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benjamlntallmadge · 7 years ago

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What Could Have Been

Summary: When Ben comes back to Setauket to save his father and the rest of the people that are to be hanged, he sees something he didn’t expect.

Pairing: Benjamin Tallmadge x reader

Word Count: 855

Warnings: Angst

A/N: I am 1000% sure that Ben’s characterization is completely off, but I really wanted to write this, so here we are!! This takes place in the season finale of season one, The Battle of Setauket.

The mud slowly stained the bottom of your navy blue skirt, crusting at the edges as you slowly rocked from right to left. A smile graced your feature as you talked to Mary, a rosy pink tint having seemingly made its home on the apples of your cheeks. You beamed when Thomas finally took notice of your figure, having previously been playing with the wheel of the wagon.

You crouched down in order to pick him up, placing him on your hip as you looked down at him. “My Thomas, you’ve grown since I last saw you!” You exclaimed, turning to Mary who wore a smile. “I must beg of you to come around more often. Otherwise, this little guy might forget who his favorite aunt is.” You said as you tickled Thomas’s side lightly, placing him back down.

Without warning, men armed started running around, rounding up everyone. You looked around in confusion, unsure of what was happening. People screamed, the terror of being under attack running through their body, while someone near you yelled ‘rebels’. Mary was quick to pick up Thomas, holding him tightly to her and looking down at him, telling him it was okay. You grabbed her arm tightly and pulled her with you, worry and fear etched into your face when some of them pointed the muskets at the three of you and yelled to get into the tavern.

That’s when you caught sight of him, clad in his blue uniform and hat tucked under his arm, and your breath was knocked out of your body. Every fiber of your being suddenly longed to be with him, to wrap your arms around him and whisper sweet nothings as if it had only been the very morning that you had last seen each other.

But it hadn’t been this morning. It had been months, months that you’ve lost count of. So instead, you looked away, focusing your direction on the armed men that surrounded you and the rest of the town people. And you prayed that he wouldn’t see you because then it would mean that he would know that you didn’t wait, that it wasn’t possible for you to wait for him.

Yet, praying didn’t help your case and you cursed to the high heavens under your breath when his blue eyes caught yours. Recognition flashed through them, scanning your face and trying to memorize every curve and line that made your face, wanting a fresh and new image and not the one of the woman that had tears in her eyes on the morning of his departure to enlist. When it seemed like he had done just that, he finally took your whole appearance and you turned your head away, placing a hand instinctively on the rather large bump that was your stomach, hoping it would by some miracle hide it. But he saw it and knew exactly what it meant.

You didn’t hear when Caleb came into the tavern, explaining the situation to Ben, too focused on looking at a pair of shoes that had suddenly become interesting. Memories of the last time you saw him flashed through your mind, ones that were filled with light touches and desperate, tender kisses.

“Miss Y/L, come accompany us as an insurance that no one will do anything.” Ben’s voice rang out, a certain coldness to it that was used in order to mask his hurt.

“It is now Mrs. Sawford.” You said, matching his tone as you got up from the seat, hand on your stomach and following him to the cellar.

And the both of you stood there, looking at each other, not saying anything. Finally, after what seemed like hours, he opened his mouth to say something, but you were quick to cut him off.

“I tried Ben.” For the umpteenth time that day, you cursed silently, your voice having cracked at the end. “But my father’s health was declining drastically by the day and he begged me to get married and give him a grandchild before he died.”

“Y/N,” he wrapped his arms around you and looked down at you, “I don’t blame you. It was selfish to think that a woman as beautiful as yourself wouldn’t have men lined up to marry you. How long?”

You knew what he was asking, the silent hope of the smallest of possibilities that the child growing inside you was his and not your husband’s very much present in his voice.

You looked away from him and he immediately knew the answer to his question, holding you tighter against him. Though you had been pregnant for several months now, six to be exact, realization finally hit you like a ton of bricks, your shoulders suddenly becoming shoulder. The realization that you could never be happy with him ever again. That you could never start a family with him like you had once imagined.

And Ben seemed to realize this too, because he pulled away slightly, placing a tentative kiss upon your lips, thumb rubbing circles on your cheek. “It’s okay, you waited as long as you could.”

#ben tallmadge #ben tallmadge x reader #turn #turn x reader #turn: washington's spies #benjamin tallmadge #benjamin tallmadge x reader #turn amc #turn washington's spies #im sorry #this must be really bad

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benjamlntallmadge · 7 years ago

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The Messenger

Summary: Reader goes off to the Continental Army camp with an important message and reunites with Alexander.

Pairing: Alexander x reader

Word Count: 1,222

Warnings: A couple of cuss words, time period sexism, writing that progressively gets worse

A/N: Ahhhh, I’m so excited and nervous since this is my very first time writing for Hamilton. The version of Alexander used in this story is from Hamilton. Hope you guys enjoy it!!

