabrication to make yourself appear more appealing. In hindsight, it was completely unnecessary, but you wanted to impress him. Find common ground and then he’d hopefully find you worthy of his time. Sadly, you didn’t realize just how unnecessary the lie was until it all became too much.

It was on your first date. Lewis had picked you up at your flat and taken you to a small Indian restaurant in London. A very intimate place, quite fitting for a romantic dinner for two people getting to know each other. As the waiter showed you your table, Lewis held his hand on the bottom of your back, gently following you. And as the true gentleman you had expected him to be, he pulled your chair out before sitting across from you. The conversation was a little careful in the beginning, both being nervous and a tad shy. You couldn’t help feeling a bit intimidated by him, afraid of saying the wrong thing. But as you shared a bottle of wine, your nervous demeanor slowly slipped away as the conversations got deeper and you both felt a connection growing. You remember thinking it at least felt like a third date.

Of course you touched the subject of his job and his journey in the sport. This lead to talk of his love of racing and sports in general and of course you discovered just how much he loved being active. It shouldn’t have surprised you, him being a professional athlete and everything, but still it blew your mind just how much he loved doing sports and running. That’s how you found yourself a little overwhelmed and frankly quite unable to relate. But you were scared. You were so infatuated by him that you felt scared he would find you less interesting or less compatible, and that’s when the words slipped out of your mouth before you had a chance to think them through.

“I love doing sports as well!” You found yourself gushing and before you could stop yourself you talked him through just how much of an active person you were. Truthfully you hadn’t done any serious sports since your time at university, but that didn’t sound quite as good.

--

This lie of course led to Lewis suggesting more active activates for your future dates. And unfortunately it wasn’t the sexy kind. On your fourth date he invited you to play tennis with his friend and his girlfriend. You went shopping and bought the nicest tennis fit you could find, hoping it would keep him distracted and unaware of your lack of fitness. Luckily for you, Lewis was such a good player that he didn’t notice how much you lacked in the skills department. Your team easily won and that was definitely no thanks to you. After the game Lewis slept over at your place for the first time and you could finally be physical in a way that left you way more satisfied than any sport could ever do.

Clearly Lewis found the tennis game so successful that he for the next date invited you golfing. This time you were honest with him and told him you hadn’t tried golf before. You simply couldn’t see how you could fake it as well as the tennis match. Fortunately for you, Lewis took it upon himself to teach you and you really didn’t mind him wrapping his arms around you when you had to swing.

Two hours of playing in the scorching sun and you were completely exhausted. You were sweating like crazy and your body ached in ways it had never done before. You had no idea just how physical draining golf would be and you honestly wanted to call the quits on your whole untruthfulness. As you were standing there, being a little dramatic, thinking you were possible having the worst time of your life, you complemented just how you would confess. Before you got a chance to put your thoughts into action, Lewis put his arm around you, grinning.

“I’m so happy that we can do things like these together. I think it’s such a great way to get to know each other. Much more interesting than dinner and a movie,” he said with the sweetest smile on his lips, eyes meeting yours. That’s when you saw just how much he appreciated these dates and you found yourself melting. How could you ever let him down? How could you ever tell him that dinner and a movie was your idea of a perfect date?

Therefore you went on with the golfing and hid just how difficult you found the whole situation. Naturally, you loved the time spend with Lewis. Just as you had known since the first date, you definitely had a deeper connection with him and there was no doubt in your mind that you could see this go somewhere. And even though you were really pushed out of your comfort zone, the time spend with him was much cherished.

For your next date you were quick to beat Lewis to it. This time you invited him to an art exhibition hosted by one of your old friends. It wouldn’t require quite as much energy and you really felt a need for something that wasn’t as physically draining.

The art exhibition was followed with numerous dinners, but just as many tennis matches, golf dates, cycling and your least favorite of them all: running. At least you could carry a conversation with the other sports, but that was simply impossible with running. It was always 45 minutes of pure hell each time. It got a little better with time, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to enjoy it. But you must take the bitter with the sweet and boy was everything else with Lewis sweet.

--

As the months had passed, your feelings for each other only grew. He was everything you were looking for in a man so when he asked you to be his girlfriend there was only one answer on your mind. You knew you were being silly, but as the months passed, you also grew scared of what Lewis’ reaction would be if he found out just how much you dreaded your active dates. First of all you knew it was wrong to have lied in the first place, and even more wrong to have kept it going for as long as you had. Secondly, such a big part of the time you spent together involved doing sports and quite frankly you were scared he would lose interest in you if you lost this common interest.

Once again Lewis and you found yourself on one of your runs. This time in Monaco where he had invited you for a weekend trip. Today you were struggling more than usual, the warm weather was making the whole experience very difficult for you. Your lungs were burning like never before and you felt absolutely disgusting being drenched in sweat. It was only 9 am and you would give anything to just be able to sleep in with Lewis for once instead of being out and about on your small holiday.

Just as you were trying to keep up with Lewis’ pace, you found yourself cursing your past self for even coming up with such a stupid lie just to impress someone. Even if it was Lewis Hamilton. Being completely caught up in your own thoughts, you didn’t watch your step and suddenly you felt yourself tripping on rock on the side of the trail. Your arms saved you from landing face down on the ground, but your ankle wasn’t as lucky. It hurt like hell and there was no doubt in your mind that it was strained. You knew the pain from when you strained it playing football when you were 14 years old.

“Shit, are you okay love?” Lewis rushed over and bend down to put his arm around you, worry filling his eyes.

“No!” You felt tears rushing to your eyes. Both from the pain and all the pent up frustrations. “Do I look alright? I almost fell face down on the ground and I’m pretty sure my ankle is sprained. And it’s all just because of a man! I can’t do this anymore Lewis.”

Lewis stared at you with wide eyes, looking taken aback by your words. As you uttered your last words his face dropped and sadness filled his eyes. “Do what? What do you mean? Do us?” he frantically asked you.

“No, god no, not us!” You rushed out, feeling the first tears escaping your eyes. The dam had broken and the words would not stop leaving your mouth. “I can’t do all of this running anymore. Or tennis or golf or cycling or god knows what sport. I simply can’t do it. I’m not that type of person, I would much rather just stay in and relax with you baby. Or go for dinner or the museum or a nice walk.”

“I thought you loved doing these things?” Lewis frowned at you, small pout on his lips as he looked confused by your words.

“I don’t. I’m so sorry Lewis, I lied. I wanted you to like me and I wanted to find something we had in common so you would want to keep seeing me. And then it just kept going and I didn’t know how to tell you. You were so happy that we did these things together and I didn’t want to disappoint you,” you told him with tears streaming down your face. “I understand if this means you can’t trust me. I really am so sorry I took it so far.” As you finished talking you buried you head in your hands, ashamed to look at him.  

“Baby. Baby, listen to me. I don’t care what we do. I don’t care if we lay in bed all day or if we run a marathon or if we go shopping or whatever. I just wanna spend time with you,” Lewis told you while brushing your hair with his fingers.

“Please don’t let me run a marathon,” you whispered, finally meeting his eyes. Lewis giggled and held both his hands to your face, wiping your tears away.

“I promise I won’t,” he smiled at you, giving you a small kiss on your forehead before moving to your lips. “Come on darling, let’s get you home and cleaned up. Then we’ll just watch movies all day and I’ll cook for you.”

[poppitron360]

In preparation for me going to see Hamilton in 4hrs and 4mins (I booked it a year ago), I just reread my old lams fanfiction from a couple of years ago.

I don’t feel cringe easily, but man…

What the fuck was I writing??? And I’m pretty sure I stole that line from Buffy the Vampire Slayer??!?! And I forgot that that was the ending!!!?!

Ohhh god…

Anyway, if this gets over 30 notes, I’ll post it. Lmk if you wanna be tagged in it.

[the-hamilton-files-author]

Chapter 32 has been posted ❤️ please pardon my rustiness, and be gentle! I really appreciate it :)

[ofmonticello]

Hamilton Headcanons Pt.2!

here we have some hcs about the schuyler sisters!

again, some of these are specific to my au!

angelica:

- never tells anyone about her crushes or dates unless she thinks it'll go somewhere

- most of the students at her school love her, except for the ones that always end up in her office

- she hates flip flops and most sandals

- originally wanted to live on her own but is glad she lives with her sisters for now

- didn't plan on being a principal, but also doesn't know what she'd be otherwise

eliza:

- people tend to speak down to her because she's quiet and polite, so it seems easy to walk all over her

- is secretly methodical and subtle when it comes to dealing with disrespect

- watches disney movies so she knows what her students are talking about

- in charge of decorating the house, but during the holidays her sisters help

- doesn't like to watch shows/movies if they don't have a happy ending

peggy:

- she likes to play video games, and is proud to finally be player 1

- genuinely wishes she could breathe underwater

- has supplies for several hobbies that each lasted about a month

- always knows random gossip because her clients tell her everything

- tries to be bubbly and fun to hopefully make others have a good time too

[stardustsings]

getting into my Hamilton phase so late y’all why is it just hitting now

i wanna write fanfic of Lams and also something silly for Laf and Alex’s friendship. asks are open for requests!

[c0nsumemy5oul]

Special Someone on the Side

"You're very kind but I'm afraid it's unlawful, sir." "What do you mean?" "She's married." "I see." "She's married to a British officer." "Oh shit."

No one asked for it, but here are my thoughts on this interaction:

There are things between the lines!

and I wrote them.

Enjoy :)

Hamburr friendship :3 (mentioned hamiliza and lams) 629 words.

It was a pleasant night after Hamilton’s wedding. Eliza was bidding her family goodbye while he was supposed to do the same with his friends, but here they were, getting even more drunk. 

Burr showed up, seemingly failing to have talked to Alexander during the event and was trying his best to ignore the boys and their teasing. 

He was almost done congratulating Hamilton on his marriage and his position as aide-de-camp to Washington, when Laurens deemed the subject too boring and changed it. 

“Well, well, I heard,” He got uncomfortably close to Burr. “You got a special someone on the side, Burr.” He shot Alexander a sneaky glance.

“Is that so?” Hamilton laughed at his boyfriend's antics.

“What’re you tryna hide, Burr?” Laurens slurred in Burr’s ear who’d reached his limit. 

“I should go.” 

Hamilton instantly disagreed. “No, these guys should go.” 

“What?” Laurens turned to Hamilton in thinly veiled betrayal. “No!” 

“Leave us alone.” Hamilton gave him a pointed look. I’m getting us the gossip. 

“Man!” Laurens rolled his eyes fondly, grabbing Lafayette and Mulligan as they stalked away, resigned. 

Being with Hamilton alone seemed to make Burr slightly nervous. 

“It’s alright, Burr.” Alexander smiled a little. “I wish you’d brought this girl with you tonight.” Hamilton couldn’t help seeing that Burr was lacking a plus one at the wedding. 

“You’re very kind,” Burr looked down, fidgeting with the handkerchief in his hand. Hamilton spotted the initials T.B.P. Now who could that belong to? The special someone on the side, perhaps? “But I’m afraid it’s unlawful, sir.” 

Oh? 

Is it? 

In what way? 

Hamilton found himself thinking of his nights with Laurens, in their tent, under the cover of night. 

Had Burr also found a lad during their battles? 

“What do you mean?” Hamilton asked, a light tone and a smirk emerging with the words. If Burr was going to confess something, he wanted him to know he’d be accepted. 

“She’s married.” 

Oh. Hamilton deflated. “I see.”

No matter, they might still be able to work around this. Burr could be with his beau regardless. With a simple divorce, or even a duel for the lady’s honor, it could be manageable. As long as she isn’t— 

“She’s married to a British officer.” 

“Oh shit.” 

Hamilton hadn’t realized he’d said it outloud until he heard Burr chuckle self-deprecatingly. 

“Congrats again, Alexander.” Burr turned to go but Hamilton’s mind was still reeling. 

There must still be a way for his friend and the one he loves to be together. 

“Smile more.” Burr was walking away. 

They could be happy and in love and together without a random British officer in their way. 

“I’ll see you on the other side of the war.” Wait, what? He’ll simply give up like that? 

“I will never understand you.” Hamilton found himself saying. 

Burr turned around, confused. They were alone on the terrace, the quiet lull of people leaving the building could be heard distantly. 

“If you love this woman, go get her!” Yes, he might lose his head in the process, but for love! Isn’t he willing to risk everything to get what he wants? “What are you waiting for?” 

Burr eyed Alexander carefully, trying to discern something before he sighed. “I’ll see you on the other side of the war.” 

He’s beyond saving. Hamilton sighed back, resigned. “I’ll see you on the other side of the war.” 

When Washington had finally given him a command, Hamilton made sure to wound and kill every single British officer he came into contact with. 

To this day, he’s not sure if he did kill Theodosia’s late-husband personally, but she’s living happily with Burr in married bliss and having Hamilton and his wife over for tea and biscuits weekly. 

So Burr won anyway.

[mreynolds-ask-blog]

Ooc: So… I made a fic about Alex and John, but it’s only semi-historical. John, Alex, and some of the events are historical, but other events are completely fictional. Also, it’s a bit rushed, which is probably my biggest flaw when writing, so I’m sorry about that. It starts at 1778 in 1st person (John’s) perspective. It’ll end in 1782.

[kittykatkatelol]

its out

cough cough- AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH /pos

i hope you enjoy :3

[astralaffairs]

put a ring on it 06

title: put a ring on it 06 pairing: philip hamilton x reader words: 15k warnings: gratuitous smut, daddy kink a/n: this is the last part! excepting maybe an epilogue. we'll see on that one. i hope you enjoy it, and it feels very strange for me to be finally finishing this after 6 years. desc: You’ve never liked Philip Hamilton, and you've always assumed the feeling has been mutual. But when you’re roped into pretending to be his girlfriend for a family reunion, you feel all your truths beginning to melt away and find them instead taking form in his smile. tags: @beepbeepstop @stargazelaurens @ivory-haired-queens @exoticxchicken8 @assbuttstyles777 @superbarriobrothers @tf2germanvillain @ela-ena @abundant-stars @heytheredee-lilah @katierpblogg @thisshitfucks @celyndavies @quixoticallydelusional @sothisishappiness @ems-alexandra @yxseminx @sadhwstudent @aiifandomsunite @loonaynay @valleryhyde @lxncelot @checkurwindow @katierpblogg @alievans007@nyxie75 @ii-moonlight-ii @sothisishappiness @ems-alexandra @elegantbutedgy @maxi-ride @moose-on-the-l00se @itshaileyn @someinsanefangirl @theirishhufflepuff @golddiggs-x @drreamhugs @sillyteecup @notebookgirl30 @marvelouslyemily @checkurwindow @kmsmedine 

“What do you mean, you kissed him?”

