#Hamilton x reader

[writing-with-yours-truly]

"To my dearest"- John Laurens [Hamilton] x Reader

Warnings: Angst.

No use of Y/N

𝕸𝖞 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖙,

𝕴'𝖒 𝖘𝖔 𝖕𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖊𝖉 𝖙𝖔 𝖎𝖓𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖒 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝕴 𝖒𝖆𝖞 𝖇𝖊 𝖍𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖘𝖔𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖓 𝕴 𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖌𝖎𝖓𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖞 𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙. 𝕲𝖊𝖓𝖊𝖗𝖆𝖑 𝖂𝖆𝖘𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖙𝖔𝖓 𝖍𝖆𝖘 𝖇𝖊𝖊𝖓 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖆𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖆𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖙 𝖍𝖔𝖜 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖞 𝖇𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖆𝖘𝖙 𝖇𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖑𝖊 𝖜𝖊 𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖍𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖋𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙. 𝕿𝖍𝖊𝖓, 𝖜𝖊 𝖘𝖍𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖌𝖊𝖙 𝖙𝖔 𝖘𝖊𝖊 𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖋𝖆𝖒𝖎𝖑𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖔𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖊. 𝕴 𝖆𝖒 𝖘𝖔 𝖊𝖈𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖈 𝖙𝖔 𝖘𝖊𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖔𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝖆𝖌𝖆𝖎𝖓. 𝕿𝖔 𝖍𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖎𝖓 𝖒𝖞 𝖆𝖗𝖒𝖘 𝖆𝖋𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖇𝖊𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖆𝖜𝖆𝖞 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖘𝖔 𝖑𝖔𝖓𝖌. 𝕳𝖔𝖜 𝖎𝖘 𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖋𝖆𝖒𝖎𝖑𝖞? 𝕳𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖈𝖐𝖊𝖉 𝖚𝖕 𝖔𝖓 𝖒𝖞 𝖋𝖆𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖒𝖊? 𝕴 𝖍𝖔𝖕𝖊 𝖍𝖊 𝖎𝖘 𝖉𝖔𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖆𝖑𝖗𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙. 𝕬𝖓𝖞𝖜𝖆𝖞𝖘, 𝕴 𝖒𝖚𝖘𝖙 𝖌𝖊𝖙 𝖌𝖔𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖓𝖔𝖜, 𝖆𝖘 𝖜𝖊 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖇𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖑𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖓𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 -𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖑𝖎𝖛𝖊𝖘-. 𝕴 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖘𝖔 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖑𝖞, 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖈𝖆𝖓𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖜𝖆𝖎𝖙 𝖙𝖔 𝖘𝖊𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖘𝖔𝖔𝖓.

𝖄𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖙,

𝕵𝖔𝖍𝖓 𝕷𝖆𝖚𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖘

-------

𝓜𝓻𝓼. 𝓛𝓪𝓾𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓼,

𝓘 𝓻𝓮𝓰𝓻𝓮𝓽 𝓽𝓸 𝓲𝓷𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓶 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓱𝓾𝓼𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓭, 𝓙𝓸𝓱𝓷 𝓛𝓪𝓾𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓼 𝔀𝓪𝓼 𝓴𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓮𝓭 𝓲𝓷 𝓪 𝓰𝓾𝓷𝓯𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝓪𝓰𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓼𝓽 𝓑𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓲𝓼𝓱 𝓽𝓻𝓸𝓸𝓹𝓼 𝓸𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓡𝓲𝓿𝓮𝓻. 𝓗𝓮 𝔀𝓪𝓼 𝓪 𝓿𝓮𝓻𝔂 𝓫𝓻𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓪𝓷𝓽 𝓶𝓪𝓷, 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾 -𝓪𝓼 𝔀𝓮𝓵𝓵 𝓪𝓼 𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓯𝓪𝓶𝓲𝓵𝔂- 𝓿𝓮𝓻𝔂 𝓭𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓵𝔂. 𝓗𝓮 𝓱𝓪𝓭 𝓸𝓷𝓮 𝓵𝓪𝓼𝓽 𝓵𝓮𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓱𝓮 𝔀𝓪𝓼 𝓰𝓸𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓸 𝓼𝓮𝓷𝓭 𝓽𝓸 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓫𝓮𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓱𝓮 𝓻𝓮𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓱𝓸𝓶𝓮, 𝓫𝓾𝓽 𝓲𝓽 𝔀𝓪𝓼 𝓷𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝓼𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓸𝓾𝓽. 𝓘𝓽 𝓲𝓼 𝓪𝓽𝓽𝓪𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓭 𝓸𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓷𝓮𝔁𝓽 𝓹𝓪𝓰𝓮. 𝓘 𝓼𝓮𝓷𝓭 𝓶𝔂 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓭𝓸𝓵𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓮𝓼.

𝓦𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮,

𝓟𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓲𝓭𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓖𝓮𝓸𝓻𝓰𝓮 𝓦𝓪𝓼𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓽𝓸𝓷

----

𝕸𝖞 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖙,

𝖂𝖊 𝖍𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖜𝖔𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖜𝖆𝖗! 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖇𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖑𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖄𝖔𝖗𝖐𝖙𝖔𝖜𝖓 𝖎𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖆𝖘𝖙 𝖇𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖑𝖊! 𝕳𝖚𝖗𝖗𝖆𝖞! 𝕴 𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖘𝖔𝖔𝖓 𝖇𝖊 𝖍𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖇𝖊𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖎𝖋𝖚𝖑 𝖋𝖆𝖒𝖎𝖑𝖞. 𝕴 𝖈𝖆𝖓𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖜𝖆𝖎𝖙 𝖙𝖔 𝖇𝖊 𝖍𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖊𝖆𝖙 𝖘𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖉𝖊𝖑𝖎𝖈𝖎𝖔𝖚𝖘 𝖕𝖔𝖙𝖆𝖙𝖔 𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖜. 𝕺𝖍, 𝖍𝖔𝖜 𝕴 𝖒𝖎𝖘𝖘 𝖎𝖙 𝖘𝖔 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖑𝖞. 𝕴 𝖒𝖎𝖘𝖘 𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖑𝖔𝖓𝖌 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘 𝖇𝖞 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖎𝖗𝖊𝖕𝖑𝖆𝖈𝖊. 𝕴 𝖒𝖎𝖘𝖘 𝖘𝖔 𝖒𝖚𝖈𝖍 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖚𝖘𝖈𝖚𝖑𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 𝖆𝖙 𝖍𝖔𝖒𝖊. 𝕴 𝖈𝖆𝖓𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖜𝖆𝖎𝖙 𝖙𝖔 𝖘𝖊𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚. 𝕸𝖗. 𝕳𝖆𝖒𝖎𝖑𝖙𝖔𝖓 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕸𝖗. 𝕷𝖆𝖋𝖆𝖞𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖊 𝖘𝖆𝖞 𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖔, 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖇𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝖜𝖎𝖘𝖍𝖊𝖘. 𝕴 𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖘𝖊𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖘𝖔𝖔𝖓, 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊.

𝖄𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖙,

𝕵𝖔𝖍𝖓 𝕷𝖆𝖚𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖘

[nebuladreamerrr]

Treasure hunt | Lewis Hamilton x Fem Reader

Summary: Lewis can't help but reminisce about all the special memories he's created with his daughter over her three years of life. However, on her birthday, it's not his daughter who is surprised—it’s him.

Warnings: English is not my first language

Everyone moved swiftly around him, but for Lewis, time had come to a standstill. He struggled to grasp the fact that his daughter was growing up—his baby was no longer a baby—and he couldn't help but fear the day she would no longer seek his help and protection for the little things.

Y/N tried to soothe him, gently reminding him that his princess would always be his princess. And it was true: even though Abby was already three years old, she still sought her father’s company every chance she got. From the moment she woke up, the first thing she did was crawl into bed to snuggle against Lewis’s chest, where he would carefully wrap her in his arms and softly stroke her hair.

This simple gesture brightened the day for both Abby and her father, and they both struggled whenever he had a race week, which meant being apart from his little girl. However, over time, they had developed routines to make those days of separation more bearable. During those weeks, phone calls were constant; barely a moment passed without them talking, except when Lewis had to train, deal with the media, or attend important meetings. He also made sure to show Abby everything happening around him, hoping that the following year she could attend one of his races and see him in action.

A gentle tap on his back pulled him from his thoughts. He turned quickly, expecting someone from the decoration team to need his help, but he relaxed when he saw his wife standing in front of him.

"They just put up the garlands with Abby’s pictures if you’d like to take a look," she whispered, caressing his face before pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

"I’ll go now, my love," Lewis replied with a grateful smile.

He knew that these little details weren’t just important for his daughter, but also for maintaining his connection with his family amidst the whirlwind of his career as a driver.

Excited and filled with anticipation, he began to look at the pictures one by one. To his surprise, no one else was there observing them. It seemed like everyone had wanted to give him this moment to himself—a unique, intimate instant that he could cherish forever. It wasn’t that he was unwilling to share his emotions with the guests, but he also understood that his career had made him a public figure, attracting those who were only interested in gathering information about his private life, ready to exploit it whenever it suited them.

It wasn’t that this disturbed him too much; he had always been a reserved person, even before becoming famous. But over the years, the invasion of his privacy had become intolerable. Fortunately, this party was attended only by his family, a few close friends who had been with him and Y/N since the beginning of their relationship—to the point that they were already considered family—and some fellow Formula 1 drivers. Among them was George, his former teammate, who had witnessed many of his first moments as a father.

Lewis smiled as he recalled the day he found out Y/N was in labor. It had happened in the middle of a team meeting where they were discussing car improvements. Upon receiving the news, his mind went into such a nervous state that, had he driven himself to the hospital, he probably would have needed medical attention as well. Luckily, George was there and, without hesitation, drove him to the hospital, ensuring that he arrived in time to welcome his daughter.

As Lewis looked at the pictures, he couldn’t help but smile, but one in particular caught his attention. It was decorated with a small embossed sticker, glitter, and pink-toned details, giving it a special and intimate touch. In the image, he and Abby were the main subjects, captured in a unique moment—just after Lewis had returned from long weeks of racing.

To unwind and make up for lost time, they had decided to go to the park. It was a hot day, so nothing seemed better than enjoying an ice cream in the small private park near their home. That place was accessible only to neighborhood residents, meaning they could relax without worrying about curious onlookers or photographers trying to snap secret pictures.