The air smelled of petrichor, pine, and the stench that only a group of men who haven’t showered in weeks could produce, mixed with alcohol. Though these said group of men had long since left the area, the smell lingered throughout the woods. With the sun beating harshly against your skin, beads forming on your forehead and the wind hitting your face, hair slipping from the bun it had been in and flowing in the wind, you gripped the reins tighter, knuckles turning white. Face scrunched into determination, you allowed your body to starve itself of the much-needed sleep and rest that it needed, if only until you reached your destination.

You had been riding since the first rays of the sun had managed to pierce the dark purple sky. On a different day, you would have gladly stayed in bed for a few more hours, wrapped in blankets, or stopped to admire the way that the sky blossomed with hues of pink, orange, and yellow but every second you wasted, the possibility of hundreds of people dying became greater.

It had been months since you had been recruited by the continental army to become a spy for them, or rather, months since you volunteered. Though the position of a soldier would have better suited you, it would have demanded that you disguise yourself as a man, something you would have done if it weren’t for the fear of being discovered. So instead, you settled with prying information from the British men when their minds were foggy with alcohol and infatuation.

A daughter of a tory did have such opportunities at her disposal, especially when your father and the British generals insisted that they should have a party at least every week, minds convinced with the thoughts of victory of the king and the defeat of the colonies. You did what any sensible woman with the thirst of seeing her country rise would do and you got off of your arse and walked to the men who donned their red uniform with pride. You would flutter your eyelashes, giggle at any joke they made, and inquire about plans, allowing their egos to visibly inflate as they bragged, believing that you didn’t understand anything that they were saying because you were a woman.

Last night, in the middle of the party, one of the generals toasted to the king and boasted that in three days time, the colonies would have been defeated by Britain's very best men. You had talked to the very same general later before leaving, claiming to be feeling sick.

You could see that the forest was thinning, and the end of it was near, marked by the sudden sight of a plethora of white — turning a light yellow — tents. Flicking the reins, you chose to ignore the screams of some of the men who ordered you to stop as you rode through the camp, heading straight for the middle of the camp. It wasn’t until a man had stepped in front of your path, musket pointed directly at you, did you stop, pulling the reins back and holding them tightly as you were nearly thrown off of the horse.

“Dismount the horse, ma’am.” The man yelled, glaring at you.

Furiously, you were whipping your head left and right, trying to find a face that you recognized. “I need to see the general.” You announced, not even glancing down at the man.

“Off of the horse.” He said louder this time, anger seeping into his words. By this time, a small group of men had started to form around you, each one pointing a musket at you like the first man.

Relief washed over you when you saw a somewhat short man walking with a much taller man, his dark hair pulled into a low ponytail. “Alexander!” You screamed, capturing his attention when he turned around at the sound of his name.

Though you were quite a large distance apart, you could still see the way that his brown eyes were suddenly alight with recognition and the way that his expression, which was previously in a serious, turned into a mixture of love, surprise, and excitement, all in one.

It only lasted a couple of seconds, quickly turning sour when the man standing in front of you once again yelled at you. Alexander began walking towards you, eyes on the man.

“Lee, what the hell? Do you know who this is?” Alexander questioned the man, Lee, with coldness, voice hinting disgust in the edges.

Lee scoffed and began to lower his musket, glaring at the both of you. “Of course the woman who rode into camp like a mongol knows you.” He spat, using the word ‘woman’ as if it were an insult.

Before Alexander could say anything back to him, you said his name, warning in your tone as you started to dismount, leg swinging off of the horse and jumping to the ground. He mumbled something along the lines of ��right’ and placed a hand on the small of your back, leading you to a large tent, looking back and giving Lee a deathly look.

-🌻-🌻-🌻-🌻-🌻-🌻-

You laid on a cot, a blanket draped over your body, trying to keep warm as the chilly air bit any exposed skin. One arm was nestled under your head while the other one drew soft patterns on Alexander’s cheek. You watched closely as his eyes fluttered closed when you pressed your lips against his jaw.

It had been hours since you had arrived at camp with information for the general. You had explained what the British general had told you, having written everything so you wouldn’t forget the moment that you had left the party. Within minutes of you finishing, General Washington had told Alexander to write to the group of men that had been sent out earlier in the week to change directions, the latter man writing like there was no tomorrow, trying to finish up the letter as soon as possible. You were given a smile of gratitude from the general that would usually wear a serious expression before being lead to Alexander’s tent to rest from your long ride.

You basked in the peace that was in the air, one that only surrounded the two of you in a bubble. There were few moments like these that you had with your dearest Alexander, with him being the aid-de-camp of Washington and you residing with your tory parents whilst being a spy left very little time for the two of you.

Placing your hand against his chest, you gave a small sigh. “I must leave tomorrow in the morning.” You mumbled quietly, fearing the words would shatter the small world that engulfed the two of you. They did. “My father will have a fit if he finds out that I wasn’t actually visiting my sister.” Alexander hummed in response, the motion causing his chest to rumble against your head slightly.

He opened his eyes, brown orbs looking down at you. “Y/n, when the war is over and we win, I want to formally ask your father’s permission to court you.”

You grinned, kissing him gently in response before pulling away slightly, nose brushing against each other while you looked into his eyes. “I’d love that Alexander.”

#hamilton #alexander hamilton #hamilton x reader #alexander hamilton x reader

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