#alexander hamilton reader insert

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Would you consider writing for other team principals? If yes, who??

I think i would write for all the team principals. Accept for Christian Horner. I would write Reader Daughter Horner but no reader x Horner. I just am not a fan. Everyone else don't be shy to ask for a fic regarding the drivers or team principals.

[lostgravez]

I’ve come here to promote my books/fanfics!

I write on wattpad @LostGravez

I love to take requests! I’m currently working on my Hamilton book called “A Dance of Trance and mystery” [Prince Lafayette x reader]

And it’s truly really interesting! I suggest giving it a look as I’m currently working on it and have it planned 🩷

I also have other fandom books but it’s not my focus anymore right now.

I have a Hamilton oneshot book and a request book aswell!

HERES THE DESCRIPTION OF MY CURRENT WORK

Thank you for reading this post, 🩷

[nathaslosthershit]

The Main Event (Multiple Pairings) Part 1

Can be read as a standalone but also (Part 8 in the Blind Items AU A/N: Its my nineteenth birthday 🥳 I wanted to write about adults being happy in different stages of their life because I am so scared of growing up and the thought of not being a teenager next year makes me nauseous. Enjoy! Each pairing has a Blind Items backstory which is linked at the start of their section (You don't have to read the backstory, though) Multiple (separate) Pairings: Logan Sargeant x Leclerc!reader, Oscar Piastri x reader, Charles Leclerc x reader, Lando Norris x reader, Lance Stroll x reader, Lewis Hamilton x reader, Alexander Albon x reader Summary: A wedding between Logan Sargeant and the youngest Leclerc child means a very interesting guest list, in which all previous victims of the F1 Blind Items account are included.

Oscar Piastri

“Dude, how come you are more nervous about my own wedding than I am?” Logan asked.

Oscar rolled his eyes and scoffed, pretending what the American was saying was ridiculous, as he nervously picked at his nails, trying to hide his trembling hands. Logan just laughed at his friend's failed attempt at nonchalance.

“It’s just- I’m nervous about the media inserting themselves in the events today. I mean I don’t want to have my toddlers in the spotlight any more than they already are.” Oscar explained. After being forced to reveal his kids to the world before he nor his fiancée were ready, and after just a few interviews and racing events the kids attended, Oscar didn’t want to give the media much more for the time being.

“Wow, way to make my wedding about you.” Logan teased, trying to relieve the utter look of anxiety and despair on Oscar’s face. But the Mclaren driver just shot him an unamused glare. “Look, I have told you time and time again if you don’t want them as flower girls- or kids, I’d gladly make my brother frolick down the aisle throwing petals. As much as I love my honorary niece and nephew, nothing would make me happier than making Dalton do that.”

This finally got a laugh out of Oscar. “They have been practicing too much to do that, we would be in for a shit storm if you tried to take away their time to shine.” It had been a big thing in the Piastri household for the past few months. Every second of every day, Frances and Hudson had been asking their parents questions about what weddings were like, how they should walk down the aisle, and if they had to see uncle Logan kiss his wife (they were not amused by the idea of having to see that). Not to mention the hundreds of times they forced their parents to watch how they would walk down the aisle, asking what they thought and ignoring any criticisms given to them (they saw no reason as to why they shouldn’t be allowed to dance and sing while throwing petals). 

“Then calm down. If all goes well there won’t be any media there, I mean I think we have done a pretty good job at making sure no one outside the event knows about it. Plus, no offense but there are plenty of people with far more interesting stories and scandals than your family. The tabloids are bored with y’all now that there isn’t anything new to expose.” Maybe a harsh way of putting it, but it was true, there were plenty of Formula 1 couples who had been exposed by the media for various reasons in attendance today. 

“Right. Got to say, Logan, the guestlist is impressive. I mean could you imagine telling your 13 year old self that the Lewis Hamilton would be attending your wedding?” Oscar asked. Even after a few years racing against the guy, the shock from being around him never wore off. He just had that ‘greatest of all time’ energy.

“I can’t even take the credit for much of it though. It's the bride who brought all the biggest names.” Logan rolled his eyes playfully. It was true though, his wife-to-be had made friends with all the biggest names in the world and they weren’t half assed friendships either. She could make even the tiniest of acquaintances feel like longtime companionships. She could make everyone feel so unbelievably loved and cherished in such a short time.