Below the photo, a note written in black ink read: "In this picture, we’re eating ice cream at the park. Look for a place in the house where we always keep cold things."

A little disoriented but excited, Lewis headed toward the fridge. As he walked through the house, he couldn’t help but smile at the number of people enjoying the party, entertaining Abby with games and laughter. He also felt a deep warmth seeing Y/N surrounded by her childhood friends—those who, despite time and distance, had always been there. Whether it was sending her encouraging messages during exam season, gifts and letters on special occasions, or sharing unforgettable moments like her wedding day, where they had been her bridesmaids—something that had deeply moved Y/N.

When Lewis reached the kitchen, he was puzzled not to find a note stuck to the fridge. He frowned, unsure if he had misunderstood the clue, but after thinking for a moment, he decided to open the refrigerator. He smiled tenderly when he found another photograph inside, along with a small note.

The image captured one of the most special moments for him: storytime. In the photo, Lewis was lying in bed with Abby snuggled against his chest, listening intently as he read from a small book. The note read: "Our stories always connect us to our biggest dreams."

The card was decorated with a small moon, and as he read it, Lewis understood the next clue: "Look under the pillow where, as you rest, your imagination never ceases."

Growing more excited with the game, he headed to his bedroom and carefully lifted one of the pillows. There, he found another note, written on star-patterned cardstock and cut into the shape of a star.

"Look in the garland for a photo where we're cooking together."

Wasting no time, Lewis returned to the garland and began examining the photos until he found the right one. In the image, the three of them were in the kitchen: Abby beaming with excitement, Lewis placing a tray of cookies into the oven, and Y/N holding all the ingredient jars she could find to decorate them. Abby always insisted that "when it comes to food, more is always better," and for her, no combination was too crazy. Chocolate, honey, and strawberries on a single cookie? Why not? The more colorful ingredients, the better.

The note accompanying the photo read: "We love sweet things, but where do we usually keep them in this house?"

Lewis paused for a moment to think. He and Y/N maintained a healthy lifestyle, and due to his career, Lewis had to be especially mindful of his diet. They didn’t typically keep sweets readily available… until he suddenly remembered something.

With a spark of realization, he headed to the kitchen, to the shelf where they stored candies and treats for special occasions—Christmas, Halloween, or celebrations like this one.

There, carefully placed, he found a small box with a note that said: "Open it to discover your treasure."

Inside the box, Lewis found a drawing that Abby had lovingly made. In the illustration, two large figures were floating over the city in a hot air balloon. In her sweet—though slightly wobbly—childlike handwriting, it read:

"Daddy, you are my favorite superhero. The best daddy in the world."

In that moment, Lewis understood everything. He didn’t need to worry about the future or about how his relationship with Abby would change as she grew. It didn’t matter if one day she stopped seeking his help for everything, if she went through a rebellious phase, or even if she decided to follow in his footsteps in motorsports—something that, to be honest, terrified him, and he had never been shy about admitting it publicly.

To Abby, he was already the best dad in the world, and that was the only thing that truly mattered. Even if he sometimes wondered if he was doing enough, even if he constantly looked for ways to be better, the truth was that, in her eyes, he was already more than enough. At the end of the day, no opinion from journalists, fans, or strangers would ever matter as much as that of his own family.

[jestersprivilegee]

High and Dry | ch. 3

thomas j. x reader

Warnings: swearing, mostly yap tbh this chapter is pretty mid

Wc: 3k

Guys I swear it’ll pick up after this chapter js you wait 🙏

“I’d like for you to come visit,” your mother said, a smile in her tone.

“Mom,” you started, stress evident in the single word, “I would love to, but with the school year just starting…” you trailed off, hoping she’d get the hint.

“You don’t have the time,” she finished. A relieved sigh escaped your lungs, and you peered in the tiny window to see Thomas still typing on his computer.

“Yes. I’m sorry, mom, I—“

“It’s okay,” she interrupted abruptly. “You don’t have to give me an excuse. If you can’t visit, then let’s leave it at that.”

A heavy, almost frustrated sigh escaped you. As much as you’d like to visit her, you weren’t quite ready to face her after the years of emotional trauma she put you through. And with the reintroduction of Thomas in your life, you weren’t quite sure if you would ever be ready. He was the only person you opened up to enough to let him see that side of your family. He was the only one to have met her. And she really loved him. Still does, probably, because you never told her why you stopped being friends.

She was under the impression that you grew apart due to him moving to France. You never did have the heart to tell her the real reason.

“Okay.” You frowned. “I’ll call you when I get the chance.”

She hung up without saying goodbye. Instant guilt bubbled in your stomach all the way up to your chest, making you grimace bitterly. You felt like a total shithead for pushing her away, but what could you do? The state of your mental health was deteriorating, the second most stressful time of year was beginning, and enemy number one somehow found a way to wiggle back in your life.

It was too overwhelming to deal with all at once, especially since your therapy visits were slowing down to once a month rather than once every two weeks. A small, desperate part of you was convincing you that it was for your mother’s sake that you don’t visit. If you went, you reasoned, what would end up happening is projection from all the fucked-up shit going on in life. As a result, she would only get worse and you would be unhappy, too. So it was best to avoid until it stopped all together.

You took a moment to regain yourself, then walked back in and wordlessly sat, ignoring the lump that formed in your throat.

—

“First day of teaching, how are you feeling?” Alex grinned, his hands clasped together. You shrugged.

“Nervous. Excited. Kind of dreading it.”

Hamilton shook his head, a wide smile still plastered on his face. “You’ll do fine! First day is always nerve-wrecking, but I’m always down the hall if you need anything.”

A sheepish thanks was sent his way, and you tried not to think about all the chaos that would ensue during the day. There was bound to be that one kid who causes trouble. When running into those types of students, you have to remind yourself they probably have something going on in their lives causing them to act up. Giving them a reaction would only give them a reason to continue. Best thing you can do is laugh it off and move on.

“I appreciate it, Alexander,” you said. His long hair was put up in a ponytail, and he had this ambition to him that seemed to infect the people around him. He was only a year or two your junior, yet he was so intelligent and walked like he owned the place.

“Of course. Hey, Lafayette got back with his girlfriend, just like I predicted.” He sat on the edge of your desk, changing the focus from you to drama.

“Oh, good, he won’t shamelessly flirt with me anymore,” you sighed in mock relief.

“Who’s shamelessly flirtin’ with you?” A certain southerner chimed in, walking through the door. Thomas held two coffees in his hand, one iced and one hot. His biceps strained against the white button up he wore, and—wait. Why were you staring at his arms?

“And now's a good time for me to leave. See you, Y/n, good luck!” Hamilton hopped off the desk, scowling at Jefferson when they crossed paths. Thomas sent back an equally distasteful glare, then turned to you with an expectant look.

“No one anymore,” you formed your mouth into a thin line, shifting in the shitty swivel chair the school provides.

“Hm. Okay.” He narrowed his eyes, scanning your appearance, taking note of the neatness in your hair and makeup. “I brought you coffee, even though you took my spot again.”

An iced latte with a distinct Starbucks logo was placed on your desk. Instantly, your eyebrows shot up in surprise. You hesitantly grabbed it, taking a sip. It was your favorite. How did he remember that you like extra caramel and extra vanilla?

“It was open,” you shrugged, looking down at the drink. “This isn’t laced with anything, is it?”

He smirked. “How’d you know?”

“Because you would never bring me coffee out of the goodness of your heart—if you have one, that is,” you retorted.

His smirk grew wider, and he would rather you throw it in his face than tell you the real reason why he brought you coffee. He felt bad for you. After what happened the day before, he realized you must be going through a lot, and a tiny part of him wanted to correct his behaviors. But he would never admit that. So instead of apologizing or trying to be genuinely nice, he figured he could reach you through food. The best way to a woman’s heart is through her stomach, after all.

“I have a heart,” he protested. “Trust me, L/n, if I wanted you dead you’d be dead. But you’re still breathin’.”

“Thank you, you are such an amazing person now that you’ve spared me! What would I ever do without you?” Your tone was dripping with sarcasm. He seemed to thrive in it.

“Suffer, probably,” he suggested, a slyness in his stupid smile. You hated the way that you liked how his eyes twinkled with amusement.

“Right. Because I already don’t do that with you in my life.”

Instant regret the moment the words left your mouth. Why did you say that? All it would do is stir up drama and start the day off negatively.

The smile he wore faded, and for a second, guilt tugged at your heart. “Alright, I get it,” he threw his hands up in defense. “You hate me. Don’t gotta rub it in my face every time you see me, though.”

You muttered incoherent nonsense under your breath. “Feels like I have a right to,” you said. All of a sudden, keeping his gaze seemed impossible. How was it that playful teasing could turn sour so quickly?

“You do,” he nodded, “but you’re also gonna have to suck it up, cause you’re stuck with me the entire year.”

He was right, as much as you hated to acknowledge that. His attention lingered on you, taking in the frown that tugged at your lips, how your face had matured over the years, the way your haircut suited you perfectly. Thomas hated how you made his heart flutter. You shouldn’t make him feel anything other than rage, and yet? He still became flustered at the sight of you.

“Thomas, you—you really hurt me, y’know that?” You started, finally pulling your focus back to him. “I would’ve done anything for you. I would’ve lost a leg or walked through fire if you asked me to. So I think I’m entitled to being a little bitter when you’re around.”

He stared at you, digesting what you dropped on him in silence. Slowly, he nodded, an unreadable expression twisting on his features. Right as he opened his mouth to speak, the bell rang, and the chatter of students filled the hall. He glanced up, then took a step back.

“Saved by the bell,” he murmured, looking at you one last time before exiting.

A breath you didn’t know you were holding was released. You thought telling him how he hurt you, maybe even yelling or belittling him would make you feel better, but it didn’t. The weight was still on your shoulders. The pain still loomed over you, haunting the back of your mind, dancing and thriving in the self-pity you felt. What you would give to stop it.

The first wave of students clamored in, and you stood, forcing a smile and a positive attitude. Next door, you heard Thomas welcoming students in, you heard him saying hello to older ones. His stupid, sweet southern drawl being the only voice you could hear over the loudness that teenagers brought in.