“I know.” You were in Philip’s room then, calling Patsy for the second time that afternoon. You cringed, pinching the bridge of your nose. As far as you were concerned, the world had been turned entirely on its head since you last spoke with her. “It just… I don’t know; it all happened so fast. I have so much to tell you.”

You recounted your conversation with Peggy, the debacle with your “engagement,” Philip’s reaction to it, and finally, when you found yourself alone with him up in his bedroom, holding him tightly, kissing him softly. It had been five hours since you last called her.

————

EARLIER

At first, he didn’t kiss you back.

When your lips met his, he froze — his embrace was tense, his body rigid against yours as he processed what you’d done, but it was within a moment that he was responding to your touch. He pulled you closer with the hand at the small of your back, and he held you gently, savoring the feeling of your body. That was when you realized what you’d done.

You pulled back abruptly when his tongue brushed against your lower lip, and your eyes were wide. Your words were caught in your throat; you were struggling to keep from choking on them as you pushed yourself off of him, scrambled off of his lap, and his hand was still hovering where your head had been, grasping at the cold air where your warm skin retreated from. His brow was furrowed as he watched you.

“I…” You trailed off, your attempts to speak coming out as stuttered, breathy syllables. “Fuck. I… I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have… fuck.”

“Wait, Y/N, don’t—” But you were already standing, fixing your dress where it’d bunched up around your waist and making your way to the door. “Y/N.”

“I’m sorry, Philip, but I can’t…” You trailed off, trying to find the words, but you let out a frustrated huff, shaking your head as you left.

“Hey, c’mon, wait.” You were still scolding yourself as he went after you, followed you down the staircase. When you neared the bottom of the stairs, his family was hovering — not waiting for you, but within earshot. Philip grabbed you by the arm. “Let’s talk about this.”

“There’s nothing to talk about." His hold on your bicep was gentle, and you didn't struggle to pull away from his grip. You scoffed, cursing yourself inaudibly as you continued down.

“Y/N.” He had paused behind you, but when you didn’t stop, he sighed heavily, and his footsteps were hardly audible over the noise from his family as he hurried after you. He didn't take long to catch up to you, and your teeth clenched when he reached you, walking alongside you with a hand at the small of your back. "What the hell just happened?" he asked urgently.

"A mistake," you insisted, turning your head hardly enough so that he could hear you.

"Then why did you do it?"

You ignored him entirely as one of his relatives caught you by the arm, congratulating you in passing on your engagement, and you offered her a smile in return, squeezed her forearm affectionately. Philip was still staring down at you, visibly annoyed.

"Y'know, if we're gonna pull off this whole 'engaged' thing, you've gotta start acting more like my fiancé." You glanced back with an eyebrow raised.

He huffed. "Sorry if there's something else on my mind right now."

"Just don't let your family see," you told him in a sing-song voice as you caught sight of Georges approaching the pair of you.

“Hey, now there’s the happy couple.” His grin was broad as he approached the pair of you, and Philip forced a smile when Georges nudged his arm. “See, Will didn’t mess things up too bad for you. Everyone’s elated.”

You laughed, and you could only hope that he couldn’t tell that it was strained. “Thanks, Georges. Now we just have to worry about everyone nagging us to set a wedding date.”

“Oh, don’t sweat it. They’re just excited.” He raised an eyebrow, though, fixing his attention on Philip. “But I’m not gonna pretend not to be a little offended that someone hasn’t asked me to be his best man.”

“I’ll get around to it.” Despite his smile, the tension in Philip’s voice was obvious. Georges furrowed his brow.

“Is it really bothering you that much that William spilled?” he asked. “Listen, it was an accident, and—”

“I’m not mad at Will,” he cut Georges off abruptly, and you sighed. “But thanks for your concern.”

Georges pursed his lips, glancing between the two of you — apparently the pair of you weren’t playing off the events of the past few minutes as well as you would’ve hoped. After a moment of silence, Georges said, “Right. Anyway, uh, congrats, you two. I'm gonna go join Emilie outside; I guess I'll see you in a bit?"

"I, actually, am gonna go grab a jacket from my bag. It's gotten cooler out as it's gotten later." You were quick to respond, and Philip raised an eyebrow when you rested a hand on his arm, glanced to him with a strained smile. "But please, go ahead without me. I'll join you in a few."

"No, that's okay. I'll come back up with you." Philip's tone was firm, and you pressed your lips together. You were certain your discomfort was obvious, but you still had to keep up appearances.

"Really, I insist. I'll meet you back down here." Your bright smile didn't meet your eyes as you stared back up at Philip, daring him to turn this into a fight in front of Georges. He just watched you for a moment, eyeing the tension in your stare and the strain in your shoulders. Even your hand on his arm was shaky. He glanced back at Georges. He looked down at you.

"You sure that's what you want?"

"Just give me a minute. I'll be back."

He did not watch you as though he believed you'd be back in a minute. "Fine."

"Alright." Georges broke the standoff between you as he clapped a hand on Philip's shoulder, and the tension between you shattered at once as his focus was shifted. "Wanna grab some drinks? Cooler's on the porch."

Philip nodded before glancing back at you. “We’ll see you soon.”

————

That was the last thing he’d said to you before you shut yourself away in his room once more. You gave Patsy the play-by-play, and there was no doubt that you’d been gone more than just a minute.

"Holy Hell, Y/N. That… that's insane," she said, and you sighed. "Where are you now? Is everyone still around, or has most of his family gone home by now?"

"I'm in his room. A lot of them are still downstairs. I don’t have much time before someone comes looking for me, either — I told them all I was just up here getting a sweater."

"Why the hell are you in his room? Are you waiting for him?" she asked. "If you're calling me, are you sure you're ready to talk to him?"

"No, I know I'm not," you groaned. "But I don't have anywhere else to go. This is where I'm sleeping this weekend, so I don’t have any space to myself."

“Then you’d better figure something out fast.”

“I know, I know.” You sat down on the end of his bed with a huff. “But… I still don’t know how I feel about all this. Or how I feel about him. I don't know what I want."

“I think it's time to figure it out,” she said dryly. You didn’t respond, and after a moment, she asked, “Do you… regret kissing him?”

“I don’t know that, either,” you answered hesitantly.

“D’you regret running off after you kissed him?”

“God, no. I needed to — still need to — sort out how I was feeling.” You flopped onto your back on the bed as you spoke, holding your forehead. “I feel guilty about it, though. Philip obviously wanted to talk through what happened earlier, but I couldn't do it when my head was so scrambled."

"Y/N, for what it's worth, keep in mind that you called me earlier today in a panic because you thought you were crushing on him," she reminded you, "and now you kissed him. And he wants to talk to you about whatever’s going on between you. Do you really still not know what you want?"

"I…" Your voice faltered as you tried to reply. “I know what I’m feeling, but I don’t know what I want. I’m scared, Patsy. He was just trying to comfort me earlier; what if kissing him was totally out of line?”

“Did he kiss you back?”

You pursed your lips. “Yeah.”

“So then who broke it off?”

“...Me.”

“Are you fucking serious right now, Y/N?” You winced at the annoyance in Patsy’s tone. “It’s been, what, five hours since we talked? Earlier, you were telling me that you thought you were only there to make his ex jealous. Now you’re telling me that even after kissing him, having him kiss you back, and you having had to have been the one who broke it off, you still don’t think he wants you? You still don’t think that’s the entire reason you’re there this weekend?”

“I…” You swallowed. “I guess so.”

“That’s fucking stupid,” she snapped. “I told you earlier that you needed to talk to him about how you were feeling, and I’m gonna say the same thing now. Don’t call me back until you’ve communicated.”

“What? Patsy, I don’t—” Your jaw went slack when the dial tone sounded, signifying that the line had dropped. She’d really had the nerve to hang up on you. And after all you’d been through.

You threw your phone onto your bed with an angry huff, and you dropped your hands onto the mattress beside you, groaning loudly.

“So that’s the whole story.” A soft voice at the door to Philip’s bedroom interrupted your pouting, however — immediately, you were shooting back up to where you sat, propped on your hands with your eyes wide. It was his sister Angelica who stood in the doorway, watching you with her arms folded. “I should’ve known you were too good to be true.”

“Angelica,” you said breathlessly. You were frozen to the spot in which you sat. She sighed, walking into his room to join you on the end of his bed. “How much of that did you hear?”

“All of it,” she admitted. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but when you started talking about how, as you put it, ‘all of this was a sham,’ I kind of couldn’t help myself.”

“Yeah,” you said softly. “I can’t blame you.”

“Can I join you?”

“Sure.” You shifted over, and Angelica took a seat beside you. “I’m guessing you want an explanation.”

“I wouldn’t mind one,” she replied quietly. You nodded.

You gave her the abbreviated version, the gentle one; it felt merciful to omit the parts about your long-standing feud with Philip.

“I’m just here doing him a favor,” you concluded weakly, and she pursed her lips.

“Still?”

You frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I did hear that entire call,” she reminded you. Of course. “You kissed him, apparently."

"I…" You couldn't deny it. "Yeah, but… I don't know. It's complicated."

"It sounds complicated," she granted, "but I don't think you're just here doing him a favor anymore."

Your sigh was shaky. ��I don’t know what you want me to say," you admitted.

"Do you care about Philip?"

"Of course." The question had you taken aback; your answer was a reflex.

"Then you should be downstairs talking to him instead of hiding up here making phone calls," she said bluntly, and your stare was bewildered. "The least you could do is have an adult conversation about what happened. Philip cares about you, y'know."

"What makes you say that?" The look Angelica gave you was disbelieving, but you didn’t think the question was out of left field. By then, it'd been reinforced by so many of his family members that you knew this was a common understanding, but you couldn't fathom why.

"We've been hearing about you in this house since you showed up as Philip's new coworker. At first it was just in passing as an update about what was going on in the office, that somebody new had joined his department, but you became a recurring character pretty quickly.” The day you’d started that job felt like a lifetime ago, both a different reality and a different version of you who’d walked into that office: recently widowed and sleepwalking through your daily life. Of course, at the time, Philip had known none of that. “I don’t know where this lie started, but Philip’s fond of you. He lights up when he’s talking about you.”

“I think he just finds me entertaining to torment,” you corrected her, but she shook her head.

“It’s always been more than that.” Her insistence was as though it were obvious, immediately apparent to everyone in his life other than you. “If you care about him at all, I think you owe him a conversation about all this.”

All you could do was nod. You wished she’d spare you the lecture, but she was right, even if you didn’t want to accept what that meant for you.

“You’re a good sister, y’know,” you said after a moment, and she smiled.

“Actually, I just like being privy to drama.”

————

You went down with her after that to find Philip — you didn’t yet know what you had to say to him, but you could at least afford him the reassurance that you weren’t avoiding him. After all, he’d done nothing wrong (if you could look past the years he’d spent spinning a lie about your workplace romance).

You found him settled in with Georges and Emilie in the midst of a heated debate over whether sushi is seafood, and he and Georges appeared to be getting worked up to a point where you couldn’t decipher which side either of them was on.

“Y/N, thank God, maybe you can settle this.” Georges was the first to notice your arrival, and your eyebrows shot up. Philip turned quickly upon hearing Georges address you.

“Hey, you came back.” Philip’s voice was soft, and you smiled as you met his eyes.

“Yeah, what did I miss?”

“Is sushi seafood?” Georges' loud voice broke any interaction you were having with Philip, and you raised your eyebrows as you looked over at him, pulling up a chair beside Philip.

“I mean, like, it doesn’t have to have fish in it. Can it be seafood if it's made without food from the sea?” you said.

“That’s what I’m saying,” an exasperated Philip piped up, and Georges groaned.

“Y’know, I hate that there’s someone here to take his side now,” he said seriously, shooting you an exhausted look. “You’re gonna be more trouble to my relationship with him than you’re worth.”

“I’m sure you must be devastated,” you replied dryly, but Emilie smiled.

“I’ve been needing someone to help me keep these two in check, so believe me when I say that I’m thrilled, at least,” she interjected. You still weren’t sure how to respond to people talking to you as if you were a new member of the family.

“Anyway, Philip, can we see your engagement ring now that the secret’s out? I just know it’s gonna be flashy,” Georges said, and Philip offered a weak smile.

“Nah, not right now.” He spared you a hesitant glance. “I don’t have it on me.”

“Where is it? You shouldn’t be leaving your engagement ring just anywhere; it’s too valuable for that.” There was concern in Emilie’s voice.

“It’s safe; don’t worry. We just packed the rings away before coming here,” he said. “I’ll show you both some other time.”

“C’mon, we wanna see it now,” Emilie said. “Can’t you just go get it? Is it upstairs with your bags?”

Philip sighed. “Emilie—”

"We'll go find it later tonight and bring it around tomorrow, alright?" you cut in, and Philip's eyebrows jumped.

"We will?"

You shrugged. "We may as well, if people are curious to see it. I think it's somewhere in one of my bags upstairs; it shouldn't take long to find."

"If you're sure," he acquiesced. You did have a ring for him, if nothing else; you just weren’t sure it would fit him.

By then, the sun was beginning to set, and you were glad that you grabbed yourself a sweater after all on your previous trip upstairs. As Philip and his friends sat and talked, you were content to mostly just listen — you didn’t have any input to offer on the stories from college you were sure they were lamenting for the thousandth time. Angelica joined you all not long after, bringing you a beer you didn’t ask for but, according to her, “you looked like you might need.” Georges and Emilie took the comment in jest, picking on Philip as your grateful gaze wandered back to Angelica. She winked.

