Hamilton One shots and Stuffs

Philip x Reader

Written in like half an hour max, short and shitty but idc. Vote if you want, helps me out, helps others find this shit, but you don't have to if you want like it. I wont be mad I pinky promise

Life is simple. You're born, you grow up, fall in love, have kids, pay taxes, and die.

Currently, I am stuck on step 3. I've gone on dates, talked for hours with guys, only for it to lead no where, and have been stood up one too many times.

It sucks, it really does.

Nothing would bring me more joy than to explain to my co-workers I am in a loving relationship and not lie. But everyday I come home from my boring fucking job, and feed my cats. Day in, and day out. The same shit.

Until he came into my life.

As I waited for my order to be called, listening in on what other people order, in came Mr. Head full of curls walked in.

After ordering something far too sweet for something so early, he joined me at the counter, waiting for his own drink to be ready. Mine was done first, but our of interest, I lingered at the bar.

He was the first to speak, a simple hi, and a smile.

Too early for suck things, I only gave him a small smile, and a greeting. Pleasantries could come when I was more awake.

The next time I saw him was a week later. Strangely, at the office. A new hiree, I saw told, and transferred to our department from corporate. It didn't matter much to me, as I was a receptionist, and had no business in knowing the workings of telecommunications and software development. But I guess I had to learn some things to fall in love.

Philip, as I was told he was called, was a backend tech coder, and software engineer. I had little clue what either of those jobs entailed, despite working in next to the field for years.

Weeks of chatting at the front desk later, I learned his title was fancy talk for "making sure there are no errors in the shit that makes the game work." I laughed everytime he tried to explain, and eventually he dumbed it down.

One day, while ranting about how I was stood up for a tinder date, Philip asked me if I wanted to go on a date. Surprised, I said that it would be weird, as we worked together.

The afternoon, after we had gotten off for work, he asked me again, because "we no longer work together."

I told him yes.

Four years later, I told him yes again.

Finally completing stage 3 of life, it was time to move on to the next, which proved even harder.

Philip and I tried for years to have a child, and each time brought little success.

It took another seven years for a positive pregnancy test. And, nine months later, we welcomed our curly haired daughter into the world. She looked like her father, with her freckled cheeks and dark coils. I loved her. My cat didn't.

Stage 5 is taxes, which really is a misnomer, since you constantly pay taxes.

My first bush with stage 6 is when said cat passed. Our daughter was 3.

The next brush was Philip. Our daughter was 11.

He had to be reseitated 4 times, each worse hearbreaking than the last. I thought I would lose the love of my life. My curly haired boy, who loves sweet coffee.

Philip lived another 40 years. We would learn todance, get a new cat, have a second child, and but a house in that time. Our grandson was turning 8.

I still miss his smiles and smirks, his quips and our little bits, and his laugh.

Never once did he fail to make me feel like the happiest person ever.