You loathed him for it. Or was it that you hated yourself for selectively hearing his voice above all others?

—

The day went by surprisingly fast, and you ended up having a lot of fun. Lafayette and John had the same lunch as you, so they invited you to eat with them while in the teacher workroom. Conversation flowed, inside jokes were built, and you came out of your shell for once. Naturally, you and John teased Lafayette for flirting with you during the first impressions, then three days later getting back with the girl he said he was ‘officially over with.’ They even noted how you seemed more talkative, more expressive once you’ve eased into the friend group a little. You were just happy someone wanted to be your friend.

The students you had were all smart, and the majority of your classes worked well together. Some better than others, but what mattered is that they had fun. Of course, there were those few students that disrupted class with their friends. It was a simple fix. By the end of the day, you were exhausted, and it didn’t help knowing you had a full week ahead. More lesson plans to create. More time spent working with Jefferson.

“There she is!” An energetic Hamilton barreled through the door. He was practically bouncing off the walls from how lively he was. It astounded you how he was so cheerful after an entire day of working.

“Hi, Alex.” The best you could offer was a lethargic smile. “Good day, I presume?”

“Great day,” he corrected. “All of my classes were perfect. Well, except one, but they were still good!” He slid atop your desk once more, his smile never faltering. “So.”

“So?” You raised a brow.

“How was it?” His hands went to grip the edge of the desk.

“Good. Tiring, but I had fun. Nobody got hurt, so that’s a win in my book. Went over the syllabus, class procedures, the works, but I didn’t want the first day to be that boring, so we had them choose a song or artist that represents them. One kid said Sexyback. I still don’t know how to feel about it.”

“Kids never fail to disappoint me,” He chuckled.

“I know. When I read it I just started laughing. I think that one was my favorite, and the kid that wrote he’s the reincarnation of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.” You reached for the stack of notecards that students turned in, flipping through them. Honorable mention for whoever put Life in the Fast Lane.

“Good for both of them. I wish I were that confident.”

“Right? They know their worth. I gotta respect it,” you said, shoving the cards back in the turn-in box.

“Honestly,” he hummed. He contemplated his next words, fidgeting with a stray pen on your desk. “Any trouble from Jefferson?”

“Nothing more than usual,” you shrugged. “He brought me coffee this morning.”

Alexander’s eyebrows flew up in surprise. “Really? What did he want?”

“I don’t know, he never told me why he brought me it. He never asked me for anything either, so maybe he just bought an extra by accident,” you reasoned. Which it didn’t add up in your mind, because how could he buy an extra that just so happened to be the exact kind of coffee you drink?

“Huh,” his eyebrows creased, “that’s odd. One would assume he would give it to Madison before anyone else…”

Even though you didn’t want it to, a knot of jealousy twisted in your stomach. “Who’s Madison?” You asked, trying to keep your tone as level as possible.

“Someone from the math team Jefferson is best friends with.” A tight scowl overtook his features. “Madison and I used to get along, too, until Jeffershit came around.”

It shouldn’t hurt so much to hear Thomas was “best friends” with some girl named Madison. Why did it hurt so much? Why did it hurt at all?

“Yeah? So Thomas really does ruin everything, huh?” You laughed, trying to act as if you weren’t crushed by the possibility of Thomas finding someone new.

You knew that Thomas was bad for you, that you wouldn’t get along ever again, but the thought of him having someone else he’d share everything with, someone he’d laugh and have inside jokes with…it sucked. That was the only way you could classify it. A sick, selfish side wanted him to still be stuck on you; for him to think your name first when someone talked about close friends. But you knew better than to give in to the toxicity.

“God, don’t even get me started,” he groaned. “Seriously. Because you and I both know that once I get going, I don’t stop.”

An airy laugh escaped you, and his bright, enthusiastic smile returned. Thomas was often the topic of discussion between you and Alex, mostly when you felt like talking shit about someone, but right now you wanted to do anything but think about him. It seemed like all your thoughts revolved around Thomas Jefferson. His small action of bringing you coffee, joking around with him, why his cologne smelt so good, the way his shirt hugged his muscles—by the way, when did his muscles become so defined? And why did you find yourself staring at them so often?

“Anyway, you’re starting To Kill A Mockingbird soon with your classes, right?” He asked. “It’s one of my favorites. I wish I could read it with my classes, but with them being seniors, I really can’t,” he shook his head, a disappointed sigh leaving him.

“Yeah, it’s my favorite too, but for now we’re just reviewing and setting up for the year. I’m gonna try and convince Jefferson to start it next week instead of the week after—although maybe I should be a little nicer for that to work…” you trailed off, grimacing at the thought.

“Convince me of what?” Thomas jumped in, standing in the doorway all casual.

Alex stared at him, scrunching his nose in distaste. “This is the second time you’ve done this today, Jefferson.”

Thomas shrugged. “I heard my name. Can’t blame me for bein’ curious.”

Hamilton scoffed, “go be curious somewhere else. We don’t want you here.“

“Believe me, Hamilton, the last place I want to be is in a room with you. ’nd now you’ve infected L/n with your idiocy. This ain’t exactly the ideal environment for me.” He retorted, unamused.

“You could resign. No one’s forcing you to work here,” Alex suggested, smugness evident in his tone. Annoyance flickered in Thomas’s jaw.

“Okay, Alex,” you chuckled nervously, shooting him a look as if to say cut it out. “I was wondering if we could move reading Mockingbird to next week instead.” Alex seemed to have gotten the hint that you needed to be on Jefferson’s good side in order for him to comply.

“Hm. I dunno… you wanna tell me how smart, handsome, amazing, and charming I am?” A sly grin grew on his lips.

“I’m not gonna kiss your ass, Jefferson,” you deadpanned. So much for getting him on your side. You’d rather die than admit those things.

“Well then, I guess we’re not movin’ it a week closer. Your loss, Y/n,” he hummed. The sudden feminine urge to throw your computer at him was overwhelming.

“Oh, c’mon, d’you seriously wanna work on mindless review for two weeks?”

“I don’t mind doing so,” he took some steps toward your desk. “Most of ‘em don’t even remember the difference between a compound and complex sentence, much less how to write an essay or basic punctuation. This’ll set ‘em up for a good year.”

You couldn’t disagree with him. A lot of your past students did struggle with grammar for whatever reason, and maybe a couple weeks to review everything they lost due to summer wouldn’t hurt. “But they aren’t stupid. Most of them are honors students, it shouldn’t take two weeks to review the basics.”

“Mm, you’re right,” he frowned, shifting his watch to Hamilton for a brief moment. “But I still think we should stick with what I’ve done every year I’ve been here. My students have always had the best test scores in the district, after all.”

The not-so-humble bragging only furthered your irritation with his intransigence.

“Oh, that’s crap, Jefferson. Every other school is twice as small, and their funding is significantly less. We’re the biggest school in this district, we dominate in sports, UIL, and scores for every subject,” Alex chimed in, crossing his arms tightly over his chest.

“Uh, was anybody speakin’ to you, Hamilton?” He huffed. “I swear, you don’t know when to stop talking.”

“That is kind of true,“ you mumbled. Alex elbowed your arm, giving you a pointed look.

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” he pouted.

You gave him a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. But to be fair, you said it yourself earlier. ‘Once I get going, I don’t stop.’” Upon hearing his words echoed back to him, he groaned.

“See? Even Y/n agrees. But unless she agrees that I am the most gorgeous, intelligent, dashingly attractive man she’s ever met—“

“Go fuck yourself,” you interrupted, a bitter laugh escaping your chest. “We can just stick to your plan since you want to be such an ass.”

How badly you wanted to erase the smug grin that reached his eyes. “‘M not bein’ an ass, ‘m just bein’ a smart planner. You’ll thank me later, L/n.”

You sighed. This was gonna be a long year.

[goldenhazelnut]

Caught in the Spotlight || Lewis Hamilton

The rhythmic hum of Lewis Hamilton's car engine echoed through the underground parking lot as he pulled into a discreet corner. It was well past midnight, and the shadows concealed more than just the sleek lines of his custom Mercedes-AMG. Despite the hour, the Formula 1 legend stepped out, wearing a black hoodie and sunglasses. His movements were cautious but confident as he sent a quick text:

"I'm here."

A minute later, the side door of the parking lot creaked open. She stepped through, clutching her bag nervously. A psychology student in her final year, she had never imagined that a chance meeting at an exclusive event six months ago would lead to a clandestine rendezvous with one of the most recognizable faces on the planet.

"You're late," Lewis teased, his voice low but warm.

"You’re impossible to sneak around for," she shot back, rolling her eyes. But the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her irritation.

He stepped closer, wrapping an arm around her waist. "Worth it, though."

"Debatable," she said, though her tone was playful.

"Oh, come on," Lewis said, smirking. "You’re not saying this isn’t the highlight of your day."

"My day? Sure. My week? The jury’s still out." she quipped, leaning into him. "What if someone recognizes us?"

"That’s why we’re here," he said. "Relax. Nobody’s lurking in the shadows with a camera."

"Famous last words," muttered under her breath, though she couldn’t stop herself from smiling.

The two climbed into the car, where Lewis started recounting his latest race while she listened intently, occasionally throwing in sarcastic comments that made him laugh. Their ease with each other was evident—until a sudden flash lit up the interior of the car.

"What the hell?" she gasped, ducking instinctively.

Lewis turned sharply, spotting a man outside the driver’s side window with a camera pressed to his face. Another flash went off, followed by the unmistakable sound of a lens clicking.

"Stay down," Lewis commanded, his voice low and steady as he rolled down the window slightly. "Hey! What the hell are you doing?"

"Just getting a scoop, mate," the paparazzo said smugly, still snapping pictures. "Who’s your friend? She doesn’t look like she’s part of the racing world."

"Get the hell out of here," Lewis snapped, his usual calm veneer slipping. "Now."

The man laughed. "Relax, Hamilton. The world’s gonna love this. A little late-night rendezvous? Very on-brand."

Her heart was pounding as she sat frozen in her seat. "Lewis, let’s just go," she whispered.

But before Lewis could move, the photographer darted in front of the car, blocking their exit. More flashes erupted, blinding in the darkness.