Somewhere in the yard, one of Philip’s relatives had lit a bonfire, and after more of the family came outside, you found yourself migrating toward it with Philip in tow. He’d suggested the relocation, noticing your shivering. You’d acquiesced easily. That was how you found yourself beside him on a picnic blanket, melting into yourself where you sat with your knees folded up to your chest as fatigue ebbed at your body. Philip’s younger cousins were roasting marshmallows, and frankly, you would’ve been joining them if you had the energy. However, you were confident that you’d had a longer — and almost certainly more taxing — day than anyone around you, save for Philip. You glanced over at him.

He was watching Eliza Jr. with an amused grin as she tried to fit her small mouth around a s’more, covering the bottom half of her face in chocolate and marshmallow fluff in the process. More graham cracker was going to the grass below her than was staying in her hands, but she looked rather pleased with herself as she shuffled over toward you.

“D’you wanna come roast a marshmallow?” she asked, and it wasn’t until Philip turned to you with an eyebrow raised that you realized she was talking to you. It startled you when his eyes met yours, as though you thought he wouldn’t be able to see you watching him, and it seemed to surprise him nearly as much to see that you had been. Your face was hot when you turned to Eliza.

“I, um… I don’t think so. I’m getting tired, and you’re doing such a good job of it that I wouldn’t wanna take away from your fun.”

She frowned. Apparently your excuse wasn’t good enough for her, but she turned to Philip. “Do you wanna come roast a marshmallow?”

“Not this time, kiddo.” There was a trace of a laugh in his voice as he reached out to wipe a smear of melted chocolate from Eliza’s nose. “Be careful around that fire.”

“Can I roast you a marshmallow?” she asked, and you couldn’t help but smile. She was nothing if not persistent. Philip’s expression mirrored yours.

“I dunno; I think it would be wasted on me. I might head up to bed soon,” he said, and Eliza huffed. He glanced over at you. “You want one, though, princess?”

Eliza’s eyes were wide and hopeful as she looked at you, and you shrugged, your smile endeared. “Yeah, sure, I’ll take one. Thanks, Eliza.”

“You’re welcome. I’m gonna roast you the perfect marshmallow.” She started tottering off back toward the bag of marshmallows before she even finished her declaration, and it made you grin.

“Thanks for being a good sport.” Philip’s voice was soft, and it wasn’t until he spoke that you were quite aware of how close he was beside you. You turned to see him watching Eliza, leaned back on his hands with his legs outstretched on the blanket. “She loves when people let her make things for them. Inherited the family people-pleaser trait, I guess.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What, does it skip a generation?”

He laughed, and the sound was quiet and warm. “Man, can’t even go easy on me after the day you’ve put me through?”

His tone was light, but it held residual bitterness, and your smile faltered. You couldn’t blame him, but the tension in his jaw as the glow from the fire flickered across it had you on guard. “I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to ruin your weekend with your family.”

He turned his head, and you felt hyper-aware of every twitch of every muscle in your body as he looked over your apologetic expression. “Relax. I know,” he assured you after a moment, looking around at the group. “I can’t be mad, anyway. We both know I kinda bullied you into coming here with me.”

“You didn’t bully me into anything,” you replied, and he pursed his lips. You looked down at your hands. “If I was really that opposed to it, I would’ve just gone on the work trip. It’s not that big a deal.”

“But d’you still think this is the lesser of evils?” There was disbelief in his voice. “I’d guess that you also didn’t expect this weekend to get quite so stressful. I think we both just figured it’d be a funny story to tell when we get back.”

“I can’t deny that,” you admitted, glancing around at the group to determine whether you were within earshot of any of his relatives. “But tomorrow’s our last day here. We don’t have to do this for much longer.”

“And then we can go back to being office neighbors who torment each other on the daily?” he asked, and you huffed.

“Woah, you torment me, not the other way around,” you corrected him, and the look he gave you was skeptical.

“So then all the time you spend nitpicking my habits is just, what, collegial cohabitation?” he asked, and his disbelieving tone made you roll your eyes. “You’re more attentive to my ticks than even my mom's ever been.”

“Maybe if your ticks weren’t obstructing my work day I wouldn’t have to pay such close attention.”

“Please, I’m never in your way.”

“You borrow my pens and never give them back.”

“You steal the coffees that Theo brings me.”

“You don’t even pay for them.”

Your retort elicited a smug smile from him, and he shrugged. “I can’t always help being so charismatic, princess. I won’t apologize for the things people do for me because of my natural charm.”

“Natural charm,” you repeated skeptically. “We both know Theo just has a crush on you. It’s honestly getting to be mean the way you keep entertaining it.”

“Theo has a girlfriend,” he informed you, and your eyebrows shot up. You turned your head to look at him, and he eyed your stunned look with amusement. “I’m not leading her on. She runs the coffee shop around the corner from our office, which is why she always brings an extra latte to work. She doesn’t actually drink coffee, but apparently her girl likes making it for her.”

“You’re making that up,” you accused him, but he shook his head.

“You’d know this if you actually ever talked to her,” he said, and you frowned.

“I thought she didn’t like me. She never even says ‘good morning.’”

“She thinks the same about you,” he said, and as your pensive gaze wandered, he went on, “When you started at our office, all you seemed to want to do was put your head down and work. You didn’t give anyone the time of day. I think it just intimidated a lot of people.”

“Yeah, well, I’d recently had my life as I knew it blown to bits. It turns out work is a good distraction when you’re recently widowed.”

“I didn’t know that then,” he said softly, “but it does explain some things. I know I didn’t always treat you the best when you joined staff, and I’m sorry if it made all that harder.”

“Yeah, what was all that about?” Both your and his eyes followed Eliza Jr. across the yard as she stuffed her face with the marshmallow she’d purported to be roasting for you. “We got off to such a bad start, but upon further reflection, I’ve decided you’re not just an egoistic asshole, so what happened? Was it some weird office hazing?”

He sighed. “I just didn’t know what to do when you showed up. Some big shot up-and-comer out of Columbia giving me the silent treatment for eight hours a day. Some part of me figured you thought you were better than me, and another part of me thought you might be right about it.”

“Seriously?” Your brow was furrowed as you looked over at him. “It was the start of my second job out of college, and I was working ridiculously long hours because I was afraid of being alone with my thoughts.”

“Y’know that’s still why Susan pawns my workload off onto you?” he asked. “I thought you were trying to show me up, and she ended up convinced that you were just more reliable.”

“I should start slacking now that she’s stuck with me,” you mused, and he cracked a grin.

“Maybe I’ll finally go back to being top dog around our office then,” he quipped, but you couldn’t find much humor in it.

“So, what, you were just mean to me because you were afraid I’d upstage you? It was just some high-school mean-girl insecurity bullshit?”

“Honestly, it was more because I thought you didn’t like me,” he said. “You barely said a word to me, and when you did, it was usually criticism. You greeted me in the mornings by reminding me that I was late. I remember asking Georges for advice about you, and he told me that if I acted even colder, you’d warm up ‘cause you’d see I wasn’t messing around. I believed that for longer than I’m proud of.”

“That’s the advice Georges gave you?” There was disbelief in your voice, and he just nodded. “He mentioned when we were at his bar that he’d given you some bad advice when I joined our office. When he said that, I wasn’t imagining that he was the reason our working relationship was so bad from the get-go.”

“I took the advice, so I think I’m as much to blame,” he admitted, and you shrugged. “When I started bringing you coffee in the mornings a few weeks later, I was trying to make good ‘cause I realized it was only making things worse.”

“Then I just thought you were hitting on me.”

“I was.” Your eyes widened, but his tone was casual, and he chuckled. “I get in hindsight that it was in poor taste. I think I’m starting to see why you thought I was a nuisance for so long.”

“What d’you mean, ‘thought’?” Your words were sardonic, but he couldn’t take offense at the dry quip. Despite the amusement in his smile, he looked you over with disbelief.

“When are we gonna get past this whole routine of you pretending to hate me?” he asked. You weren’t sure you were comfortable with the audible sincerity in the question; you didn’t know how to answer it. “It’s been a weird day. We both know that. But I think we’re past the point where you can claim you don’t want anything to do with me.”

Your throat was tight, and you were afraid to speak. “We shouldn’t talk about this when your whole family’s around.”

“We’re out of earshot.”

“We should be cautious.”

“Or maybe we should just go up to bed,” he suggested. You swallowed. “It’s getting late.”

“Yeah,” you acquiesced, your breathing shaky, “I guess it is.”

————

You lingered by the fire a bit longer before going upstairs. Eliza Jr. had made another round through the crowd, and she was giving out graham crackers as if she were bestowing awards (“it is an honor and a privilege,” she told you with no further explanation before repeating the same to Philip). You helped pack up the blankets that had been left as Philip’s younger siblings had gone one by one up to bed, and you wished Philip hadn’t been so quick to give you an extra set of hands. You’d have been lying if you said you didn’t offer to do it as a stalling tactic.

You walked together in silence back to the house and upstairs, and he took the blankets you carried to pack them into his family’s linen closet. As you returned to his room, you weren’t sure what to say. You sat on the side of his bed you’d been sleeping on and began to remove your earrings.

“So, that engagement ring you told Georges I have…” You glanced back at him with your eyebrows raised. He leaned back against his desk in the corner of his room, hands in his pockets. “Please tell me that wasn’t a bluff?”

You sighed. “No, no, I have my late husband’s. I didn’t think this through very far, so we’re just gonna have to hope it fits you.”

You withdrew the pendant of your necklace from beneath your dress, turning away from him as you looked down at yourself, but he was silent another moment. You pulled your hair aside and started fiddling with the chain’s clasp. After a moment, you huffed and glanced back at him. "Could I have a hand?"

He was watching you bewildered, and his expression made you furrow your brow. “What?”

“You sure you’re comfortable with me wearing your late husband’s ring?” His voice was soft, apprehensive, and you pursed your lips.

“It’s fine,” you said after a moment. Your voice lacked conviction, and when Philip knit his concerned brow, you gave him a weak smile. “I’m serious. He always loved a good con; he would’ve been in full support.”

“Of his wife loaning his ring out to some other guy?”

“Only as part of an elaborate hoax,” you said. He appeared tepid. “Are you helping me with the clasp or not?”

“...Yeah. Sure.” Though his words were hesitant, you turned back toward his nightstand where you sat, sweeping your hair back over one shoulder. You stood when he reached you, turned away from him, but you visibly flinched when his hands first brushed the back of your neck to take the clasp between his fingers. His movements stalled. “I can just tell my family my ring is being resized or something if this is all too much for you.”

He stood close behind you; though his voice was quiet, its low thrum felt heavy in the proximity. You shook your head.

“That’s okay. I wouldn't have offered if I wasn't alright with it," you assured him. When he didn’t answer, you turned your head to look back at him. His brow was furrowed. "I trust you with it, Philip. Just help me with the necklace, alright?"

"If you're sure." His voice was little more than a whisper, and his hands were gentle with the delicate chain you wore as you turned back around. A beat passed, and he let out a frustrated huff that tickled the hairs on your neck. You shivered. "This clasp doesn't wanna come quietly."

"You might have to wiggle it a bit if it's stuck. Don't worry about breaking it; it's strong."

"I'll do my best," he said. Another moment passed as you both waited patiently for the necklace to come undone, and you looked down at your feet.

"I really am sorry about today, y'know."

“Do you regret it?” His response was immediate, and as you felt the movement of his hands slow against the skin of your neck, your necklace going still, you were confident he was stalling.

“Which part?”

“You know which part.” The impatience in his voice made you sigh. “Do I really have to say it? Or can we finally stop pretending that things haven’t been weird between us all weekend?”

“It hasn’t been weird all weekend.”

“If everything was normal before that, why did you kiss me?”

The question was pointed and blunt, and you could feel your heart rate pick up. Philip slid your necklace off, taking both sides of it in one hand and reaching around you to set it on your (his) bedside table. You leaned away from him as he did so, giving him room to take a step toward the table, but when he did, he didn’t take a step back. He turned to you with his eyebrows raised, and your stomach turned as you found yourself trapped between him and the bed.

“Here, we should see if the ring fits,” you said, voice unsteady as you broke his gaze, reaching around him for the necklace.

“You’ve gotta stop deflecting,” he said impatiently, and you ignored it as you slid the ring off of the necklace’s chain.

“Gimme your hand; I need you to try it on.” You held the ring up to him between your trembling fingers. He eyed you with exasperation.

“Fine.” You inhaled sharply when his steady hand came to cover yours, holding it in the small space between you to still your grip on the ring, and he slid the ring finger of his other hand through it effortlessly. He barely spared it a glance as his tired stare bordered on irritation. “It fits.”

“Yeah.” The word in your anxious, high-pitched voice was barely a breath.

“Now answer me,” he said, raising his eyebrows expectantly. “You can’t keep pretending it didn’t happen.”

You couldn’t meet his eyes; your gaze was stuck on the perfect fit of the ring around his finger. “I…”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t know,” was all you could say at first. Your heart was in your throat; you were struggling to speak past it. “I shouldn’t have done it. I was just… I was sad, and you were comforting me, and this is the first time anyone’s felt like home since…” You trailed off with a tired huff, dropping his now ring-clad hand. “I can’t do this right now. It’s late, and I’m not thinking straight, and I don’t know what you want me to say.”

You pushed past him where he had you cornered, and although he didn’t try to stop you, he rolled his eyes. “You can’t keep using that excuse.”

You didn’t look back at him as you walked toward his bathroom, but his words made you frown. “When have I used that excuse?” you asked incredulously.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he postured, “maybe earlier after you kissed me? You’re messing with my head, Y/N, and it sucks.”

“Like you haven’t been messing with mine all weekend?” you shot back, turning on him furiously. “You wanna know why I kissed you? Well, I want to know why you asked me to come here in the first place.”

He raised an eyebrow. “We’ve covered this.”

“No, actually, I don’t know that we have,” you argued. “I poured my heart out to you about my late husband and gave you a full explanation for why I acted how I did when I joined our office, and you haven’t even explained why you needed a fake girlfriend in the first place.”

He sighed. “I just wanted my parents off my back. They were incessant when they thought I was single.”