God he couldn’t wait to marry her. 

Oscar laughed at the lovesick grin on his friend’s face. Usually he’d tease him, but he decided maybe he should just cut the man some slack on his wedding day. 

But the urge was too great he couldn’t let Logan go unteased, before he could do so though-

“Dad! Dad! Dad! Look, me and Fran match!” Oscar’s son, Hudson, ran into the room, his sister following after him.

The two seemed to light up in their soft blue outfits.

“Don’t you two look awesome!” Logan said from behind the twins, making them turn around. “You guys look better than me on my own wedding day.”

The toddlers shouted in excitement as they ran to their favorite honorary uncle (much to Lando’s chagrin. He fought hard for that title).

“You two ready to be the stars of the show? Throwing petals ain’t easy work.” He said as he crouched down to hug the toddlers.

Oscar rolled his eyes. Leave it to Logan to make his own children completely uninterested in him. Fortunately, someone who was actually interested in him entered the room after them. His wonderful fiancée.

“You look gorgeous, honey.” Oscar said awestruck.

“You saw me in this earlier.” She deadpanned. 

“Let a man compliment his fincée, will you?” Holding her close to him, kissing her deeply. It was only when the two weren’t cut off with toddler “ewws” and “stop grossss” that they looked back at their children, currently in a… dance competition with the groom. “Glad to see how much they care for us.” Oscar sighed, feeling childish jealousy. 

“Let him entertain them, he’ll get some more practice for when he has his own kids.”

“He’s too young, honey. He is about to get married, he doesn't need to think about that right now.” Oscar scoffed, feeling offended for his children that Logan would ever dethrone his honorary niece and nephew from being his favorite kids.

“Says the man who had two kids by 18 and has been engaged twice, but not married, by 23.” Honey amused.

He blushed at the reminder that their relationship had been done a bit… backwards.

“They already have an officiant and audience, maybe we can just jump in with the bride and groom, two birds with one stone.”

“Nope! I already have two Piastri’s taking the spotlight today, I don’t need more.” Logan said while both twins climbed all over him.

Charles Leclerc (And the Leclerc Co.)

Normally, hard launching your child was not something a bride would encourage on her wedding day, but as the youngest Leclerc child, Charles’ sister loved the drama. Hence why her nephew was making his debut to the public as the ring bearer. Only a month old, the media hadn’t gotten to meet the cutie as he was born right at the start of winter break. It brought tears to his eyes, how insistent his baby sister was on having her nephew involved in her wedding. It was already an emotional day for Charles, who felt like he was losing his first baby as he walked her down the aisle and sent her off into her future, but he truly couldn’t be happier.

And doing it with his son by his side just made it all the more memorable. 

“Honey?” Charles’ girlfriend called as she popped her head into the room he was getting ready in. In her arms was their newborn who, while still so small, broke everyone’s heart at how big he was getting. “Oh, my love, are you seriously crying again?” she asked as he tried to inconspicuously wipe away his tears.

Being reminded that he had just been crying only made him start to cry more.

“Charlie, you are more emotional than I was while pregnant. What is going on with you today?”

“It is stupid, I’m sorry. It's just- it was yesterday my sister was in my arms, having just been born, and now she is getting married and the American is taking her away.”

If there was one thing the Leclerc brothers loved to do, it was make fun of their soon to be brother-in-law. They truly did love Logan, but it was so easy to pick on him and he was far too polite to try anything with them yet. If you asked them, they would say they are just treating him like the brother he is, but they also just really love how much it pissed their sister off, who will certainly be defending him. 

“Oh, sweetheart, she isn’t going anywhere. They are still going to live in Monaco, and you race with her husband almost every weekend. If anything now that they are married you will see more of her.” 

It was true. Even if the Leclerc brothers had a strict ban on dating drivers, they had to admit that their sister had found a good partner in Logan. A man who was driving alongside Charles, had been on the same team as Arthur in the past, and knew just how important and difficult the sport was on family. 

Giving her boyfriend a quick kiss on the cheek after wiping his tears from his face, Charles’ partner went on to try and fix the mess of hair that her lover was currently fighting. 

The Leclerc’s had terrible bed heads, something that unfortunately had already been seen in the first grandson, even at just a month old his hair was thick and unmanageable. 