"Are you serious?" Lewis muttered, throwing the car into reverse and backing up quickly. He tried to swerve around the man, but the photographer sidestepped, keeping his lens trained on them.

"Lewis, stop! You’ll hit him!" she cried, grabbing his arm.

"He’s not going to move unless I make him," Lewis growled, but he reluctantly braked.

"Call security or something," she said, fumbling for her phone. Her hands were shaking as she pulled it out and began dialing.

"Oh, don’t bother," the paparazzo said, smirking as he lowered the camera. "I’ve got what I need."

And with that, he turned and jogged off, disappearing into the darkness of the parking lot. They sat in stunned silence for a moment, the tension in the air almost tangible.

"You okay?" Lewis finally asked, glancing at her.

"No," she admitted, her voice trembling. "What just happened?"

"We got caught," he said bluntly, running a hand over his face. "I’m sorry. I should have been more careful."

"It’s not your fault," she said, though her voice was shaky. "But... what do we do now?"

Lewis sighed, starting the car again. "We deal with it. Together. Whatever happens next, we’ll handle it."

She nodded, though her stomach was in knots. She couldn’t help but wonder if their world—their fragile, private world—had just shattered beyond repair.

[zonzei]

Boss, I mean Thomas

pt. 2!

Y/N x Thomas Jefferson

Plot - Y/N is a lonely 25 year old, working a job she doesn't like with a boss she doesn't like-- But does she really not like him? And why did she never realize how fine he was!

A/N - Been very very hard to come up with ideas! Finally did though, hope you guys enjoy! :)

:)))

"Coffee!"

You grabbed the tall cup filled to the brim with nothing but ice (and a bit of coffee). While Thomas sat down, you tried not to make direct eye contact with him, it would... be too awkward for you to handle.

"So as I was saying--"

Before you knew it, he just kept on going on and on. Were you listening? Heck no.

"Uh Y/N?" He waved a hand, practically in your face. "You weren't listening, were you?" Thomas asked, his tone mildly annoyed.

"Sorry. Go on!" You quickly apologized.

"Anyway as I was saying--"

Thomas stirred his coffee-- accidentally spilling it on your white button-up shirt.

"I'm SO SORRY Y/N!" Thomas practically screamed, it was strange seeing a man like him being so worried over a silly mistake made you feel... you didn't know the word for it.

"It's okay!"

"No-- it's not!"

He raced towards the counter, grabbing a pile of paper towels from the barista. A lady about your age-- with dark curly hair. She was drop-dead gorgeous, you couldn't help but squint your eyes at the look she gave Thomas. Before you knew it, he was on his knee right in-front of you, cleaning your shirt.

"Sorry Y/N"

"It's okay..." you mumbled. "It's alright, you don't have to continue apologizing"

"It's still wet here" Thomas took off his signature magenta hoodie. "You can just wear this" he placed it in your lap, waiting for your reaction. You hesitated for a moment, before picking it up and giving him a reassuring nod.

You awkwardly put the hoodie on, "Uhh.. Lunch must be almost over by this time, we should go back" you simply stated, not looking at Thomas.

He nodded, and the two of you quickly exited the shop. You walked as fast as you could (without running), to try to stay away from Thomas. Yet he was still not too far behind you.

"Y/N"

You turned around facing Thomas, who looked to be slightly out of breath. "Slow down a tad bit, will ya?" He muttered.

"Uh yeah my bad" (spoken like a true alpha)

The two of you slowly walked back to your workplace, you could just feel all the stares on you. Especially when you walked past Maria's desk, you just knew she was going to start a new rumor about you and Thomas. Oh and James M too! He was one of Thomas's only two friends (that you knew of) in the office, he was going to 'ship' (or whatever it's called) you guys together.

You sat back down in your little cubicle as Thomas went back to his desk, right after telling you to call him if you needed any help. And with that, you just got back to work. At least something remotely interesting happened in your repetitive, boring life. *SIGH* It's fine--

Speaking of fine things, Thomas was 101% on top of that list, for right now at least! Not ashamed to apologize, making sure you were okay and all. Was all of this bare-minimum? Yes, but can't a girl be just a little delusional?!

At the very end of the day, you drove back home. Flopped down on your couch and called your BFF. You told Eliza every little bit of tea there was.

Did she like Thomas? No, her husband was literal arch-enemies with him.

But did she (being the supportive friend she is) listen to every single detail you totally overshared? YUP!

Then you remembered, you had Thomas's phone number...

Should you message him?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

TYYYYY FOR READING!!!!!!!! PART 3 COMING IDK WHEN...

[featguler]

it made us restless ────── my god, this reminds me of when we were young.

lewis hamilton is seen reconnecting with an old lover.

⌗ pairing : lewis hamilton x reader ⌗ tags : reader is female, and her faceclaim is established. reader is a singer. not proofread, possibly shitty. ⌗ notes : this is my 200 followers special!! a different sports!! i haven't done a 100 followers special because i'm technically supposed to write for a football athlete that is not from real madrid, but i haven't decided who i wanna do for that so... you get this first :3 also i tried doing something different with the header!!! title and description is from 'when we were young' by adele ♡ masterlist.

FACECLAIM 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ yura yunita ( instagram )

DISCLAIMER 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𐙚 i am not affiliated with yura yunita, lewis hamilton, or anyone mentioned in this fic 𐙚 any similarities in name, time, and place is purely coincidental 𐙚 do not mind the time stamps 𐙚 click on the pictures if it seems blurry

ynusername

liked by hamiltonsource, ynluvr, lewishamilton, and others

ynusername some of that ldt (long distance tennis) 🤪 @.lewishamilton tagged lewishamilton view all comments

lewishamilton <33 ❤️ by author

ynusername <33

username okay so anyone else got recommended this post on their timeline... seven years later...

username let me tell you about the heart attack i got... username i fr thought they were getting back together

lewishamilton i totally beat you though ❤️ by author

ynusername liar liar pants on fire → lewishamilton my pants aren't on fire?? → ynusername i wouldn't know you're half the world away → lewishamilton aw sorry pretty baby :( <33 username oh... this relationship wasn't a hoax... → username ??? 😭😭😭 username they were CUTE cute huh..

username i love you my mother and my father please adopt me

username wow seeing my comment from 7 years ago here is crazy... → username 😭😭😭

username this must be a sign from the universe huh...??? HUH???

username it's literally just the instagram algorithm fucking things up again calm down username REAL i'm not even following y/n

yourfriend cutiessss! ❤️ by author

ynusername i love you! 🥺

ynsource

liked by ynfanaccount, ynluvr, hamiltonsource, and others

ynsource my sources say that y/n is rekindling with an old lover 🤭 tagged ynusername view all comments

username and what sources are these

ynsource trust me → username LITERALLY "trust me bro" SOURCE???

username creating unnecessary drama

username i feel like it's been a few months ❤️ by author

ynsource 🫣

hamiltonsource wait can u tell me ❤️ by author

ynsource ofc baby username not the ship going so strong that their fan accounts are also in a love affair

username that's a dinner for TWO...

username she's allowed to have friends you know → username or other men idk → username no other men → username ?????

ynusername

liked by ynsource, lewishamilton, and others

ynusername some fresh air before the tour 🤝 which dates will you be going? :-) <33 view all comments

username oh she's teasing us

username guys.......... they're obviously talking again right

ynusername i'll see you all!!!

username I'LL SEE YOU I LOVE YOU username SEE YOU SEE YOU SEE YOU username vitamin SEE YOU!!! ❤️ by author → ynusername ohh that's cute → username WAIT ILY THANK YOU FOR REPLYING → ynusername <33

username I'M GOING TO THE ARLINGTON SHOW QUEEN ❤️ by author

ynsource work those hamstrings 😍

username i feel like i'm in a cult

hamiltonsource we will... be seeing you <33

ynusername which dates? xo <33 ynsource HOW DID YOU GET A REPLY BUT NOT ME??? @.hamiltonsource → hamiltonsource i'm just better baby

username london 2nd night! <33 ❤️ by author

username she's fucking with us right

georgerussell63 monaco date ❤️ by author

ynusername which obviously exists → georgerussell63 🤣 ❤️ by author username great now we have both of *****' ex interacting with one another

username why are we so afraid to say the word lewis

username SHHHH THAT'S FORBIDDEN AROUND HERE → username wtf??? i'll @ him idc @.lewishamilton → username real → username @.lewishamilton

ynusername

liked by ynsource, ynluvr, yniloveu others

ynusername found some gems for a couple of years ago 🥰 view all comments

username were you getting married 😹

ynusername 🤫

ynsource to WHO!?!?!?!?

username happy bday queen

username it's not her bday yet 😭

ynluvr oh you are GORGEOUS gorgeous ❤️ by author

ynusername <33

username white is fr her colour

username whoever is going to marry her will be so lucky to see her walking down the aisle... 🥺

lewishamilton

liked by ynusername, hamiltonsource, and others

lewishamilton First paddock birthday in a while 🎂🥳 <33 tagged ynusername view all comments

ynusername happy birthday to me!!! ❤️ by author

lewishamilton Birthday girl! → ynusername :-)

username HARDLAUNCH?????

username me when the world didn't end in 2015

username my mom thinks i'm insane for tossing my phone across the room after seeing this

hamiltonsource happy birthday mom @.ynusername

ynsource go away that's MY mom??? → hamiltonsource OUR mom 🥰

username HEEELLLLLLOOOOO??

username OMG.....

username wait why am i emotional

username seeing lewis post y/n gave me such intense whiplash i think i was transported back to 2011

username i have no one to send this to

[keithpaladin05]

Poly hamilsquad x reader sickfic

It was a quiet morning in the middle of November. You woke up to a pounding headache, piercing stomach pains, and a dry, sore throat. You writhed around on the bed, willing the pain to go away. Your eyes welled up with tears and you whimpered in pain. “Mmm babygirl?” John whispered as he yawns and rolls over to face you. He sees your eyes welling up with tears and your face scrunched up in pain. “Hey, baby come here” he cooed as you put your head into the crook of his neck. “I-it hurts s-so bad” you sobbed into his neck as you tightly grasped his shirt. “Shhhhh where’s it hurt baby girl?” “My head, s-stomach and t-throat.” You whimpered out. John kissed your forehead and leaned over you to shake Laf awake. “Laf, hey, wake up babe.” Laf stirred and opened his eyes slowly. “What’s going on?” He asked sleepily. “Baby girl is sick” John said sadly as he rubbed your back. “Aww mon amour come here” he cooed and kissed your shoulder. He then placed the back of his hand against your forehead and hummed in disapproval. “You have a fever lovie” you whine and cuddle into Laf’s chest. “I’ll go find some medicine” John says as he climbed over Herc, waking him in the process. He grumbles but stops once he sees the state you’re in. “Awww honey” he coos as you look at him sadly with a pained look on your face. “H-hurts s-so b-bad” you croaked and your eyes welled up with tears again from the pain. “I know baby, I know” Herc said sadly as he moved closer and kissed your unusually warm forehead.