“Then why didn’t you change your story once they started insisting you bring me home?” you asked. “You could’ve told them we broke up and that you weren’t back to dating yet. Or that you’d met someone else. But instead you blindly agreed to bring me here before you even knew whether I’d be willing to come.”

“I just wanted them to think I was in a stable relationship,” he defended. “I’m their oldest; I’m supposed to have my shit figured out by now. Nobody wants to hear that I’m all alone with no stable plan for my future. You don’t know how much time they spent trying to control my life when they thought I had my options open.”

“Then why me?” you pushed, and he raised an eyebrow. “Why not tell them it was a friend or someone you met on a dating app? What about Henriette? I’m sure she’d be more than happy to play the part of ‘doting girlfriend’ when your family’s around. The way she fawns over you, I’m surprised she didn’t come up with this story first.” Your tone was jeering, and Philip’s eyes were narrow as he looked you over. His jaw was tense, and you were confident you’d hit a sore spot.

“Henriette’s exactly the problem.” His voice was low, and the frustration in his tone made you raise an eyebrow. “Our relationship was terrible, but my entire family kept trying to push me to marry her. Nobody stopped for even a second to consider whether that was what I wanted.”

“Then grow up and tell them,” you bit back. “Even if they adored her, bursting their bubble about what kind of person she is would’ve still been easier than lying to them for two years about a fake relationship.”

“You don’t get it,” he maintained. “My father sees me as his legacy. He worked his whole life so I could settle down and start a family, and Henriette was his ticket to seeing grandkids. When we broke up, he barely talked to me for weeks. We only started talking again when I told my parents I’d found somebody else.”

“But why me?” you reiterated. “You couldn’t have thought that choosing me was going to make your life easier. When we first met, we barely spoke.”

He eyed you with his tongue burrowed into his cheek for a moment. “I did think it was gonna be an easy out.”

“And what the hell made you think that?”

“The office Christmas party,” he said. “That’s about when I told my family I was seeing someone new.”

You furrowed your brow. “What happened that night that made you decide to tell them that?”

“You really don’t remember?” He quirked a brow, and your expression must have been resolutely blank, because after a moment, he sighed, taking a seat back on the side of his bed. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. I knew you were drinking that night, and I didn’t exactly get a warm welcome back into the office the next Monday.”

“What happened at the Christmas party?”

“It’s more what happened after we left the Christmas party,” he said, and you frowned.

“What does that mean?” you asked, and you narrowed your eyes as you considered the implication in his words. “I’m sorry, we didn’t hook up, did we?”

His eyes widened at the question, the alarm in your voice. “Jesus, no. You were drunk half out of your mind; what kind of person do you think I am?”

“Don’t act like it’s an insane question. Do you even hear yourself? ‘After we left the party’?” you echoed, and he pursed his lips. “You must know how that sounds.”

“Fine, that’s on me,” he admitted. “We didn’t ‘hook up,’ you dragged me out to, like, three different clubs. You were all over me that night. By the time I managed to get you home, you’d pulled my shirt off of my body so that you could wear it.”

“Oh, please, there’s no way I was ‘all over you,’” you scoffed, mocking his voice. “I do remember talking to you at the party, but the rest of this just sounds like revisionist history.”

“What else do you remember from that night?” he asked, and although his tone was accusatory, the question was sincere. “Anything past leaving the office? Do you even remember leaving?”

You pursed your lips as you considered the question; you didn’t want to admit the answer. “I do remember waking up in a shirt that wasn’t mine to credit card charges from bars in the area. I froze the card, though, ‘cause I thought they were fraud.”

The laugh he huffed out sounded vindicated. "There you go."

"But that doesn't prove any of what you're saying."

"Argue all you want, but this is how I remember it," he said, "I'm just trying to explain why I did what I did. I shouldn't have dragged you into all this, but it also wasn't a plot to make you miserable."

"And it didn't occur to you to just cut it when your dad started insisting you bring me home?"

"If I'd told him we broke up, he would've never believed me about anyone else I dated. I would’ve been expected to go back to Henriette." His gaze was low; you were struggling to stay mad as he explained himself. "They can’t stop talking about it while you’re here; imagine how bad it is when you’re not."

You didn’t respond at first; you couldn’t look at him as his words sat with you, and you couldn’t help but quietly resent everyone who’d told you to communicate with Philip. The silence was heavy, but it felt clear. You walked through Philip’s room back toward your suitcase, looking for something to sleep in.

“God, I feel pathetic,” you huffed quietly as you dug through your clothes. Everything had happened so fast, and you’d made so many assumptions, all of them now seemingly incorrect. “I thought this was all a ploy to make Henriette jealous. It somehow feels worse knowing that I’m actually here because you thought I was pining for you.”

“Hang on, that’s not what I said, either,” Philip defended, and you rolled your eyes.

“You can’t walk this one back after you just insisted that I was throwing myself at you at the office Christmas party,” you said. “Spare me the further humiliation.”

“In all fairness, you came onto me like three hours ago,” he pointed out, and when you turned to meet his eyes with a dead stare, you found him watching you with a small, playful smile. “C’mon, princess, don’t tell me the irony’s lost on you.”

“You didn’t exactly shut me down,” you reminded him pointedly, pajamas-in-hand as you stood.

“No, I didn’t.” You raised your eyebrows, and he shrugged, standing to join you at the end of the bed. “What? You want me to deny it?”

“No, I just… didn’t think you’d be so unapologetic about it.”

“I didn’t think you’d want me to apologize.” He folded his arms as he leaned against the bottom post of his bed. “I didn’t drag you into this lie ‘cause I thought you wanted me. You were all over me at that staff Christmas party, but that’s besides the point.”

"Then what… ?" You trailed off, unable to articulate exactly what it was you wanted to ask. You didn't know what to make of his words.

"I know you haven't missed my friends and family telling you how I talk about you. I've been calling home about you since you joined the office, and it's felt pathetic," he confessed, and the way he spoke so frankly put you on edge. You could hardly believe the words coming out of his mouth to a point where you couldn't fathom that he meant what he seemed to. He eyed you hesitantly for a moment. "I felt so dumb doing that that part of me wants to let you keep feeling dumb here for a few more minutes."

"Classy," you commented, and when he laughed, you could feel your face warm.

"Can't help myself," he said. "You kept me sweating bullets all afternoon. I think it would be fair payback."

"That wasn't my greatest move.”

"It scared the shit out of me," he informed you, and you pursed your lips. "A lot’s happened this weekend, but I thought we were at a point where we could finally talk about it."

"I wasn't sure you'd think there was anything worth talking about." Your voice was small.

“Seriously?”

"I figured I was just here to make Henriette jealous. Anything between us was an afterthought.”

“You only met her earlier today. If my plan was just to make her jealous, what about the rest of the weekend?” Your breath stalled as you met his eyes; you were afraid to ask what he meant. You’d been reluctant to assign any meaning to the way he’d sought you out with his family around or the way he spoke to you when nobody was around to hear it. “Not much of the time we spent together was necessary to sell the story that we were dating.”

“We did a pretty good job selling it, though.”

“And then some.” You hadn’t forgotten the way you’d woken up in his arms every morning you spent at his house. You hadn’t missed his excitement for your road trip to his childhood home nor the care he took to make sure you were comfortable at his family dinner. You’d tried to ignore the little touches and passing glances all weekend, but apparently, he knew that you, too, had been keeping score of what was done in private that should have been for show. “I didn’t think I could be any clearer, to be honest. I figured you’d clocked it in the way I seek you out at work, all the time I spend hanging out at your desk.”

“I thought you just found it funny to rile me up.” You shrugged, refusing to acknowledge the heavy implication in his words. It had your heart rate rising; the hand that held your pajamas trembled.

“So you just thought I was an asshole?”

“...Kind of.” You swallowed, and your throat felt tight. He chuckled.

“Looks like Georges was right about me being tactless.”

You wore a small frown when you looked him in the eye, and his gaze was soft as he watched you. His words were heavy with meaning, but the air felt light — it was as though a haze was lifting and you were seeing him clearly for the first time. “What are you saying?”

His smile was melancholy. “You kissed me earlier today, and I thought it meant that something was different. You've gotta have some idea of where I’m coming from when I ask whether I was just in the right place at the right time.”

Your heart was in your throat; you raised your eyebrows. You were sure you looked dumbfounded, but all you felt was sick. “You…?”

“I already feel stupid; don't make me come right out and say it." He raked a hand through his hair as he sighed, and you could only watch him, stunned. "Did it… mean anything? Or were you just looking for comfort?"

Your voice was breathless and weak. “Can’t it be both?”

“That’s such a cop out,” he said, and you sighed.

“I don’t know anymore, Philip; you’ve taken care of me this weekend in a way I never imagined you could, and when everything came crashing down with the truth about my past, I was such a wreck, and it would've been so easy for you to be angry after I was so careless, but you were so gentle with me." You glanced down at the pajamas you were still holding, playing with the fabric between your fingers. You couldn't meet his eyes. "You've been better to me than I've deserved today, and that sucks, because I really had my heart set on hating you when we got back to town."

His smile was soft. “Sorry for making myself so hard to hate.”

“It’s been a real inconvenience.” Though your tone was lighthearted, your nervous gaze was heavy as you looked back at him.

“I think you’ll get over it.” He winked, and you could feel the heat rising from the nape of your neck to the tips of your ears. He looked you over, and a beat passed before he unfolded his arms and took a step toward you, hands in his pockets. “So what now, princess?”

His gaze was confident, expectant as he looked down at you; only the tiny crease in his brow betrayed any crack in his self-assured front. You, however, were a deer in headlights, frozen and sure that this was some kind of trap leading you to meet your maker.

“I don’t know.” You weren’t sure you could force the words from your tongue to form a real answer. You felt faint when he took another step toward you, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

“You don’t hate me, apparently, but you’re giving me a whole lot of non-answers.”

“You’re not exactly asking easy questions,” you defended, and he smiled.

“Then let me give you something a little simpler.” Your breath caught when his stare flickered to your lips, lingering long enough that it was unmistakable. “If I tried to kiss you right now, would you stop me?”

Your eyes were wide as they met his, his confident gaze almost imposing in the proximity. But you didn’t move — you didn’t speak, you didn’t back away, and you certainly didn’t stop him. He took another step, and he reached out, brushed a hair away from your face. “Tell me this isn't what you want, and I won’t bring it up ever again.”

“Philip…” You trailed off when his fingertips brushed over the skin of your cheek, and when he closed the space between you, his hand fell to cup your face. The pajamas you held fell lamely from your limp grasp.

“Yeah?” He raised his eyebrows, and the look in his eyes was expectant as he lifted your chin up toward him. “C’mon. It’s not like you to go all quiet on me. Where’d all those opinions of yours go?”

“I…” He was holding you at your cheek and your waist, pulling you into him, but your arms were still anchored to your sides. You knew what you wanted. But you didn’t know if you could bring yourself to reach out and grab it— no, grab him.

“Do you want this, or don’t you?” He combed a hand into your hair, his eyes following the motion, and his thumb swept down the side of your jaw. “Because, princess, trust me: I know what I want.”

Words were failing you. The silence between you stretched on, but he didn’t press any further; he waited, and his actions were patient. His hand slid from your waist to the small of your back. His eyes were fixed on your lips, so when you spoke, he couldn’t have missed it.

“Please…”

“Please?” he repeated.

“Please kiss me.” Your voice was no louder than a whisper, and after you said it, his smile widened, but it wasn’t smug. His gaze was soft.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

When he leaned down to kiss you, his lips were gentle, and your hands rose to rest on his chest as he pulled you close. Your eyes fluttered shut as your nose brushed against his, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, smiling at the sound that escaped him when you pulled lightly on his hair. His hands settled low on your waist when you pulled him into yourself.

As you threaded a hand into his hair, the way he handled you grew needier; his grip on you tightened, and his mouth against yours became more insistent. His tongue was in your mouth; he held you by the nape of your neck, and you were doing all you could to keep up with him as his touch became sloppy. He pressed open mouthed kisses down your jawline, and you tilted your head back, enjoying the way his grip on you tightened and his hands migrated to your lower back.

You stumbled backwards as he leaned into you, sucking a hickey into the delicate skin of your neck, and though you knew you should’ve stopped him, you couldn’t bring yourself to. You’d deal with the consequences come morning. He hooked a hand under one of your thighs, pulling your leg up to his waist, and you wrapped it around him, pulling his body closer as he pushed you back against the bedroom wall. Your dress was riding up your thighs, but your exposed skin was hardly a fleeting thought as you pulled his head back up to kiss him on the mouth. That time, his lips were slower. After a long moment, he pulled back to look you in the eye.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while now,” he said, voice breathless, brushing a hair off your forehead, and your chest was heaving.

“Then don’t stop there.” You looked up at him with wide, pleading eyes, and his eyebrows jumped. His hand fell to the side of your head, his thumb brushing over the skin under your ear.

“Really?” Despite the surprise in his voice, he looked far from upset, and you shrugged.

“I mean, as long as you’re amenable,” you said softly, and the tension in his raised eyebrows made you hesitate. “You do want me, don’t you?”

“I do,” he said, but something in his words was tentative, and it made you frown.

“But?” you prodded, and he sighed.

“I need to know if this is a one time thing.” Your eyebrows shot up, and he was quick to continue, “It’s fine if that’s all you want. But I’d rather get on the same page beforehand.”

“I don’t want it to be,” you said. “I don’t know what that means for us going forward, but I don’t want this to be just tonight.”

“First clear answer I’ve gotten today,” he said softly as he leaned in to kiss you once more, and you rolled your eyes. He kissed you hard, shamelessly as you ran your fingers through his hair, and you smiled against his lips. His tongue brushed against yours when his hand ran up your thigh, pushing your dress with it until his fingertips met the lacy material of your panties; though he slid his fingers under their hem, moving toward your inner thigh, his confident lips faltered against yours when you shivered under his touch.

“Can I?” he whispered into your open mouth, and your hand came down to cover his as you sucked softly on his bottom lip. You moved his hand to your center, and you could feel his breath as he inhaled sharply. You released his lip from between yours.

“Please.”