Fortunately, Charles had calmed down enough that he was no longer a complete mess when his brothers entered the room. If Charles knew anything about his brother’s (and his sister) it was that such tears would have led to him being teased for the rest of his life about it. 

“Have you seen her?” Charles asked Enzo, hoping for any indication on how their sister was doing, having been too busy setting up for the wedding and taking care of his son to check on the bride thoroughly.

Arthur rolled his eyes, “When we tried to see her, Maman wouldn’t let us in.”

“Why? Is something wrong?” Charles’ girlfriend asked, the same level of concern in her voice displayed accross Charles’ face. 

“No, no, the bride said she wanted to have a little moment with the four of us before the wedding, so she didn’t want us to see anything before.” Enzo explained. He had understood her sentiment, Arthur… not so much.

Letting out a breath at the confirmation that nothing was wrong, Charles sat quietly while he got his hair tamed, his brothers playing with their nephew in the back.

It was a sight that almost brought tears to Pascale’s eyes, but she had already cried so much and she knew she needed to save the rest of her tears for the ceremony. Her three boys, all in different stages of their lives, all dressed up and ready to support their baby sister on her big day. 

There was a sense of love and excitement in the air, reminding her of when her daughter had first been born, her older brothers hardly able to sit still while they waited in anticipation. Though everyone was calm now, having gotten most of their childish impatience out of their system, those feelings hadn’t changed. 

“Someone wants to see you all.” She spoke up, getting the attention of her boys. Charles’ girlfriend pressed a kiss to his cheek and took their son from his uncles, wanting to give the Leclerc siblings a moment alone. 

“My goodness, you look stunning.” She said to the bride as she walked through the doorway before leaving. This made all the brother’s perk up, losing the rest of their patience as they waited to see their baby sister.

The second she stepped into the room and tears welled up in everyone’s eyes, the Leclercs knew it was going to be a long day full of bittersweet melancholy, but also one so full of love.

Lando Norris

“Have I told you how wonderful you looked?” Lando asked, grabbing his girlfriend’s hand as he ran his thumb over her knuckles.

She rolled her eyes, “Only a thousand times since we got in the car. Not to mention when I was getting ready, when I was trying on dresses, or when I was simply speaking to you about what I was thinking of wearing.” She teased.

He knew it was overkill, but he also knew how stressed she was. Not about the wedding, she was excited to attend and celebrate, but of the fact she knew she’d finally be identified as Lando Norris’s “unremarkable” girlfriend the tabloids have talked about for a while. 

The media knew he was dating not a model, or heir to a fortune, or an influencer, but a “simple” teacher, one who had a private instagram account with hardly 100 people on it. They had seen what pictures Lando posted of her, maybe a few posted by friends, but they never showed her face. They didn’t even know her name.

Even though their words were harsh, even though it hurt they thought she was undeserving of him when they didn’t know her, the anonymity at least came with the sentiment that all their judgements came from one simple fact, that she was a teacher. Now, they would have more to criticize, more to know, and she hated the thought.

Despite the public not knowing about her though, she had still been able to become good friends with many of Lando’s. Had been present for many arguments between Logan and Lando as they defended their individual titles of being “the best honorary uncle” to the Piastri twins and had been there to help watch the toddlers so Oscar’s fiancée could get a bit of a break during races. 

She loved so many of the people there, and she knew they all had her back. Because of this, she felt more ready to face the music. She shouldn’t be ashamed of who she was, she loved everything about her life, and she wouldn’t be made to feel bad for loving Lando. 

In the end, it was what the two of them thought and felt about their relationship that mattered. 

Lando smiled as he watched her take a deep breath, ready for what was to come. He’d move heaven and the earth for her, and he for sure wasn’t going to let some idiots online ruin something so good.

Lance Stroll

“You must have the worst heartburn, huh?” A mutual friend of a friend, Marie, asked.

“Oh, well actually-”

“Ugh it was so bad! And the indigestion, that really sucked. Oh! Reminds me of this one awful stretch of time when I was pregnant. I was actually also at a wedding…” Marie started on a tangent about some pregnancy horror story. One the currently pregnant woman she was talking to, didn’t appreciate hearing at the moment.

Lance looked over at his wife, stuck in conversation looking pained. Fearing that something was wrong with her or the baby, he quickly made his way over with an excuse to whisk her away.