A few minutes later John comes back in with some pain pills, a glass of water, and some tea. “We probably should wake up Alex so he knows what’s going on” John says as he sits by your feet, rubbing your calf soothingly. John then stood up and shook Alex awake gently. “Baby, wake up. (Y/n) is sick” John said. Alex immediately woke up to that and sat up concerned. “Is she okay? Where is she?” He asked frantically as he looked around the room and spotted you cuddled in between Laf and Herc. “Awww lovely, what’s got you so sick, hmm?” You just shrug and let out a tearful sniffle. “I-I don’t know” you mumbled and snuggled your face into Herc’s shoulder. “Try and go back to sleep honey” Herc said quietly and stroked your hair. You nodded and closed your eyes.

Around an hour later you woke up feeling worse than before. Your stomach was churning painfully, and your head felt like it was going to explode. You then felt the vomit coming up your throat and you ran to the bathroom. You didn’t have time to shut or lock the door so of course the guys heard you. You heard Laf come into the bathroom and he sat down behind you. “Shhhh mon amour just let it all out” he soothed as he tied your hair back and rubbed your back soothingly. Once you were finished you leaned back into his chest in a fit of sobs. “H-hurts” you said in between sobs. “I know baby, I know” he whispered as he rubbed your stomach in soothing circles. “Lets clean you up then we’ll go snuggle on the couch” he says as he wipes your mouth with a cloth and picks you up bridal style. He brings you to the couch and lays you down with your head on Alex’s lap while he typed away on his laptop. “Feeling any better babe?” He asked while stroking your hair. You shook your head no and nuzzled your face into his stomach. Alex looked at you sadly and went back to typing.

~time skip~

It was around 5pm now and you were currently laying on top of John’s chest on the couch watching a movie you couldn’t remember the name of as you were in a fever induced daze. Herc brought you some more medicine about 30 minutes prior but you still felt just as sick as this morning. John noticed you dazing with a blank and tired look on your face and rubbed your back in soothing circles. “Go to sleep baby” he said softly and pulled the blanket up to your neck. You closed your eyes and wrapped your arms around his waist.

Around an hour later the rest of the boys had all joined you in the living room for a chill movie night. You were sitting in between John and Laf, with Herc on the reclining chair and Alex on his lap. There was pizza on the coffee table and you were happily munching away.

“You feeling better love?” Laf asks as he puts his arm around you.

“A little, thanks to all of you” you swipe happily and put your head on his shoulder, happy to have your boys.

[dorkszn]

THOSE GUYS WHO simply get hard off of kissing you. like when you’re about to go to the store and you kiss him a little longer than 2 seconds, you’re gonna wait because he refuses to walk to the store with a boner.

+ john l, phillip h, choso k, eddie m, atsumu m and all your other favs <3

[thenasoneshots]

Lafayette Oneshot - Because Fuck You, That's Why!

Requested?: No

Prompt: 6."I-I'm pregnant." 7. "I'll be here for you, through the dark." 11. "You gotta stop doing that." "Doing what?" "Saying things that make me want to kiss you!"

Type of oneshot: Angst/Fluff

Timing: Modern AU

Reader's Relations: John’s Sister

Warnings: None If any of this is triggering, please let me know and I’ll warn for it next time!

Other notes: You live with John

-------------------------

I sobbed as I hid myself under the covers, forgetting that I hadn’t locked the door to my room.

“(Y/n)? (Y/n), what happened?”

“Hmm.”

“What exactly does ‘Hmm’ mean?” John asked, pulling the covers back so he could see my tear-stained face.

“It means ‘None of your fucking business’. Leave me alone, please,” I muttered, sending him the middle finger.

“(Y/n), I’m your brother. I am not leaving this room until you tell me.”

“I-I’m pregnant,” I spoke in an almost whisper, hoping he hadn’t heard, but when I felt a hand on my shoulder, I knew he had, “I’ll be here for you. Through the dark.”

I smiled slightly and dried my eyes, “T-thank you.”

“Do you know who the father is?”

I shook my head, “All I know is it’s some French guy.”

“Okay. That’s fine with me. I won’t judge you, (Y/n). Anything I can get you?” John asked, his normal cinnamon roll self returning after being concerned about me. I just shook my head, “Not right now, but thank you.”

--------------------------------JOHN’S POV

“What’s got you so worked up?”

“Nothing,” I replied, looking at my phone for the thousandth time that minute, my leg jittering uncontrollably. 

“Something’s wrong. John, we’re your friends, we can tell when you’re bothered by something.”

“Okay fine. I’m worried about (Y/n). She went out this morning and said she’d text me when she was nearly home. I still have not received that text, and I can’t help but think that something has happened,” I answered, wracking my hands through my hair.

“Oh.”

“Really? That’s all you say?”

Before anything else could be said, there was the sound of a door opening and some muttering. Then I heard a familiar voice, “Uncle John! Look what Mumm-” the young girl cut herself off before dashing out the same way she’d come.

YOUR POV

“Mummy! Why didn’t you tell me Uncle John had people over!”

“Huh? What are you talking about, Sweetie?” I asked, bending down to Marié’s level, and wiping the tears from her eyes.

“There’s people sitting in the living room with Uncle John and I don’t know who they are, or that they would be here!”

“It’s okay, Sweetie. We can ask your Uncle about it,” I replied, picking her up and walking into the living room, “John?”

“(Y/n)! I’m so glad you’re alright! Why didn’t you text me?!”

“Phone died,” I replied. I’ll put it on charge when I go upstairs. Sorry.”

“Mon ami, are you going to introduce us to this belle famme here or are we going to have to make assumptions?”

“Oh sorry. This is (Y/n). My little sister. (Y/n), Meet my friends; Alexander, but we all just call him Alex,” John spoke, pointing to a relatively short guy with dark brown hair pulled back into a low ponytail, “Hercules,” a taller male with a bandana wrapped around his head, and “And Lafayette. His name is too long, so we all just call hi-” John stopped talking when I let out a small gasp and turned around, running out of the room and up to my bedroom, letting myself slide down the door once inside and muttering to myself.

JOHN’S POV

“Do you have something to say, Laf?”

“Whatever do you mean, Mon ami? I’ve never seen her before.”

“Then why’d she run off the minute she made eye contact with you?” I asked, turning to him, raising an eyebrow, “She knows you.”

I could tell he was trying to wrack his brain, when I felt an arm wrap around my legs, “Uppy!” I bent down and picked Marié up. As the five-year-old started to play with my hair, I continued to stare Laf down. Then it clicked, “Laf, don’t tell me… You don’t happen to be Marié’s father, do you?”

“Mon ami, that is an absurd thought. I told you already I have never met ta souer before. How could that even happen?”

I sighed and sat down on the sofa again, Marié now happily sitting in my lap, “Laf, like how you can tell when something is worrying me, I can tell when you’re lying. (Y/n) knows you.”

Before he could reply, my phone pinged. I picked it up and looked at the message to see it was from (Y/n): “Can you ask Lafayette to come upstairs? He deserves to know��”

“Laf, my sister wants to talk to you. You ‘deserve to know’ something.”

YOUR POV

By the time I sent John a message, I was sitting on my bed, wracking my hands through my hair That’s when I heard a knock on the door, “Excuse moi, may I come in?”

“Yes,” I responded, trying to calm myself down.

“(Y/n)... John thought of something downstairs..”

“Yes. You’re Marié’s father. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything to you, but I didn’t know I was pregnant until I got back to America, and by that point, it was too late. “C-Could you ever forgive me?” I muttered, my shoulders wracking with the sobs I was letting out.

“Mon ami,” he replied, bending down in front of me and placing his hands on my shoulders comfortingly, “I should be the one asking for your forgiveness. I am the one who got you pregnant, and I haven’t done anything to help with the result of it.”

“You didn’t know she existed, Laf,” I muttered, reaching up and wiping a tear from his cheek, “You’ve got to stop doing that, you know.”

“Doing what?”

“Doing things that make me want to kiss you,” I answered, my face going bright red.

“Y-you want to kiss moi?”

“Y-yeah. Honestly, when we met in France, I fell in love with you, and the night Marié happened, I wasn’t actually that drunk. I’m sorry if this is creeping you out, I mean, I’m just your friend’s sister now. The past is the past, right?” Instead of a response, Laf just removed a hand from my shoulder and placed it on my cheek, “Mon ami, may I kiss you?”

And… my face was bright red again, “Y-you feel the same?” Again, there was no verbal response, only a nod. I nodded back and leaned in, kissing him, soon finding myself lying down on my bed, Laf hovering over me.

“WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?!”

I immediately broke off at the sound of my brother’s voice, as I turned to see his face; red with anger, “LAF THAT IS MY SISTER!”

“Et c'est ma petite amie,” Laf replied, causing me to blush for the third time in ten minutes. Due to my French knowledge, I knew he’d just called me his girlfriend.

“Fine. You hurt her, you’re dead, Laf.”

----------------------

“Marié, how would you feel about getting a little sibling?” I asked the now eight-year-old as I fiddled with the ring on my left finger. Her face immediately lit up, “Really?!”

I nodded and she squealed, running off happily, probably to tell her friends. I stood up, however, I could feel eyes boring into me from behind, “Why are you asking Marié that specific question, (Y/n)?”

“Because fuck you, that’s why, John. My love life is none of your business.”