That was all he needed to hear; he ran his hand over your clothed slit, and you tensed, arching against him as your hand ran up his arm. Your breathing was labored when his fingers breached the hem of your panties, and you froze as the fabric pulled at your hips. You squeezed his bicep when his fingertips dipped between your lips, and you dropped your head back against the wall behind you.

“You’re so wet already,” he murmured as he kissed the side of your head.

“I’ve been thinking about having your hands on me for the past hour,” you confessed, and he chuckled.

“The feeling’s mutual.” His slick fingertips circled your clit, and your hips lurched, chasing the feeling of his skin. He only drew back a touch, but the loss of the feeling drew a whimper from your pouted lips, and you rolled your hips down against his hand as you tightened your leg around his waist, pulling him closer. You felt him grin, lips brushing against your ear. “God, you’re needy.”

"Because I need you," you pleaded. "Touch me properly."

“Gladly.” You tensed involuntarily when he rolled your clit against the soft skin of his middle finger, and your breath was caught in your throat, your jaw tight. His touch was alight, and you bit your lip as your hips lurched. “You like that?”

“Mhm.”

“Talk to me, princess. Use your words.” His fingers slid down to your dripping pussy, and you whimpered, tightening your hold on his neck, gripping the collar of his shirt. When he slid two fingers inside you, you gasped, rolling your hips against his hand.

“Fuck,” you breathed as he started thrusting his fingers inside you, and he nipped the skin of your jaw. His other hand lifted the skirt of your dress from your other side, settling at your waist, and as you tried to grind down on him, he pinned your hips back against the wall. “Philip, harder, please.”

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, and when his fingers hit you deeper, his palm struck your clit, and you cried out, scrabbling for purchase on the fabric of his shirt. He pushed another finger inside you without notice, and your moan was stuttered, the stretch just a shadow of a burn as he curled them against your walls; you could feel your knees going weak under your shuddering body. “Just let it out for me.”

And that was all you could do. His hand sped up against you, and one of your hands ran up the back of his neck as the other knitted itself into the front of his shirt; his smile was smug as you frantically grabbed at him. Your whimpers were weak when Philip pressed his fingertips against the front of your walls, and he felt you clench down against him.

“Right there,” you whined.

“Right here?” He did it harder, more intentionally that time, and your thighs trembled, you bit your lower lip. You nodded deliriously.

“Yes,” you moaned as his thrusts grew quicker and more forceful. The only things keeping your spent body upright were his hands under your hips and your grip on his shoulders; your cries were growing louder. “Oh, God; oh, fuck.”

“Shh, princess, we’ve got my family next door,” he chastised you, but the smile in his voice was distinct. Your groan was muffled through pursed lips. “You don’t want to ruin their impression of you as such a sweet, wholesome girl, do you?”

You shook your head frantically, pressing your lips together, but— “I’m so close.”

“Yeah? You’re gonna come for me?” He pressed the heel of his hand down against your clit, and your mouth fell open in a silent whine, brow knit. “Come on. Let me have it.”

Your nails were digging into the skin of his back through his thin button-down as pressure built in your groin, but he didn’t seem to mind. Your leg around him was a vice, and your hips jerked helplessly against the hand he used to pin you against the wall; the stretch of his three fingers inside you was dizzying, and you were struggling to form words, overwhelmed by the sensation as you approached your peak.

You came with a shriek, and his lips met yours, muffling the sound as he worked you through your orgasm. He released your hip to pin you against the wall by the neck. His tongue was in your mouth; your whimpers were close to cries as he fucked you with his fingers, and his hand only slowed against you when you went limp in his grasp.

“Holy shit.” Your eyes fell shut as you leaned back against the wall, and Philip kissed down your neck as he withdrew his hand from you, instead pushing your dress up to your waist.

“Take this off,” he muttered against your skin. You didn’t respond, chest heaving as you caught your breath, but you helped him lift the dress up over your head, leaving you only in underwear as you fixed the hair it ruffled. He tossed the garment aside. While your arms returned to his shoulders, he held you back by the waist for a moment, making your eyebrows jump. His gaze roamed your figure while he took a step toward you, and your breath was caught as his hands ran down your hips, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You shivered. “You’re stunning.”

Your smile was self-conscious as he pulled you close, tilted your face up toward his with his fingers under your chin, and he kissed you softly. His hands settled atop the swell of your ass, and when he pulled you against him, his erection pressed against your lower stomach through the fabric of his pants, drawing a gasp from your lips against his. He smiled when you rolled your hips up against his, pushing him back toward his bed. You kissed him hard, undoing the buttons on his shirt, and he laughed as he stumbled backward.

“Easy there.” As he bumped into the end of the mattress, he stilled you by the waist, and his hands ran up your back to unhook your bra. He slid the straps down your arms. “I’m not going anywhere, princess.”

“I’m allowed to be impatient when I look like this and you’re still fully dressed.” You gave him a pointed look as you discarded your bra, and he grinned.

“In all fairness, you look good like this.”

“Shut up, Hamilton.” You could feel his smile against your lips when you kissed him, finished unbuttoning his shirt, and he sat back onto the foot of the bed as he shrugged his shirt off his shoulders. You climbed onto his lap without hesitation, and he pulled you close with a firm grip on your thighs as your arms hung loosely around his neck. When your lips again met his, it was slower; your hands moved to his body, his bare torso and his warm skin, and ultimately to his belt buckle.

You kissed down the side of his neck as your hands traveled south, and he squeezed your ass when you latched onto the skin below his ear, sucking a deep purple bruise into the tender space.

“Marking your territory?” he asked between heavy breaths as you pulled the tail of his belt out from its buckle. You smiled.

“Trying to make sure Henriette gets that you've moved on.” You undid the button on the top of his pants and unzipped them, dragging your fingers over his bulge as you did so, and he let out a ragged breath.

“Don't tease me.” His voice was rough as he lifted your face by the chin, and you looked up at him with wide eyes to see his weary expression. You traced your fingers over the outline of his dick in his boxers.

“Or what?” you asked softly, tilting your head as you watched his chest heave. His thumb ran across your jaw, and his gaze was fixed on your lips.

“Or I won’t invite you to the Hamilton Thanksgiving?” His tone was mild, and your scandalized gasp was weak.

“Oh, you wouldn’t dare.”

“I know, I’m really cruel, huh?”

“I don’t know how I’m gonna handle it.” The final few words were murmured against his lips as he leaned in to kiss you once more, but you pulled back a moment later as you pushed yourself off the edge of the bed to stand and lowered yourself to your knees. You tugged his pants down with you, looking up at him as you reached for the waistband of his boxers. “Can I?”

“By all means.” He sounded winded as you pulled his underwear down over his hard cock, and you leaned in to kiss his stomach, running your hands up his thighs as you settled between his legs. His breathing was heavy as you ghosted a finger up to the tip of his hard cock. His hips jerked forward the moment your lips touched the head, and you pulled back with a soft laugh.

“You’re so needy.” He didn’t seem to have much patience for your playful gaze as you took his dick in one hand.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve,” he said.

“What are you gonna do about it?”

He sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Do you want me to do something about it?”

“Wouldn’t mind it.” You took his dick fully in your mouth, then, hollowing your cheeks as you brought it to the back of your tongue, and he groaned, a hand flying to your hair. You pulled back to spit on it, pumping it in your hand. “Do you have it in you?”

You ran your tongue up the underside of his cock before taking it as deep as you could, gagging as you massaged the base. Philip’s moan was gratifying as he weaved a hand into your hair, grasping it by the roots, and you looked up at him with wide eyes when his grip went firm. He gently pushed your head down further after you bobbed back up, making you choke. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes. He held you there a moment, but when you came back up for air, you went back down on him almost immediately. He grunted as you tried to take him deeper, coming up to trace your tongue over the head of his cock. You sucked it gently, lowering your mouth on him slowly, and when you reached down to cup his balls, his hips lurched forward. You gagged when his cock hit the back of your throat.

“Shit, sorry—”

You pulled back with a cough, spit dripping down your chin as you looked up at him with wet eyes. “I don't mind.”

His eyebrows jumped. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You guided the hand he'd begun to withdraw back to your hair. “Go ahead.”

“You want me to fuck your throat, princess?” He pulled your hair back by the roots, forcing you to look up at him. The corners of his lips quirked up. “C'mon. Say it.”

“Fuck. Yeah, I do.” You leaned into his touch, pumping his dick in your fist. “Please, Philip.”

“Alright, just be good for me then.” When you took his cock back between your lips, flattening your tongue against the underside, he pulled you down on it firmly that time, holding you in place when you started to choke. “You can take it.”

Your brow was creased as you looked up at him, and when he thrusted gently into your throat, prodding your gag reflex, you had to remind yourself to breathe through your nose. Your lips touched where your hand had been working the base of his cock when he pushed his hips forward, and he pulled you back to move your hand, interlacing your fingers with those of his free hand where it rested on his thigh. “Come on. Take it all. You're doing so good.”

His gentle tone contradicted the force that was growing behind his thrusts, making you tear up as he abused the back of your throat. His grip on your hair was tight then, and he squeezed your hand in his.

It was only a moment later that he pushed you down to the base of his cock, and he groaned at your throat convulsing around him, rejecting the intrusion. He pulled you back up for air.

“You okay?” You only nodded as you wrapped your lips around his dick once more, going as far as you could without him forcing you, and his soft grunts were encouragement enough. “Fuck, princess. You're so good.”

Your eyes fell shut, preening at the praise and trying to focus on your breathing as he rolled his hips into your mouth. You looked up at him when his thrusts grew quicker, his breathing heavier, and you squeezed his hand in yours. Your other hand came up to roll his balls between your fingers, and he moaned.

His hips stilled a moment later, his body going rigid, and when you kept bobbing your head, he had to pull you back.

“Fuck,” he breathed.

Although your chest was heaving as you tried to catch your breath, you managed a weak, “What?”

He inhaled slowly. “That's too fucking good. I don't wanna come like that, though; I wanna fuck you properly.”

Your smile was smug, but your voice was hoarse when you responded, “Aw, you're struggling not to come already?”

You gasped at his sharp tug on your hair. His gaze was entertained. “Play nice if you still want anything more from me.”

He raised his eyebrows expectantly, but you weren't fazed. “What, you don't wanna fuck me anymore? You haven't even come.”

“Maybe I will come down your throat, then. I've been trying to shut your smart mouth up for years.”

Your pout as you blinked back the tears from him fucking your throat made him smile. “Please don't tease.”

“You've already come. What makes you think you deserve to get fucked?”

“I'll be so good.” Your strained plea didn't budge his expression, and you eyed his amused look. “And you know how long you've wanted this for. Me on my knees, begging you to fuck me. Why would you keep both of us from getting what we want?”

His tongue was burrowed into his cheek as he eyed you for another moment, reaching down to wipe the tears and smeared mascara from your cheeks. “Fuck. Yeah, alright, c’mere.”

You smiled as you stood, and he pulled you up toward him with the hand on his thigh. He grabbed you by the waist, pulling you onto his lap, and you leaned in to kiss him once more, softer that time. He had a different agenda. As you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, his hand was at your neck and his tongue pushing its way into your mouth, and you moaned against him, grinding down against his dick.

“You're so gorgeous.” The heat of his breath was in your mouth. You tugged at his bottom lip with your teeth.

It was sudden when he stood, picking you up with him by the thighs, and you yelped, clinging to his shoulders. The sound made him laugh as he pulled back, his nose resting against the side of yours. “Relax, princess, I've got you.”

“You've gotta stop calling me that,” you murmured against his cheek, and he bit your lip playfully.

“Don't hold your breath.” He stepped out of the pants that hung around his ankles as he brought you around to the side of the bed, and when he laid you down beneath him, it was careful, and he kissed your neck as he laid your head back.

You tried to pull him back onto the bed with you with your hands at his shoulders, and you pushed yourself further onto the mattress with your feet. “Come here.”

Ever obliging, he followed, kneeling above you as you pulled yourself up to kiss him once more. His mouth dropped to your neck as his hands ran down to your hips, tugging at the band of your underwear.

“Can I take these off?” he whispered.

“D’you have a condom?”

“Yeah, hang on.” He kissed your shoulder before he rolled off of you to stand. He grabbed his wallet from the bedside table and withdrew the foil packed from its inner pocket, and you raised your eyebrows.

“You've just been carrying that around?”

“I've carried a condom in my wallet since I was sixteen.” He tore open the packet, withdrawing the condom and rolling it down his hard cock.

“Hope it's not expired since you haven't had a chance to use it yet.”

He looked down with an eyebrow cocked at your self-satisfied smile. “Do you want me to fuck you or not?”

You shrugged. “Still considering it.”

“You're such a pain in my ass.” His voice held no ire as he grabbed you by the ankles and yanked you toward him on the bed, and you squealed. He leaned down to take the fabric of your underwear between his fingers, pulling it down your legs, and you bent your knees for him to pull it over your feet. He took you by the thighs, then, parting them for himself and settling between them on the mattress as he pushed you back to where you'd been.

Your breathing was quick as he leaned over you, pulling one of your legs up to his hip, and you gasped when the tip of his cock ran up your soaked pussy. His other hand landed on the mattress beside your head, holding him up above you.

He furrowed his brow as he looked into your wide, nervous eyes. “You're sure you want this?”

“Please.” You ground your hips up against the shaft of his dick, and you flinched when it brushed against your clit. “Wanna feel you inside me. Come on.”

“Okay,” he said, voice breathy as he reached down to line his dick up with your entrance. Your stomach turned when you felt his tip against you, pushing firmly inside, and it didn't take long for it to start to burn.

“Wait, wait, go slow.” You scrambled for purchase in the sheets, ultimately pushing yourself up onto your elbow and holding him by the chest. “You're too big. I need a second.”

“Hey, relax.” He held your hand that laid on his chest. Your eyes were wide as you looked up at him. “It's okay. Do you want me to stop?”

“No, no, just…” You swallowed. “Be gentle at first? Please?”

“Of course.” He leaned down to kiss you on the forehead. “Just lay down. I'll take care of you.”

You did so hesitantly, and he followed you back down to the mattress, his hand on your hip and his lips on your neck. The second push of his hips against yours made you groan, his dick pushing further inside of you, and he fell into a rhythm rolling his hips down as he eased you open.

“There you go. Good girl,” he whispered at his final shallow thrust, bottoming out. You whimpered as he ground his hips gently against yours. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Your voice was barely a breath. “You can move. I'm okay.”

“Okay princess. Lemme go slow.” One of his hands ran up the bottom of your thigh, bending it for him and spreading you wider as he pulled back. His first few thrusts hurt, stretching you slowly open, and you could only groan into his shoulder atop you, but as he fell into a rhythm, you could feel yourself begin to relax.

“Fuck, yeah, just like that,” you said softly as you arched against him, letting your head fall flat against the bed.

“Yeah?” He thrusted his hips harder against yours in a way that made your eyes widen. He ran a hand up the back of your leg, spreading you wider for him as he increased his pace. “Yeah? Like that? You like that?”

“Oh, shit,” you groaned, “I need more. I need you to fuck me harder.”

“And I need you,” —he grabbed you by the jaw, turning your head to look him in the eye— “to be quieter.”

“You're still thinking about your parents next door?” Your words were jeering. “At a time like this?”

“Well, now I'm thinking a little less considerately.” His hand dropped to your neck, and your eyebrows jumped. “You promised you'd be good for me.”

“I think I'm just the picture of decorum.”

“Uh huh.” He leaned into you as he slowed down. “It's alright. You will be.”

“Wait, please, harder,” you whined, eyes falling shut. He stilled inside you, watching you expectantly. “Philip. Please don't stop.”

“What'll you do for it?” He kissed you softly with a smile, running his thumb along your jaw.

“Fuck. Anything. Please.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“Call me daddy.” Your eyes flew open, but his grin was easy as his hand left your next to rest on the mattress beside you. “Come on. We both saw how you reacted to the jokes I've made about it. I might've been a little stupid this weekend, but I'm not dumb.”

“That doesn't even make sense.”

“You know what I'm saying, though. Don't you?” He kissed your jaw. “Tell me that doesn't get you off, and I'll leave it alone.”

“Philip,” you whined. “Just want you to fuck me.”

“Gladly. Just say the word.”

“I don’t…” You clearly had every intention of defending yourself, but as he raised his eyebrows, he could feel your pussy tighten around him. “Please. I need you.”

“Please what?”

He smoothed your hair back away from your face as he watched you, and you swallowed hard. “Please, daddy.”

Your voice was hardly audible, but it made him smile as he ground his hips down against yours. “Say again? I can't even hear you; you're mumbling.”

“Come on,” you pouted. “You promised.”

“I want to hear it. Say it like you mean it.” He'd returned to thrusting shallowly in you, then, but only slowly. It was barely enough stimulation to tease.

“Fuck me harder. Please.”

“Are you really gonna make me ask you again?” Philip lifted your head with a hand beneath your chin to look at him. His pupils were blown wide. Between the way he felt, stretching you wide, and the way your skin rippled under his fingers on his neck, soft but firm, there's little he could've asked for that you wouldn't have done.

“Please, daddy,” you finally said. “I want you to fuck me. Properly. Like you mean it.”

“Oh yeah?” He sped up the roll of his hips against yours, his grin widening as he dropped his head to rest against your skin. “How properly? Hm? You want me to ruin you?”

“Yes, fuck, please,” you moaned, and he moved the hand on your neck to rest against the mattress, holding him up above you. “Please, please, please.”

He didn't respond, only pushing your thigh in his hand further against your chest as he lifted himself onto his knees. As he leaned over you, his grip on your leg lifted your hips into the air, driving your upper back into the mattress as he thrust harder into you.

“Shit, you're so tight,” he huffed, “that feels damn good.”

His words made you groan, and he pulled back fully onto his knees, holding you against him by the hips for leverage. Your grip twisted into his bedsheets as his back hovered out of reach, and you rolled your hips against him, meeting his thrusts as you arched your back.

“I don't know how long I'm gonna last.” His words were breathy. “You feel too good. Want you to cum for me first, though. What do you need for that, princess?”

“Touch me, daddy,” you pleaded, and he groaned, driving into you harder. His grip tightened in one hand, but the other released your hip to find your clit, circling it softly.

“Here?” he asked. “This good for you?”

“Yeah,” you moaned. “So good.”

Your hips jerked and your legs trembled at the dual stimulation, and it wasn't long before you found yourself close to orgasm, worked up from how overwhelmed you were. When you clenched down on him, he could feel it.

“Shit, you close?” he asked, and you nodded.

“Don't stop.”

“Never.” His thrusts into you slowed down only slightly so he could fuck you harder, your entire body jostled by the force, and your legs tensed as you finally reached your peak. You came with a gasp, and he didn't stop fingerings you, working your clit through the orgasm.

It was only when you found yourself too sensitive, jerking away from his touch, that he slowed down.

“You okay?” he murmured, thrusting gently into you. You nodded. “Can you keep going?”

“Please. I want you to cum. Want you to feel good.”

“Shit, okay.” His hand that was fingering you had been on your lower stomach, but it moved to your other thigh so he was holding you by the legs, pressing them into your chest. When he picked back up his pace, his grip tightened, and your mouth fell open in a silent whine. “Fuck. Yeah. You're so tight. You like that?”

“Mhm.” Your response came out a whimper as you sank your grip into the bedsheets, and you barely registered your fingernails digging into your palms.

He groaned. “Oh, God, I'm gonna cum.”

“Cum in me,” you pleaded, rolling your hips pathetically up against his. His thrusts were growing sloppy and frantic. “Cum for me.”

“Shit.” He came with a gasp, and although his grip tensed on your thighs for a moment, you barely had time to wince before he was releasing them, dropping them gently to the mattress before leaning over you to kiss you. “You okay?” he whispered against your lips.

“Yeah.” Your voice was weak, and he pulled back enough to look you in the eye, smoothing your hair away from your face.

“Yeah?”

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck. You pulled him down to kiss you again. “Yeah.”

“Okay.” He dipped down to kiss your jaw as he slowly pulled out, and your arms were limp on his shoulders as you caught your breath. “That was… I… well, fuck.” His voice was ragged as he rested his forehead on your shoulder, both your bodies damp with sweat. You had his hair between your fingers, fingertips tracing his scalp, and you couldn’t help but huff out a laugh at his declaration.

“Exactly what I was thinking,” you murmured, and he chuckled as he lifted his head to kiss you on the mouth, leaning on his arm beside your head. He brushed a hair out of your face, hand coming down to hold you by the nape of your neck as his thumb ghosted over the bottom of your cheek. When he pulled back, he eyed your features thoughtlessly, gaze never leaving your face, and you squirmed under his scrutiny despite his soft smile.

“You’re staring.”

“Let me keep this moment for a few more seconds.”

You scoffed. “My hair is in knots and there’s mascara running halfway down my face. I’m not exactly a vision right now.”

He creased his brow when he looked you in the eye. “You have no idea how stunning you are, do you?”

You smiled timidly. “I won't turn down the reminder."

He grinned as he dipped down to kiss you softly once more. "I'm happy to let you know, princess." He rolled off of you and sat up to take off his condom, tying it off before discarding it in the trash. Your eyes ran over his toned back as he did so, watching the low light dip and swim in the clefts between his muscles, and he glanced back over his shoulder at you as you pulled yourself up to sit at his headboard. He raised an eyebrow when he saw you watching him. "What?"

"This still feels surreal," you said quietly, and he didn't respond as he came to sit beside you, waiting for you to go on. "Three days ago, we barely spoke. This isn't how I expected this weekend to end."

"That makes two of us." He glanced down at you, eyeing your pensive expression. "Even my most optimistic imagination was that we would come back friends."

"This never crossed your mind?"

"Well, I wouldn't say that, exactly." His playful grin made you roll your eyes. "What, like you never thought about it?"

"Only in moments of weakness," you defended, and he quirked a brow.

"'Moments of weakness'?" he repeated. "What does that mean? Late nights at the office when we're the only ones around? When I take off my jackets and you see a little too much skin?"

"When Susan's getting a little too handsy," you corrected him, and he grinned. "I wish she wouldn't do it in the middle of shared spaces, though, because God does that woman know how to paint a picture."

"Now I might actually have a good reason to cut her off," he said. "I wouldn't wanna make anybody jealous. That sounds like a bad way to facilitate a healthy workplace dynamic."

"What d'you mean, might?" you asked incredulously. "You're gonna go back to flirting with our boss after all this?"

"Depends," he said, and you self-consciously pulled your knees into your chest where you sat. "What are we doing when we get back?"

"I don't know." Your voice was small. "What do you want?"

"Well—" He took your hand in his from where it rested atop your knee, watching your fingers as you laced them into his. "—first and foremost, I want you to stop stealing my parking spot."

"It's not your parking spot."

"But then I want you to let me take you out." Your eyebrows jumped as he squeezed your hand. "Properly. Somewhere we're not putting on a show for my family or worrying about work."

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He leaned gently into you, bumping your shoulders with his. “Let's finally go on that first date I've been lying to my family about for so long.”

Your smile was soft. “And where would you take me?”

“Well, I could always use a date to my company Christmas party,” he said, and you couldn't help your laugh. “I have this hot coworker that I share a space with who I've been trying to make jealous for years.”

“Maybe if you just tried being nice to her you'd have better results.”

“Would you believe that never occurred to me?”

You glanced over at him, and he was watching you with shining eyes. “God, you're so dumb,” you finally said, and his laugh was surprised, “I can't believe it took us this long to just talk. All this goddamn time.”

“I didn't think we ever would.”

“I didn't think we had much to say. I guess I'm glad I was wrong.”

“You guess?” he repeated, and your eyes widened as you jumped to defend yourself before you saw his grin. “You really know how to make a man feel special, princess.”

“I try my best.”

He took you by the chin when he leaned in to kiss you, but this time it was clumsier than it was passionate, one smile pressed against another.

“So are we done pretending you're not a cuddler?” he whispered, and with a groan, you shoved him hard enough that he fell onto his back beside you, pulling you down with him.

————

“There's the happy couple.” Philip's family had let you sleep in late, and you didn't want to question whether it was because they'd heard you up as late as you were the night before. It was Eliza who welcomed you down to the brunch she'd made, beaming at your sleepy smiles and mussed hair. “I know you have to get on the road today, but will you linger just a bit at breakfast? It's been so long since you've been home.”

“Of course, Mom. It's good to be back.” He kissed Eliza on the head, releasing your hand as he followed her to the kitchen counter to take a plate. “We're not in any rush, are we, princess?”

“To be stuck in a car with you all evening? I'd be happy to wait.” The usual bite behind your words didn't land how it tended to, as your snark was half-hearted. He took one look at your soft smile and couldn't even tease.

“I'm sure.”

You followed suit in taking a plate from the counter, helping yourself to some eggs and fruit. When you and Philip sat, the table was uncharacteristically quiet, and you filled your glass with orange juice, taking a sip as you glanced around.

"So you two sure got a lot of sleep, huh?" Angelica was the first to speak after you sat, and when you turned to her, her smile was knowing. You pursed your lips, a grin threatening to break through when you met her eyes.

"Yeah, it's been a tiring weekend. We needed it."

"You really haven't had much time to yourselves, have you?" Alex asked. You raised an eyebrow. His voice was sincere. "I guess that's what they say about engagements. Once you're getting married, it's about everyone else as much as it is about you."

"I think we'll manage," Philip responded, resting a hand on your knee under the table. When you turned to him, he winked. "I don't think we're in any race to the finish line. Can't speak for you, princess, but I wouldn't mind taking a little time to enjoy where we're at."

"I don't disagree," you said softly before turning back to Alex. "Anyway, we've got work in the morning. We might be a little busy to wedding plan for the time being."

"But you'll get there, right?" Concern tinged Eliza's voice, and you and Philip shared a look.

"Everything in due time, right?"

"Of course," Philip said, squeezing your knee under the table. You took another sip of your orange juice to hide your smile.

“So Y/N?” It was William's small voice that piped up, making you raise your eyebrows. “When are you having a baby?” he said, and you choked on your drink. Philip patted your back as you set the glass down, coughing.

“What?”

“You said you weren't gonna have a baby until you got married. But now you're getting married, so when are you gonna have a baby?”

You took a deep breath as you looked at Philip with wide eyes. He barely seemed to register it, glancing back at you with an exasperated smile.

“We just sat down for breakfast, Will. Give Y/N some time.”

“Well I don't mean you should have a baby right now. Finish your eggs first.”

Your laugh was stunned, but it occurred to you that you should've anticipated this. Philip seemed to have.

“I think you might need to give us a good few years to finish our eggs first then, buddy. We're in no rush.”

“But I wanna be an uncle,” William argued, and Alex finally chimed in.

“Finish the first grade before you start worrying about being an uncle.” The chuckle this garnered was collective, but he did turn his eyes to you. “Congratulations, though. You two must be excited.”

“We are,” you answered before Philip could say anything, and you squeezed his hand where it sat on the table. He met your eyes, and when he turned his hand over to lace his fingers into yours, your skin tingled. “I think it's safe to say we've still got an adventure ahead of us.”

[dorkszn]

HAIRCUTS + john laurens

— suggestive content, gn reader, modern-ish au, i know this is gonna get like 2 likes 💀

The sound of keys jingling outside the door causes you to look up from your book. John had been out for a few hours, telling you how he “had a surprise for you.”

“Babe?! Sweetheart?!” He called out from behind the door. Slightly opening it so you could hear him but not see him.

“Yes, John. I’m here.” You answer, getting up from the couch and stalking over to the door.

“Alright, you ready for the surprise?” He questions.

“Yep, just waiting.” You reply, slightly smiling at his antics.

John fully opens the door and steps in, softly shutting it behind. You scan him up and down and immediately find your “surprise.” His curls cut from his shoulders to near his ears and halfway down his neck.

“Surprise, baby.” He says with his usual stupid grin on his face. You approach him and reach up to touch his hair. You were familiar with his curls, of course, many nights of hair tugging and back arching.

You run your fingers through his tufts, softly pulling on them. His hooded brown eyes fixate on your face as you admire his hair. After a few seconds, you bring your hands down to cup his face. “You like it?” John asks.

You smile and nod. “Not saying I hated your long hair or anything but I could get used to this.” You feel his cheeks grow warm in your palms.