—----------------------------------END OF ONESHOT

Finally back to writing Hamilton oneshots hehe.

[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?"

[multifamdomfan]

Lams as Incorrect Quotes

---

1.

Alexander: I’m going to write until I die.

John: Or you could nap.

Alexander: I’m going to write until I die.

John: Okay, dramatic.

---

2.

John: Who hurt you?

Alexander: pulls out 10-page list

John: Oh.

Alexander: This is just volume one.

---

3.

Alexander: Am I talking too loud? Sometimes I get overexcited.

John: already in love No, no, it’s adorable. Continue.

Alexander: …Wait, what?

---

4.

Alexander: You know what I hate? Feelings.

John: I know. I’m your boyfriend, not your therapist.

Alexander: in tears But you’re so good at both.

---

5.

Alexander: I'm going to live forever.

John: snorts You think stress, trauma, and caffeine will let you do that?

Alexander: …Yes?

---

6.

John: How are you still writing? It’s 3 AM.

Alexander: I’m fueled by ambition, self-loathing, and spite.

John: And tea.

Alexander: And tea.

---

7.

Alexander: John, if I ever die—

John: immediately I will burn the world to the ground.

Alexander: …I was going to say “take care of my legacy,” but okay.

---

8.

John: Alex, you need to calm down.

Alexander: I can’t calm down, I haven’t been calm since 1772.

---

9.

Alexander: I’m not emotional.

John: Alex, you cried because someone dropped a quill.

Alexander: It was symbolic!

---

10.

John: You’re cute when you’re stressed.

Alexander: I’m always stressed.

John: Exactly.

---

[its-avalon-08]

hearts intertwined (hamilton x sister! driver!rosberg)

brocedes caused a collapse which had never been seen before in the racing world. nico rosberg's sister lost her close friend and childhood crush all because nico and lewis couldn't see eye to eye. but what happens when y/n rosberg comes into F1 after her brother's retirement and shows the world who she truly is? how will hamilton cope with another rivalry? will the two ever be able look past the silver war or will it truly be the end of it all?

multi part series!

leave a note! leave a like! (reblogs are appreciated)

comment to get added to the taglist!

[questionableratatouille00]

im gonna be honest cbs ghosts feels like a television adaptation of musical fandom’s Hamilton Crew x Reader fics where the Hamilton characters (historical figures) came to the future and lived with the reader

[jestersprivilegee]

Baby I’m Yours

m. de lafayette x reader

Warnings: swearing and not proofread writing

REQ: (anonymous) “Can you do one when the reader has something going on with Lafayette(or you can do Thomas idrm) and one night their friend group are all hanging out and the reader walks away to get a drink or smth and ends up flirting with this guy and Laf gets jealous so he confronts you after the event and it turns into a big argument and the group notices the tension so they lock them in a room (or smth like that) so they can makeup (sorry if this doesn’t rlly make sense 😭)”

In which your best friend, the man you’ve been in love with from the start, gets jealous at a bar over you.

Wc: 4.7k

It was obvious that you and Lafayette were madly in love with each other.

Obvious to everyone but you two, that is. Whenever anyone suggested that he liked you back, you’d dismiss it as him being friendly, or having a naturally flirtatious personality. You were just best friends, you’d claim, he didn’t think of you that way.

But everyone in the friend group knew for certain that he was yours and you were his. That’s just how it is.

And it’s not like you’re denying your little crush; the girls know about it. You openly talk to the Schuyler sisters about your infatuation whenever you get the chance. When you’d say you weren’t sure if his feelings were more than friends, they’d roll their eyes and insult your sight. But he was a naturally touchy person, he was like that with everyone! It was so confusing and so thrilling at the same time.

Whenever you hung out with him (which was almost every day), he had his hands lingering somewhere on your body; whether that be holding your hand, his arm wrapped around your shoulder or waist, and sometimes even resting on your knee. He invariably kept contact with you, every single time.

And every time his fingers brushed yours, it sent a jolt of electricity through you, butterflies and hope filling your stomach as if you were a teenager in love. Your cheeks would immediately warm, and oh god if he sent that dazzling smile your way. Instant butterflies.

Your mind raced while you put on a simple black dress and heels. The dress was a little revealing, but you felt pretty so it didn’t matter. As long as you could hold yourself with confidence, and as long as you genuinely loved how you looked, that’s all that’s important. While you did your hair and makeup, you thought of Lafayette and what he’d like. Of course you knew better than to dress up for a man, and you weren’t dressing up for anybody, but you did want to look nice to impress him. Is that really so wrong?

Lafayette promised to pick you up, which made you a little panicky and rushed. A text chimed on your phone, and you picked it up to see that he was five minutes from you.

You inhaled sharply, putting in earrings and wiping off the mascara on your upper eyelid. Finally, a thin layer of gloss tinted your lips, and you were done.

He texted you saying he was here, and with a quick ‘On My Way!’ you raced out your apartment complex. He was waiting outside to walk you safely to the bar. It was a relatively short walk, only about half a mile, and he left his car in the parking garage since he knew better than to drive drunk.

His face lit up at the sight of you, a wide grin spreading across his features as he scanned you up and down.

“Qui est cette belle femme? (Who is this beautiful woman?) You look gorgeous, amour,” he said, holding out his hand for you to take. He twirled you around, giggles escaping both of you in the process.

“Thanks, you don’t look half-bad yourself.” You elbowed his side, reconnoitering his shirt that had the top two buttons undone, revealing a hint of his chest.

“That’s the best you can give me?” He scoffed. You shrugged as you interlocked fingers and started walking to the bar.

“What do you want me to say? I can’t have your ego getting too inflated.”

“Well, a ‘you look handsome too, Lafayette,’ would’ve been nice,” he grumbled.

“Fine,” you sighed dramatically, “you look handsome too, Lafayette. Happy?”

He dropped the somber look on his face and grinned, nodding eagerly. You chuckled and shook your head, swinging his arm in a back-and-forth rhythm.

With Laf by your side, the fifteen minute walk felt like five. Time just seemed to fly by with him, conversation flowed naturally, and it probably helped that you had a big fat crush on him. Even the slightest squeeze of his hand made your stomach flutter and warmth shooting up to your cheeks.

When you arrived, he regrettably let go of your hand to open the door for you. You missed the comfort in his touch.

“Thank you for your chivalry,” you giggled. He rolled his eyes playfully and rested his hand on your lower back while in search of the rest of the crew.

The whole gang was there, minus Angelica and Peggy who seemed to have been running a bit late. John and Hercules had already started drinking, maybe a little too much. Alexander held back because he didn’t want to be a huge bother for Eliza, who didn’t drink alcohol.

“The lovebirds made it! Sit, sit,” John shouted, raising the glass in his hands.

You huffed, taking a seat from across them while Lafayette took one next to you. “Oh, shut it. How are you already slurring your words?”

“‘M not slurring my words,” he argued, slamming the glass unintentionally. You rolled your eyes.

“Sure you’re not, ami,” Lafayette said, his hand never leaving your back.

You ignored them as they started bickering back and forth, and turned to Eliza and Alex instead. “Hi Eliza, Alex,” you said. They smiled warmly, greeting you back immediately.

“It’s been a while. How’s being a journalist treating you?” Alex asked, taking a sip of his beer.

“Oh, y’know,” you waved your hands around, “pretty mediocre. I haven’t gotten any of the good assignments since I’m the new girl, but I’ll manage.”

“Awh, that sucks. I’m sure they’ll see your talent soon enough.” Eliza reassured sweetly.

“Thanks, Liza. You look beautiful, by the way. Blue has always been your color,” you sighed, glancing down at the simple blue dress she wore. She blushed and thanked you, commenting that you look beautiful as well.

Lafayette’s hand lifted from your back, and you glanced to see why. He had run off with John and Hercules, probably to get a couple more drinks. You frowned lightly, but shifted your gaze from the handsome man to the pretty woman in front of you.

“So, when are you and Laf gonna make it official?” Alex smirked, wiggling his eyebrows. Eliza bit back a grin as well, and smacked Alex’s hand.

“I—he doesn’t—we’re not,” you huffed, cheeks flushing with heat and embarrassment. “He doesn’t see me that way.”

Both of them rolled their eyes at that. “You’re kind of stupid, you know that, right?” Alex commented. Eliza hummed in agreement.

“Wha—Eliza! Don’t agree with him!” You gasped, feigning offense. A sly smile worked its way on her lips as she shrugged innocently.

“If the shoe fits.”

You narrowed your eyes at her. “You little traitor.”

“How am I betraying you? It’s simple observation. He’s been drooling over you for forever, and if you’re too stupid to realize that, it’s not my fault.” She crossed her arms, and her fiancé laughed, patting her back in support.

You muttered swears under your breath. “He would’ve said something by now if that’s how he feels.”

“Be serious,” she snorted, “he literally calls you amour.”

“Yeah, and you should hear the way he talks about you on the phone. He is..wow,” Alex chimes in. You blink, deciding not to ask for any elaboration.

“…So what? He calls everyone names in French.” You defend. “Doesn’t mean shit.”

“Yeah, but only ami. Amour is specifically reserved for you.” Eliza gave you a pointed look.

You opened your mouth to counter her, but no words came out. She was right; you were the only person Lafayette called amour or chèrie. But that didn’t mean anything, right? Even if he did like you in that way, who’s to say he wants a relationship with you? You’ve liked people before but haven’t wanted to date them. Maybe that’s how it is with you.

And that thought alone scared you, because you knew you wanted something with him, and if he didn’t reciprocate those feelings, you wouldn’t know what to do.

“Well…still,” you spoke hesitantly, “if he feels that way, then I’ll wait for him to say something.”

The pair sighed and shared a look. “That’s exactly what he said to me a week ago…” Alex muttered, just barely loud enough for you to hear.

Before you could respond, a pair of arms threw themselves around your shoulders. “Y/n! I haven’t seen you in forever!”

The sound of Peggy’s voice hit your ears, and you instantly smiled, swiveling to face her. Angelica waved to you before greeting her sister in a hug.

“I missed you too, Peggy,” you giggled, hugging her back.

She gave you a toothy grin, backing up from you and taking in your appearance. “You look absolutely hot, by the way. I might have to steal you from Lafayette.” She teased.

“Peggy!” You slapped her arm playfully. The rest of the boys were making their way over, Lafayette’s eyes specifically trained on you.

“The other sisters arrived! Finally, what took y’all so long?” Laurens slurred, his Carolinian accent seeping through his words.

Lafayette moved to your side, bumping arms with you. He gave you a charming grin that you shot back, habitually leaning into his presence. You locked eyes with Eliza who gave you a knowing look, as if to say ‘told you.’

“We just got caught up in traffic,” Peggy responded.

“Liar! Admit that you took two hours to get ready,” Angelica shouted.

The group quickly dissipated into laughter and chatter. While Hercules went on about a horror story from one of his most recent clients, you couldn’t help it that you were only half-listening. Lafayette’s hand on your knee prevented you from thinking clearly—or was it the alcohol?

Whatever reason specifically was irrelevant. All you knew is that he was doing that thing with his thumb where he rubs it back and forth, and he has the audacity to act focused on the conversation. Hell, he wouldn’t even look your way! It’s like what he was doing was completely subconscious. Almost an innate response to being near you.

He must’ve noticed your absence in conversation, because he turned to you with concern etched in his eyebrows.

“You okay, mon amour?” He asked.

Fuck, there’s that stupid nickname again.

“Yeah,” you lied, “just feeling a little nauseous is all.”

He frowned, leaning down so he could whisper in your ear. “If you want to leave, it’s your call.”

“We don’t have to leave,” you swallowed thickly. Was he seriously fine with stopping his evening just to take you home? “I’m just gonna go to the bathroom and refresh myself.”

“Okay,” his frown deepens. You excuse yourself from the setting and rush to the bathroom. His eyes lingered on you a moment more before Hercules snapped him out of it.

The bathroom light was broken. It flickered on and off, on and off in a rhythm that drove you insane. You stared into your reflection, a crisis happening in your brain. You knew why he made you feel this way, that was obvious. But you didn’t know why he kept playing with your feelings the way he does. You didn’t know if you drove him as mad as he drives you, if he stays up at night wishing you were next to him.

There was a random girl applying bright red lipstick. She must’ve noticed the distressed state you were in, because she broke the silence in the air.

“Worrying about a man?”

You blinked, mostly in shock that she was talking to you, but also because she was right. She waited patiently for your response, not looking you in the eyes, but instead focused on perfecting her lip combo.

“Uhh…yeah, how’d you know?” You shifted your weight, looking at her now.

“Woman’s intuition,” she replied. “You’ve got stress written all over you. I know a situationship when I see a girl alone in a bar bathroom.”

“What about you then? You’re alone in a bathroom, too,” you countered. Who was she to make these bold assumptions?

“Right, but observe the difference in our postures. Relax, babe. Breathe. Whatever is troubling you probably isn’t worth all the worry.”

“I—you don’t know anything about my situation,” you bit the inside of your cheek.

“Tell me or don’t tell me,” she shrugged. Finally, she turned to face you. You couldn’t deny her beauty; she wore a bold red dress and the exact same shade of lipstick to complement it. Dark curls fell past her shoulders, and she held herself with such confidence that reflected onto you.

“Fine. My best friend is with me, along with the rest of our friend group, and I can’t tell if he genuinely is into me or if he’s just playing some sick game.” You confessed.

She smiled in satisfaction. “Why do you think that?”

“Because he’s always touching me but he’s never actually admitted that he likes me or anything. He also calls me ‘amour’ and I’m the only person he calls that. And just before I left to come here, he asked if I was okay, and when I said I felt sick he offered to take me home.”

“It sounds like he does care about you. I think you’re overthinking the situation, sweetheart,” she crosses her arms over her chest and leans against the wall. The light flickers more. “You should go for it. And whatever happens is meant to happen. It’s your life, you’re able to change it at any moment. Take the first step even if it seems scary.”

“You’re right,” you sigh. “I should probably head back now. Thank you…” you trailed off, realizing that you don’t know her name.

“Maria,” she responds.

“Thank you, Maria.” You smile, “Y/n.”

“You’re welcome, Y/n.” She smiles back, watching you walk out of the dim bathroom.

After confiding in a random lady in a bathroom bar, you felt confident and ready to change your relationship status. You were tired of pretending to not want something with Laf knowing you wanted a real connection. You wanted something deeper, something intimate with the man you called your best friend.

“Y/n?” A familiar voice stopped you in your tracks. You turn, coming face to face with Aaron Burr.

“Aaron? God, how long has it been?” You smile, pulling up beside him. He was alone in the corner of the bar, far enough away to where you wouldn’t have been able to recognize him from where the group was sitting.

“Since sophomore year, I reckon,” he said.

Aaron Burr was one of the first new people you met in college. At one point, you thought that the man was into you, but a while of hanging out helped you realize he actually was just friendly. And he was loyal, too. His heart was set on Theodosia, and he would deny any woman who looked at him with the slightest bit of lust.

He was a reserved, composed man. Extremely stoic, extremely put together, and very polite. Burr seemed to enjoy a quiet life, hence why he chose the farthest spot away from your rowdy group. He also knew everyone somewhat-personally, although he was left on bad terms with Alexander. A little feud involving Thomas Jefferson led to the break of their friendship.

“How are things? D’you ever tell Theodosia how you feel?” You asked, resting your chin in your hands.

He holds up his left hand, the shine of a golden band making you gasp. You grab his wrist to inspect it, admiring the glimmer of love sealed in a single ring.

“Congratulations! Holy shit, Aaron, that’s amazing!”

“Thank you. I finally got the courage to ask her out, and this is where it’s led me,” he beams a true smile. “The wedding is set for a few months from now.”

You awh and rest a hand over your chest, playing with the dainty necklace. “That’s so sweet. I’m so happy for you, Aaron. I know you and Alex aren’t on the best of terms, but do you want to join us? Share a few drinks?” You offer.

“Thanks, but no thanks. Ever since you sat down, Lafayette has been glaring at me this whole time. It looks like he’s about to murder me,” he chuckles. You whip your head around to see Lafayette.

Laf looks away the moment you turn to spy him, pretending like he didn’t just get caught staring at you.

“Ignore him. He’s just protective, he probably doesn’t realize it’s you.” You wave your hand dismissively.

Burr gave you a half-hearted shrug. “I’ll take my chances. I was actually about to head out soon anyway.”

“What? C’mon, don’t let my friend scare you off. Drink with us!” You plead, leaning forward in your stool.

“No, no, seriously. I told myself I wouldn’t stay long, and it’s getting late.” Despite your efforts to convince him to stay, he denies every offer you put forth.

“Alright,” you frown. “It was nice seeing you, Aaron. Tell Theo I said hi! And again, congrats!”

You hop off your barstool, waving goodbye to him. He walks out the back way, probably to avoid confrontation with the guard dog eyeing the entire interaction you had with the man.

When you got back to the table, everyone was immersed in their own chats, not really paying much mind to you or even noticing your arrival. You plopped next to Lafayette again, but he ignored you, taking a long swig of his drink.

“I’m back,” you chirped.

No response.

“Laf? You okay?” You put a hand on his broad shoulder, wincing when you finally notice the scowl on his face. Your hand falls off his shoulder almost instantly.

“Perfectly fine,” he grunts.

“Whoa, what happened?”

“Go ask Burr, maybe he’ll ’ave an answer,” he snaps.

Okay, problem found. He was upset because you were talking to Aaron. Your stomach dropped and you had to stop yourself from saying something nasty.

“Why are you mad? C’mon, Laf, don’t be like this,” you scoff lightly, crossing your arms.

“Don’t be like what?” He mutters, being extra careful to keep his voice low so the rest of the group wouldn’t get suspicious. When his eyes flickered to yours, they didn’t hold the same playful tint like they usually did. Instead, they were darker, filled with jealousy and bitterness. You tensed.

“Like a dick. Seriously, you’re killing the mood,” you lowered your voice as well.

His jaw clenched and the grip on his drink tightened, and he stayed silent. Scarily silent.

“Lafayette! Which is better, the edge piece of brownies or the center? Because Hercules here thinks the center is the best when it’s not,” Laurens called him over, and he shot up, moving over to them.

You stared at him in shock. Is he really mad because you were talking with Aaron Burr?

“What happened? He looks pissed,” Eliza sounded from behind you. You flinched and swiveled around, mouth slightly hung open.

“I don’t know. I think he’s upset because I was talking to an old friend,” you reply.

“Uh-huh. And does this old friend happen to be a man?” She asks, taking a seat next to you.

You bite your lower lip. “Maybe. But it’s not like that! He literally showed me his wedding ring!”

“Does he know that?” She nods to Laf. You let your gaze linger on him a little too long, gripping the edge of your dress.

“…No. He shouldn’t be mad, anyways.”

“He’s not mad, he’s jealous. If he sees another man being touchy with his girl, he’s gonna get jealous,” she said.

Her usage of the words ‘his girl’ made your stomach flutter.

“So what do I do then?” You turn back to her.

“Give him a little bit of time to cool down, then talk to him. He’ll listen to anything you say, and he’ll believe it, too. That man would walk into fire for you. If you say there was nothing between you and the old friend, then there was nothing between you and the old friend.” She replies. “Who was it, anyway?”

“Burr,” you whisper. She nods, pursing her lips.

“I see. Wait, he’s married?”

“Engaged,” you correct.

She forms her mouth in the shape of an ‘O’ and lets out a tiny noise. You inhale sharply and glance back at Lafayette. He had his focus on the conversation before him, nothing else. Eliza gave you a reassuring smile and told you everything will be okay.

Then you thought back to Maria in the bathroom. ‘Take the first step even if it seems scary.’

Her words echoed in your mind. You needed to go for it like she said. But first, liquid courage.

You downed a shot and stood, strutting over to Lafayette and grabbing him by the arm. He gave you a confused look, but didn’t resist when you pulled him away from his friends.

“Could we go back to mine and talk? There’s things I need to tell you,” you bite your lower lip.

“I don’t want to leave yet,” he frowned.

“Okay,” you nodded slowly, “I’m gonna head out then. Goodbye, Lafayette.”