“Yeah? You like it that much?” He hums, wrapping his hands around your waist. You move your hands from his face and wrap your arms around his neck.

“Mhm-mm.” You murmur, closing the gap between the two of you. You take in his lips and he floods your senses; the smell of his cologne hits you and his body presses against yours.

John then pulls back, taking in a few breaths. “Maybe I’ll keep it like this. You obviously love it.” He chuckles.

“I wouldn’t mind,” you snicker. “You know who’s gonna go crazy about this though?”

“Who?”

“Alexander,” you respond.

John laughs at your answer. “Not wrong when you’re right,” He sighs blissfully. “So… what else is this haircut gonna get me, Hm?” He purrs.

“Why don’t you find out?”

[formula-hamilton]

Workplace Crushes and Life Lessons (Lewis Hamilton x reader)

Lewis Hamilton x Engineer!Reader

Summary: You having a crush on Lewis and the development of said crush throughout the years working alongside him at Mercedes. 

Word count: 5.9k

Warnings: Pining, alcohol, language, awkward reader, maybe age gap? (I imagine reader being a bit younger than Lewis, but don’t think I mention it)

A/N: I love the idea of this fic bc workplace romances are some of my favorite to read. I’m always open to constructive criticism and feedback <3 Also, I don’t know anything about engineering so bear with me haha. 

-- 

2018

Imposter syndrome would properly best describe the feeling you had. You felt like the biggest con the world had ever seen and was sure that people would see right through you as soon as you stepped foot at your new job. Surely it could only be a mistake, a misunderstanding. You must have oversold yourself at the numerous interviews and soon the truth would be out. You had to do your breathing exercise in the car to calm yourself down. Fuck, you hoped no one could see you. 

You discreetly wiped your palms in your pleated trousers as you walked across the parking lot, the cold November air making you shiver. You had opted for a nicer coat which of course was not as warm as you could have wished. But first impressions were important and if you were going to disappoint, you might as well do it with style. As you entered the reception, you approached the desk and introduced yourself. 

“Hello sir, I’m meeting with Mr. Thomson. It’s my first day as a simulation and modelling engineer,” you told the receptionist. He politely asked you to take a seat while you waited. 

You sat and waited patiently in the reception trying not to fiddle too much with your clothes. Your fingers itched to pull on a small loose thread on your shirt and you had to put all your focus on one of the overhead lights to not give in. The light was too bright, you thought. It couldn’t be healthy for the eyes.

You were so concentrated on the light that you almost missed the person entering the reception and strolling through. He walked with such confidence that you couldn’t stop yourself envying him. You couldn’t help feeling disappointed when he didn’t walk past where you sat. Not that you would have done anything, you would just have liked to see him up-close. Instead you were left wondering if Lewis would be just as pretty from a closer distance. As he walked up the stairs, he turned around and gave you a small smirk. Your cheeks heated from the feeling of getting caught staring and you quickly looked to the other side, making it all the more obvious. 

--

It didn’t take long for you to confirm that yes, he was just as beautiful as you could imagine. He had such a glow over him. At the championship celebrations in December, you almost asked him what his skincare routine was. You had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from an embarrassing situation. 

It was the first time the two of you talked. The conversation couldn’t have lasted for more than two minutes, but you felt absolutely electrified. It wasn’t anything special, just introductions and him thanking you for your contribution. You laughed and told him that you had barely worked there for two months so there wasn’t much to thank you for. He laughed at your honestly and you were sure you looked like a teenage girl talking to her school crush. 

Your co-workers teased you later in the evening. Said they had never seen anyone blush so hard before. Said that you should give it some time, then it would pass, it wasn’t uncommon to be infatuated by Lewis when you first met him. He just had a way of charming people. Yeah, yeah, you said as you brushed them off, playfully rolling your eyes. 

Before you went to sleep that evening, you couldn’t help letting your hands wander and imagining they were Lewis’. 

2019

As months went by you slowly felt more comfortable in your new role. The misunderstanding was not a misunderstanding after all, and there wasn’t any hints of disappointment in your coworkers eyes. If you still struggled with feeling underqualified, you managed to hide it quite well from your coworkers and managers. Word spread in your department about you being a natural talent and a great asset to the team. Your mum always told you that it was women’s greatest flaw; not being able to believe that the work they do is sufficient enough. It was quite tiring with all the pressure you put on yourself and as your mum had told you many times before, you should go easier on yourself. 

In preparation for the 2019 season you had to work closer with Lewis and Valtteri. Setting up the simulator for them and working with their feedback. The first time you and Lewis worked together was in January. He was energetic, hungry for the new season, and you were a little overwhelmed if you were being honest. Being quite nervous working alone with him for the first time while also working just the two of you, you munched too many mini chocolate bars whilst monitoring the simulator. Your mum had stuffed your bag with them after Christmas. 

A little lost in your own thoughts, Lewis spooked you as he cleared his throat indicating he was finished. Your cheeks flushed for what felt like the 100th time that day. You kept scowling yourself for appearing so unprofessional, but you honestly couldn’t help yourself. Every time he talked or looked at you, the blood in your cheeks betrayed you and your lips couldn’t connect properly with your brain. 

“You have a little something there,” Lewis said while pointing above his own lips, indicating where it was. 

Your eyes widened and you quickly tried to brush away what you could only assume was the treacherous chocolate. You fumbled, trying to see your reflection in the computer screen to assure that you had removed it all. 

Lewis stood up and closed the space between you. “You keep missing it, let me help,” he said as he rubbed his thumb on the small space above your upper lip. “There you go,” he grinned at you, clearly noticing the effect his actions had on you. 

“Thank you sir,” you miraculously found yourself able to answer, while trying to ignore your heart beating at an unnatural speed. 

“You don’t have to call me sir, it makes me feel like an old man,” he laughed. “I told you to just call me Lewis.”

“Well, thank you Lewis then,” you nodded, wanting to appear calm and collected. Wanting him to not think of you as a helpless creature. 

He smiled at you, eyes crinkling and gap between his teeth showing. Finally, he thanked you for today and walked out. You had never felt anyone having quite this effect on you. You chose to blame it on his celebrity status. You always had a soft spot for famous people, all the way back to your Backstreet Boys obsession in your adolescence. This was no different and you were sure it would pass with time as you would get used to working with him. Admittedly, you found yourself a bit too old for having a celebrity crush, but that was no one’s business but your own. 

-- 

Months went by and Mercedes were continuing their high. It was great to be a part of and you felt pride from being able to contribute. It became a nice tradition that you and some of the other women from work would go the pub and watch the races together. You felt content, happy to be part of a group. It was nice that the women stuck together. 

Over a pub afternoon turned into a pub night, you had a beer too many and confessed how captivated you were with Lewis. They all laughed and then gave you the nickname Mrs. Hamilton. The playful banter continued for the rest of the evening and as you shared a cab home you all moaned about how fucked you were going to be for work the next day. At least you were in it together, you all agreed. 

As you woke the next morning your body was filled with regret. You definitely had three beers too many last night and the pounding headache was living proof. An ounce of shame washed over you as you remembered your drunken confession to crushing on Lewis. However, you were quick to brush it away as you told yourself that they were your friends. They wouldn’t judge you. At least that’s what you hoped. 

Tuesday, Lewis was back at the factory and ready to work in the simulator. As the two of you sat and went over some notes, Anna and Janet from the IT department spotted you and made their way over. Lewis was sitting so he was neatly hidden and it was clear that they hadn’t seen him, else they wouldn’t have disturbed you. 

“Who do we have here, if it isn’t Mrs. Hamilton herself,” Anna snickered as Janet’s eyes widened when she noticed you weren’t sitting alone. She quite noticeable pinched Anna’s arm and your mouth fell open in shock. You didn’t dare look at Lewis and instead tried to signal to Anna and Janet to fix it. Eyes begging them to do something, anything that could save the situation. 

“Sorry! Mr. Hamilton, I meant to say, I don’t know where that came from” Anna promptly corrected herself, giggling nervously. You almost wanted to roll your eyes, but honestly, what else could she say. “Well, we just wanted to congratulate you on your win Sunday. Really great job, well done, good for the team!” She continued, trying to sound cheerful, while Janet nodded, wanting to look convincing. 

Lewis looked taken aback, clearly not used to people interrupting him for small talk while working. “Thank you very much. That’s very kind of you,” he smiled politely at them. You let go of a breath you hadn’t even noticed you were holding in. Realistically you knew Lewis wasn’t stupid, but you still told yourself that you had gotten away unescaped, your secret still hidden. 

As they finally left, scrambling away while quietly giggling, you carefully looked at Lewis who was already looking at you. 

“Are they your friends?” He asked. As you hurriedly looked at your computer, you missed the way his lips formed into a small smirk. 

“What? Those two? No, I’ve barely talked to them before,” you lied, trying to remember where you left off, wanting to get this meeting over with as soon as possible. He hummed and nodded, not wanting to do further damage. 

After Lewis left you almost ran to Anna and Janet’s department to give them a good old scowl, but as you were just getting into it, you all doubled over laughing. Tears streaming down your faces, some from embarrassment and some from the sheer absurdity of the situation. Hopefully Lewis hadn’t given the whole interaction a second thought.  

--

Once again Mercedes won the Constructor’s and Lewis won the Driver’s Championship, and once again everybody’s spirits were high at the celebrations in December. Lewis and Valtteri made their obligatory rounds, thanking people, showing gratitude, making small talk. You were pouring yourself another glass of champagne, quietly lost in your own thoughts, enjoying the buzz from the alcohol. You were wearing a long dark blue satin dress that hugged just the right places on your body, showing off your cleavage, while not being too flashy for a work event. 

As you were walking through the crowd, wanting to rejoin the group of people you previously talked to, you felt a small pull on your arm. Turning around, Lewis stood grinning at you, handsome as always. 

“I guess I can actually thank you this year. Finally,” he cheekily said to you. You were surprised he even remembered your interaction from the year before, but once again it showed you just what kind of man he was. Always so considerate and thankful to the people he worked with. 

“Well you’re welcome Lewis. And once again, congrats on the championship! It’s been a pleasure working with you,” you smiled at him, feeling the champagne giving you a bit more confidence than usual. “Any exciting plans for the break?”

“You know the usual, Christmas with the family and catching up with friends, relaxing. I’m also going skiing, gotta keep myself active,” he laughed, seemingly very excited for his winter plans. “What are your Christmas plans?”

“I’m going to my parents’ for a few days and then after Christmas I’m actually going on a small vacation to Morocco. Hopefully get a little tan,” you smiled while playfully flicking your hair over your shoulder. “Me and England are not vibing in the winter.”

You didn’t miss Lewis’ gaze dropping to your breasts at your movement and just as quickly looking back at your eyes again. “Ah that sound nice, with your boyfriend or?” He asked, hoping to sound casual. You furrowed your brows a little, surely he was just making small talk. 

“Actually I’m going alone, just trying to de-stress and refuel for next year. Hopefully I’ll find a boyfriend though,” you laughed again. “Maybe that’ll help me relax a little.” Maybe it was a bit inappropriate talking to Lewis like this, but once again the alcohol made you a little more bold and a little more careless. You decided it was fine as Lewis rolled his head back and laughed at your honesty. You felt a small smirk creeping up on your lips, satisfied with yourself for making him laugh. 

“Well I hope you enjoy yourself and good luck on the de-stressing,” he said, giving you a little wink, before continuing his way through the people. 

2020

Morocco had been amazing. No potential suitors, but a whole lot of swimming in the pool and meditation. You had also picked up a small hobby, that being an almost obsessive need to check Lewis’ Instagram several times a day. You told yourself it helped the de-stressing process. The shirtless pictures certainty did their job and you thanked god for Lewis being so active on Instagram. It made your life a bit more fun. 

When you finally had to go back to work in the beginning of January you felt comfortable and most importantly, confident. You had finally grown to feel more at ease in the job and felt like you were contributing with some valuable input. 

A couple of weeks passed and Lewis and you had a day together in the simulator to prepare the car for the 2020 season. For once, you were running a few minutes late and when you entered the room, Lewis was already sat waiting for you. You apologized and Lewis brushed it off, smiling, telling you it was fine. 

“Good vacation?” He asked you. 

“Yeah amazing, much needed,” you replied while setting up your work.

“Did you find a man?” He asked, wiggling his brows, grinning teasingly at you.

“Nah, unfortunately,” you laughed. “But I did meditate a lot, it was quite amazing actually. I feel very de-stressed. Ah let me show you, I feel like this is something you would enjoy.” You pulled up your phone wanting to show him the Instagram of your meditation instructor. Lewis looked over your shoulder and as you went to search for the username, you wanted to hit your head down on the table. Your previous searches were obviously showing and at the top was Lewis’ account. 

You fumbled with your phone and quickly typed to make it disappear but deep down you knew it was too late. He had already seen it. You both chose to pretend it hadn’t happened and Lewis found himself smirking once again, as he had done so many times before in your company. He was quite captivated by your lack of smoothness and found you very charming if he was being honest. He wasn’t blind to your small crush on him, but he chose to just act normal with you, not wanting to initiate anything he couldn’t commit to. Of course he couldn’t stop himself from being flirty every now and again though. He was only human after all and how could he not when talking to a beautiful woman?

You wondered to yourself how it was possible for you to keep having these embarrassing moments in front of him. It felt like a curse. 

--

That day was the last time you saw Lewis in many months. Covid struck, everyone was in quarantine and everyone did as much work from home as they could. When the F1 season finally began in July, you were extra excited for the first race. This time a guy you were seeing named Peter, was going to join you at your place. Peter was a friend of a friend whom you had met a few times throughout the years and when he asked you if you wanted to go on a date, you couldn’t see a reason not to. One date turned to many and suddenly you found yourself in a loving relationship. He made you incredibly happy and finally your crush on Lewis had seemingly passed.

Peter was quite the McLaren fan and you were obviously a fan of Mercedes, more specifically Lewis, so the two of you had many great discussions and playful fights about who was the better team. He was tired of the Mercedes dominance and you jokingly claimed that the other teams should just find an engineer as great as you and then their problems would be solved. 