“Wait,” he stopped you from walking off. “I’m not gonna let you walk home by yourself. ‘Ts not safe.”

The urge to smirk tugged on your lips, and you fought it back. You both said your goodbyes to the rest of the group. Laurens shouts out ‘use protection!’ to which you both ignore before walking out.

There’s a tense, thick silence between you. It was almost palpable. The chill of the night air made you shiver, and he just barely pulled you closer to him.

“Lafayette,” you start once you see your apartment complex come into view. “Tell me the real reason why you’re mad.”

“‘M not mad,” he mumbled.

“So then, what is it? You’ve been acting weird since I got back from the bathroom.”

He didn’t reply. You neared closer and closer to the apartment.

“Lafayette?” You called out, impatiently waiting for a response. Anything, something. Even a squeeze of the hand would’ve been nice, but he was unresponsive.

“I just—“ he cut himself short, inhaling sharply. “I just don’t like when you flirt with other guys.”

“Okay, first of all, I wasn’t flirting with him—“

“But you touched him. I saw it,” he countered.

“Because he was showing me his engagement ring. Lafayette, the man is about to get married, I was just excited for him.” You snort. He falls silent once again, processing your words. “And why are you so jealous if I talk to another man? It’s like anytime somebody comes five feet within my vicinity, you become some overprotective b—friend.” You refrained from accidentally referring to him as your boyfriend, as much as you wish you could.

“I wonder, amour, I really do.” He sassed, rolling his eyes. The way he called you the pet name held weight to it, too.

“Stop it,” you growled. Both of you stood outside the building, nothing but the pale moonlight and broken street lamps illuminating you.

“Stop what?”

“Deflecting the fucking conversation! I’m trying to communicate with you here, and you’re not listening!” You finally snap.

He stares at you, wide eyes and shock written on him. It wasn’t often that you truly got pushed to breaking point, and you seldom swore at him. He didn’t know how to react, really. But god, you being mad at him did something to him words couldn’t explain.

“Y/n,” he spoke, voice low and gravely, “I ‘ave tried to make this as obvious as possible.”

“What?” You scrunched your nose in confusion. He wasn’t referring to everything everyone has ever told you, right? That couldn’t possibly be! Was he alluding to the very real feelings that plague his mind every time he’s near you?

“I think you know what I’m talking about,” he swallows hard, taking a step closer to you. The cold air nipped at his nose, making it flushed red.

“No, Lafayette, I don’t. So fucking tell me,” you seethe.

He sighs, murmuring something in French before cupping your face and smashing his lips against yours.

Ah. So that’s what it was.

Without hesitation, you kissed back. Your arms found their way to his neck, and one of his hands stayed on your jaw while the other moved to your lower back, pulling you in closer. Time seemed to have stopped at that moment. All passion and years of yearning were poured into one moment.

He may not have been your first kiss, but he was the first kiss that mattered.

When he pulled off, breathless and now kiss-drunk on top of alcohol-drunk, he looked ethereal. “I’m in love with you, amour, and I have been for so long,” he confessed.

Once again, frozen in time. He stared into your eyes, waiting for a reaction. When you didn’t, you could feel panic seep from him. He loosened his embrace on you and a regretful worry stirred on his features.

“Mon Dieu, I’ve messed everything up now, ‘aven’t I?” He swore, dropping his hands completely from you.

That’s all it took to snap you out of your daze.

“No! No, you haven’t messed anything up. Lafayette, I—“ you grabbed his hands again, pushing closer to him. “I feel the same way. I’ve loved you since the moment we first met, and this whole time I’ve been wondering if you felt the same.”

“Seriously?” He asked.

“Mhm,” you nodded, smile growing wider with every passing second.

“You’re saying we could’ve done this earlier?”

You laughed, shaking your head gently. “Maybe it was meant to happen at this moment.” You leaned in and kissed him sweetly, shorter this time. He smiled into it, and when you pulled off it only seemed to brighten.

“So can we make this official? You’ll be mine?” He asked with a hopeful squeeze of your hands.

“I’ve always been yours, Laf.”

—

“We should mess with them,” you said while riding the elevator up to Laurens’ apartment. It had been a week after you and Lafayette officially got together, and you both agreed to keep it on the DL for a while.

“‘Ow so?” He asked, intrigued.

“Well, they always pressured me into confessing to you. Maybe we can pretend like we’re still friends and just be extra touchy with each other,” you shrugged.

He grinned, eyebrows shooting up. “Let’s do it.” He held his hand out and you took it, interlocking fingers as you approached the door.

A few swift knocks for the door swung open, and Hercules greeted you with a loud welcome. “The lovebirds have arrived! Come in, come in,” he opened the door wider and you stepped inside. Everyone else already seemed to be there, laughing, drinking, eating, and having a good time.

Lafayette kept his arms around your waist the whole time, earning you looks from the Schuyler sisters and Alex. None of them knew they were being fucked with, and their reactions to it made it so much better.

While you all sat on the couch, scrolling to find a good horror movie to watch, you sat in between Laf’s legs, him holding you close in a comforting manner. Once again, Eliza shot you a knowing look, and you just shrugged.

Laurens and Hercules finally came to an agreement on watching Get Out, and somewhere in the first ten minutes, you got up to get a refill.

Naturally, Lafayette trailed after you to the kitchen. The moment you were both out of earshot and sight, you burst into fits of giggles. The rest of the group, however, had a more serious reaction.

“So we all agree we need to get them together soon, right?” Laurens spoke quietly. Everyone hummed in agreement.

“It’s agonizing watching them pine for each other,” Alex said.

“I’m gonna go talk to her.” Eliza got up.

“And I’ll talk to him,” Alex said, following her into the next room over where you and Lafayette were.

When they walked in, however, you were wrapped in each others arms in a kiss. They gasped, and you both scrambled off one another, a guilty smile forming on your face.

“What’s going on here?” Alex spoke, breaking the stunned silence.

You shared a look with Lafayette, smiling even wider than before and struggled to contain your laughter.

[that-damn-fouth-chaosemerald]

Did anybody thought of yandere! Thomas Jefferson from Hamilton?

Cause I did.

And I'm not afraid to write it.

And I will, eventually.

[kqzlqls]

A Special Day - T. Jefferson

TJ x Reader - Smut

notes: tj’s a lil slut for ya, alexander’s next (/j.. or maybe not?), how do you write southern accents!!!:!:!, there’s a fluffier version, i swear!

Oh, your poor, poor husband. He had returned from his work; being the Secretary of State. You knew how hard his job could get.

Thomas had slumped on the couch, his hands covering his eyes in exhaustion. “Fuck,” He whispered, his tone of voice not like the man you once knew.

You came over to him, sitting beside him. “Dear? What has gotten you so.. worked up?” You ask, holding his chin up for him to face you.

His eyes softy lit up when he saw you, gaze softening. “Nothing you need to worry about, darlin’.”

You pout, knowing he wouldn’t budge unless you executed an action plan. A bulb went off your head. Aha!

He lifts a brow, wondering what you’re planning to do next. He knows you’re going to do something.. out of the ordinary, to say the least.

— He’d been dealing with a certain Alexander Hamilton, issuing his debt plan into action. He was exxxHAUSTED, as you can.. already, probably tell.

“Come onnnn,” You pout, giving him the best you could possibly attempt to try to persuade him into telling.

“Oh, come on, darlin’. I don’t wanna worry you..” Your uncharacteristically tired husband held your hand.

“But of course, I would. I’m your partner, Thomas, I should know what’s going on so that I could..”

“..make you feel better.” You say with the most innocent tone, your hands traveling to his lap and caressing it.

His breath hitches. Fuck, he loved it when you tease him. It makes him feel.. safe.

“It seems like you’re enjoying the show already, Thomas.” You say as you kneel down on the floor, both hands caressing his inner thighs.

His eyes widen. He could feel his growing erection go hard. Fuck.. you just looked so.. alluring. It made him wanna—

His thoughts cut off as you unbuttoned his dark magenta pantaloons, revealing his undergarments. You could only remember how big he was—and it wasn’t even his actual dick—it was only his pants.

You take off the last of his clothing, revealing his long, thick, and hard cock.

“Let me treat you tonight, darling..” You say, putting his tip in your mouth. Your tongue swirls and licks his tip.

His eyes roll back as he groans, hips bucking up. His brown curls bounce as he writhed and shivers under your touch. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.. ah..” He groans.

You took him in deeper. His head went back, hands went down to his own thighs. You held his hand, squeezing it.

The contrast of affection made his brain go haywire. You weren’t even close to being done yet, taking him in deeper, but..

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.. ‘m close, love.. ah.. yes.. hmf..” Thomas whispered with a needy tone.

“Ah-ah-ah. Not yet.” You pull out.

He whines. “But.. love..”

“Nope. Nada. None.” You smirk.

You stroke his dick, slow.. sensual.. strokes. You notice the way his eyes roll back, holding back whimpers and moans. “Come on, darling.. more vocal?” You pleaded, purposefully putting on a more demanding tone, testing his reaction.

And boy, you were right.

“Mhh.. ah.. fuck.. ngh.. yes.. more..” Your husband groans, biting his lip in need.

“More? More what, dear?” You purposefully stop.

He whines again. “Darlin’.. please.. can’t take it..”

“Oh? You can’t? Okay, I’ll stop..” You turn away—but he grabs your hand. He looks at you in need, eyes practically glowing with lust.

“What?” You chuckle with mirth. “You said you wanted to stop..” You reason with him, earning a more whiny pout.

“Daaarrrliiin’..” He whimpers.

“Oh, fine..” You start again, this time—

Using your mouth.

Your pretty little mouth.. so good for taking him in. He can feel the pool of heat coming within him. You could tell, too.

“Darlin’..” He breathes out.

“You can cum.” Those words made him break.

He came inside your mouth, his cum flowing through your throat. His body shook with lust as you felt his juices stop.

You chuckle at his exhausted state.

“Aww, my little Tommy’s tired?” You get up, standing in front of him. You tilt his face up, your hand on his cheek. You could feel his sweat.

No response. Just a quick little whimper.

You chuckle.

“We’re not done yet, love.”