More months passed and in the fall you finally saw Lewis again. Facemasks and distance making everything a bit awkward, but you managed. His spirits were high, everything going his way and it was obvious that he needed a big amount of misfortune for him to not win his seventh title. It was quite clear to both you that you probably wouldn’t see each other again until next year so as you said goodbye, you both wished each other well and gave each other way too early Christmas greetings

The warm, fuzzy feeling he always managed to give you was back. And this time it was even stronger than usual. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, you thought to yourself. Again, you felt silly for having these thoughts and feelings about him, but you simply couldn’t help yourself.

2021

Christmas and New Year’s had been great with Peter by your side for both. Everything had been just great until Sunday the 3rd of January. As you were staying at Peter’s for the night, his phone rang while you were in bed waiting for him as he got ready for bed. He called for you to just pick it up and as you did, everything fell apart.

Monday you called in sick for work. You weren’t in a mental state where working was possible and instead you spent the day on the sofa sobbing your eyes out. In the evening your mum came with dinner and tried to make you feel better. Telling you Peter was a fool and that she never even liked him anyway.

On that Monday, Lewis visited the factory to get his seat fitted and while he was at it, he thought he would swing by your workstation to say hi. He hadn’t seen you in three months and he couldn’t help missing talking to you. When he found out you were sick, he got a inexplicable feeling. You were never sick and at the end of the day, he left with furrowed brows, feeling worried about you. 

When the next day rolled around, Lewis was back again, this time for a simulator session with you and a meeting with some engineers. He hadn’t stopped thinking about you since yesterday. Truthfully he missed working with you and seeing your flushed cheeks and nervous laughs, but he knew it wasn’t appropriate. He had always been good at separating work and pleasure, but suddenly he felt an urge to blur the lines. He knew he was strong and he was sure he could keep it under wraps and control his feelings. He had to. 

Lewis sat by the simulator waiting for you. He briefly checked his phone to make sure he hadn’t gotten the time wrong and as time went by, he got more and more anxious about you. Finally, the door opened and you hurriedly walked over to him, apologizing profusely for your lateness. You were almost 20 minutes late and Lewis couldn’t help noticing your red rimmed eyes and red nose as you prepared your set-up. He slowly took in your appearance with furrowed eyebrows and observed your make-up free face and seemingly quickly thrown on outfit. If there was one thing Lewis had spotted since seeing you the time in the reception on your first day, it was your sense of fashion. You were always dressed incredibly well and clearly had a great sense of what suited you. Today you looked like a mess. Of course Lewis didn’t mind, but it was just so unlike your normal appearance that he couldn’t help himself putting his hand on your shoulder to interrupt your quick motions. 

“Are you alright?” he softly asked, hoping he wasn’t overstepping. He felt like the two of you had a great working relationship and hoped you felt comfortable enough with him to open up. It was obvious that you had been crying quite recently, maybe even within the last 30 minutes. 

“Yeah. I’m sorry, I’ve just not been feeling so great these days, must’ve caught a stomach bug or something. Just been a little out of myself, you know,” you assured, not wanting to burden Lewis. You already felt bad for making him wait, but the tears would simply not stop as you sat in the parking lot trying to pull yourself together. 

“I don’t wanna intrude, but I feel like there’s something going on?” Lewis didn’t believe you. Your coworkers had said you were sick with a migraine and now you were contradicting them. “You know you can talk to me right? I’m always here to listen.” 

Tears welled in your eyes once again, the gentleness of Lewis’ voice making you bottom lip wobble. You looked at the ceiling, blinking, trying to stop the tears from escaping. You took a deep breath, looking down, avoiding Lewis’ searching eyes. 

“I- I just. Me and my boyfriend broke up Sunday, so it’s just been some rough days for me. But don’t worry it won’t affect my work,” you told Lewis, wanting to make sure he knew that you wouldn’t waste his time. It took everything in you hold the dam together. 

Lewis reached out once again, rubbing your arm, trying to soothe you. He clearly saw your glossy eyes and he felt awful for you, wishing he could take your pain away. He was surprised to hear that you had had a boyfriend, but then again, he had barely talked to you for a year, so it shouldn’t have been a big shock. He did everything he could to brush the nagging feeling in his stomach away. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear,” Lewis said, giving you a tight lipped smile. His mind was running even faster than his car and he was at a loss of words. He always knew what to say, media training doing wonders, but now he couldn’t think of anything to comfort you. He felt like an asshole, making you confess what was wrong and then not having anything to say.

“Don’t be,” you quickly interrupted his thought process. “He clearly had other priorities. More specifically named Olivia,” you somberly laughed, discreetly brushing away a stray tear. Lewis’ body filled with anger, asking himself how anyone could cheat on a person like you. Suddenly he was able to find the words. 

“What an asshole! I guarantee you’re much better off without him. I’m so sorry you had to start the year like this. You know, we don’t have to do this today if it’s too much for you? Maybe you should take another day off?” He suggested, wanting to wrap his arms around you, make you feel better. You smiled kindly at him, touched by his sympathy.

“Thank you, but it’s okay Lewis. I think it’s good for me to keep my mind occupied, keep myself busy,” you told him, looking him in the eyes, being met with his compassionate gaze. You instantly felt more at ease. 

“Yeah okay. Just say the word if you need a break or anything. Or if you wanna talk. I’m a great listener, at least my sisters always tells me,” he smiled at you. You returned his smile and thanked him, but hastily continued setting up the computer, not wanting to talk more about your feelings. You already felt like you had acted inappropriately telling Lewis about Peter’s infidelity. Fortunately, Lewis caught on to your intentions, and he quickly switched over to talk about work, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. 

For the next couple of months, before the first race, you and Lewis saw a lot of each other. It was great working together again and you both really came to appreciate your working relationship even more. Admittedly, his company also helped you get over Peter a lot faster than you thought possible. You began to feel like it was getting a little out of hand how much Lewis consumed your mind. 

After a long day of back and forth, trying to find ways to improve the aerodynamics, you and Lewis found yourself sat in comfortable silence. Lewis sat scrolling Instagram when suddenly he felt your eyes drill holes into the side of his head. He glanced at you, wondering what was going through your mind. You didn’t notice you’d gotten caught, completely lost in thoughts about the handsome man sitting in front of you. Suddenly you snapped out of it and before you stop yourself, words left your mouth. 

“What skincare do you use?” Your face instantly grimaced for letting your intrusive thoughts take over. 

“What?” Lewis laughed nervously, looking at your flushed face. 

“Err, I’ve just been wondering what skincare you use? Your face always looks so glowy and I feel like you age backwards,” you tried to explain yourself, internally rolling your eyes at your own words. 

Now, Lewis laughed loudly, finding your nervous look extremely endearing. “Why, thank you,” he said while smiling. “Honestly, I think my vegan diet is the reason. My skin really cleared up after I made the switch. I don’t really have a miracle product.”

“Ah that makes sense. That’s a nice bonus effect,” you replied, nodding. You were quick to find something to busy yourself with, not wanting to inflict further damage by letting more words leave your mouth. While you weren’t looking, Lewis shook his head and smirked to himself. He wanted to tell you to not worry about what you said in front of him, but he bit his tongue. 

--

Abu Dhabi was awful. You and the girls had of course been out drinking in a pub while watching the race. Everything looked so promising, people cheering for Lewis, being sure that he would get his 8th title. Then everything turned, it felt like a bad joke, none of you were able to understand what the hell was going on. It was absolutely heartbreaking. Your heart hurt from seeing Lewis hug his dad, you couldn’t begin to imagine what he must be feeling. 

This year Lewis was absent from the December celebrations. Truthfully, you hadn’t expected to see him there, but a part of you still hoped he would show up. You wanted to see if he was okay, tell him that he was the rightful champion in your eyes. The celebrations were not as fun as usual. Of course people were happy for the Constructor’s Championship, but it didn’t feel right celebrating when Lewis lost. You felt bad for Valtteri, his goodbyes being overshadowed by the foul play.

2022

You finally saw Lewis again the third week of January. You had religiously checked his Instagram since Abu Dhabi, but he had been completely off the grid. You hadn’t been able to get him out of your head since, almost scared to never see him again. There had been so much talk about him retiring and you wouldn’t have blamed him if he did. For completely selfish reasons, you hoped he wouldn’t, you wanted to keep seeing him, missing the butterflies you felt every time you had the pleasure of enjoying his company.  

You almost felt like it was your first time meeting him, nervousness filling your body, scared to say or do something wrong. Scared to upset him. He made his rounds, greeting people, thanking them for their work last year. When Lewis finally got to you, he felt a sense of calmness wash over him. He believed you when you told him how sorry you were for last year and how much you thought he deserved to win. When everyone else uttered the same words, he was thankful, but had also grown tired of them. He realized he could never grow tired of your words, your sincereness touching him deeply. 

--

This year, Lewis spend more hours in the simulator than ever before. Eager to get on top of the god awful car. You thought it was so unfair how shitty the season was going, he didn’t deserve this. You almost wanted to apologize personally for having a part in the engineering process. 

On a sunny day in September, you and Anna found yourself partaking in the daily dose of gossip in the bathrooms.

“Have you seen your husband’s latest thirst trap?” Anna asked, wiggling her eyebrows. The girls never let up on the whole Mrs. Hamilton thing, although they were always more careful now. 

“Shut up, no! When did he post it?” You asked a little too excitedly, quickly grabbing your phone and finding his Instagram. 

“Oh. My. God,” you exclaimed, mouth dropping open for dramatic effect. “It should be illegal being so hot, look at those tattoos!” Anna laughed at your actions.

“I’m surprised you hadn’t already seen it, I know how much of a stalker you are,” she teased you. You playfully rolled your eyes, smiling because you knew she was right. 

“Yeah, yeah, some of us have work to do you know?” You answered her, laughing. As you were brushing your fingers through your hair, a toilet flushed in one of the stalls. You and Anna glanced fearfully at each other through the mirror, you swore you were alone, always careful to check if there were other people in the stalls before your gossip sessions. 

Out of the stall emerged a content looking Lewis. You on the other hand were at a loss of words, wanting the ground to swallow you up wholly. 

“Afternoon, ladies,” he greeted, smiling at the two of you as he stood by the sinks washing his hands. Anna smiled at him, as you stood locked in place, staring at your shoes. When Lewis was finished he walked out, a big smirk on his face, almost wanting to laugh at your words. 

“I didn’t know he was even here today? Did you know?” You whisper shouted when you were finally alone again.

“No, I had no idea,” Anna answered, sympathetically rubbing your arm, trying to soothe your clear anxiousness. “Don’t worry, he probably didn’t hear us.”

As you stood there with a face more flushed than ever before, you swore you could cry. There was no coming back from this, you thought. 

--

You didn’t see Lewis for the rest of that day, or for the next two months for that matter. The longer you didn’t see him, the more the anxiousness consumed you. You wanted to clear the air, apologize for being so inappropriate. It was not right to talk about him like you had that day, especially not at work. 

In November, just before Brazil, you finally saw him again. You had practiced for months what you wanted to say to him. You had even promised yourself that you would find another job if it didn’t go well, not thinking you were able to handle seeing him again if he was offended. 

What you hadn’t expected was Lewis’ thoughts being consumed by you as well for these past months. This difficult year had taught him many things, most importantly it had taught him that there were things in life more important than winning a trophy or a championship. He always told himself that he didn’t want anything serious until his retirement, but as the months had passed, he realized how stupid that idea was. Why shouldn’t he be able do both? Many before him had been able to do both love and racing and just because it hadn’t worked out with Nicole, didn’t mean it couldn’t ever work. 

That’s why he had clear intentions when he visited the factory in November. He had a meeting with you later in the day and he had practiced what he wanted to say to you. He felt like a teenager, sweaty hands and everything.

The thing about plans is that they rarely go how you have anticipated. As you were walking back from the kitchenette, having fetched yourself some snacks, you suddenly bumped into something hard. That being Lewis’ chest. His hands grabbed you before you stumbled back and fell. You were fumbling with your words, wanting to apologize for walking into him and also wanting to apologize for the day in the bathroom months prior. As you struggled with what to say, your cheeks heated and Lewis took the word, ditching his own practiced speech.

“When are you gonna do something about this crush?” Lewis asked, grinning big, gap between his teeth more visible than ever. You looked like a deer caught in headlights, mouth open and big eyes. 

“I-“ you began, trying to think of what to say. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I asked, when are you gonna do something about the crush you have on me?” Lewis continued, looking at you with teasing eyes. “I mean, it has been going on for quite some time now, don’t you think you should do something about it?”  

Your eyes narrowed, trying to figure out if this was a joke or what the fuck was going on. As your eyes met Lewis’ your saw nothing but kindness and quickly decided which path you should chose.

“Well, do you want me to something about it Lewis?” You asked, smirking, tilting your head to the side. “Because I can arrange something if that’s what you’d like?”

Lewis smiled at your words, happy you caught on to his idea. “Yeah, I think I’d quite like you to do something about it. I can tell you more about my ideas over dinner if you’d like that?” He asked you, feeling a little scared of being rejected even though he had been quite sure you would accept his invitation. 

You beamed at him, eyes shining and teeth showing, nodding your head. “I would love that Lewis,” you smiled, unable to believe this was truly happening. Lewis beamed as well, truly happy about this. He hastily looked around and assured you were alone in the hallway, before he grabbed your hand and pulled you into his chest. Now standing chest to chest, he cupped your cheeks and looked you in the eyes, searching for any signs of discomfort. When he didn’t find any, he closed his eyes and closed the gap between the two of you, your lips fitting his perfectly. Your hands found his hair, gently massaging his scalp as the kiss deepened. Both aware of your surroundings, you pulled back at the same time before things escalated, eyes locking and cheeks warm.  

Fuck a championship when he had a beautiful woman looking at him like you did, Lewis thought to himself. 

[the-hamilton-files-author]

PLEASE DROP CHAPTER 33 DONT LEAVE US please

Awww thanks so much I actually just started working on it last night 😁

[ofmonticello]

the problem with ilc being almost done (kinda) is that now all i can think about is planning out another au...uh oh

[maicenaconmate]

-Not me

Please, if you share it add the drabble situation 🙏