“Are you alright?” He asked once out of earshot of Marie. 

His wife opened her mouth to answer, but was unable to when a choked sound made its way out first. The sound attracted the eyes of several wedding guests, who upon seeing that she was pregnant, turned back to their conversations, finding that as the excuse for such an outburst. While she was embarrassed when all eyes turned to her, the lack of interest in her wellbeing after seeing her belly just made her start to sob even more.

Knowing his wife was in distress and clearly the crowded room was adding to the discomfort, Lance led her to an unoccupied hallway. 

“Come on, hun. How can I make this better?” Sweetness, with a bit of helplessness, in his tone.

“You-you can’t!” She cried. God, how was she ever supposed to explain what the hell was happening with her. Especially when each second, she felt differently.

Maybe that was the problem. 

 “I’m- I am so tired of being the pregnant lady.” She managed to get out.

Lance frowned at the confession. “I know, love. I can’t imagine what it's like to be pregnant, and I wish I could help. I know it sucks, but you can get through-”

“Stop! That's the problem. Every single issue I have is written off as something that just happens with pregnancy. Like they are just side effects that can’t be helped! Like I just need to deal with them alone because “I signed up for this”. Maybe it sounds stupid or childish but I don’t give a fuck anymore, Lance. I don’t want to be treated like some pregnant lady, I don't want to be treated as if every single emotion I have is just because of hormones or because all women are just expected to suffer through this! Marie just came up to me and started talking about her own horror stories from when she was pregnant! I don’t want to hear that, not when she isn’t giving actual advice, just trying to laugh about things I, as the currently pregnant person, don’t find funny! I don’t want to talk about how I am so hungry and have people laugh and say ‘oh that's just what happens’. I want to get food! I want to be able to be upset without people losing interest the second they realize it's just the pregnant lady crying. I want the things I'm going through to be taken seriously, Lance.”

A beat of silence as he took in her words. 

As the silence stretched on though, she found herself with an apology forming on the tip of her tongue, feeling bad for yelling at her husband during her tangent when, even if he had contributed to the problem, he didn’t really do anything wrong. 

Just as she opened her mouth though, he got on his phone. 

She started to not feel as bad as she watched her husband seemingly ignore all she said.

“Are you-” She began, just to be cut off by him putting his phone in his pocket, and kissing her deeply.

Most of her anger seemed to disappear at that moment. He hadn’t kissed her like that in what felt like forever. Since she had told him she had been pregnant, he had been unsure of how to go about doing… well, anything. 

After a few passionately blissful seconds, he pulled away, still holding her face between his hands and stroking her cheek with his thumbs. “I ordered a car to take us to a crappy fast food place.”

She stammered, “What do- why?”

“You said you are hungry, the ceremony hasn’t even begun yet, we are going to be here for a while before we can eat and while I’m sure the bride and groom have an amazing set up, there isn’t a point in making you suffer any longer when we can fix it.” he explained.

She didn’t know what to say. She wanted to agree, but she also wanted to support their friends and knew she probably shouldn’t skip out on their wedding day. But she really needed something to eat and her feet were killing her already- 

“No, Lance, we shouldn’t it- it would be rude.” She answered.

Lance laughed at her attempt at trying to convince both herself and him. “As much as I’d love to stay, I’d much rather watch you eat a disgusting amount of fast food in an impressively short amount of time all the while dressed to the nines. Plus, we both know the bride and groom would be understanding.” He said as he grabbed her purse and opened the door for her. “After you, my love.” 

She sighed, realizing he was right. 

“Oh how gentlemanly of you,” she teased in a posh accent. “Is it often you whisk away distressed damsels to fast food restaurants?” 

“Only the gorgeous ones. I did earn my nickname of Sir Lancelot from my wife for a reason.” He teased back.

“It seems you have.” She replied with a kiss on the cheek.

Lewis Hamilton

“Oh, sweet pea. You look stunning!” Lewis said as he facetimed his daughter, currently at home with her mom.

The young girl giggled at the compliment, asking her dad about the wedding. She had been more than curious about weddings lately after hearing that her dad was attending one. 

“-and the bride wears a beautiful white dress”

“Like the one mommy is wearing?” she asked her dad, pointing to the oversized t-shirt her mom was wearing with paint stains on it from when she and her partner had painted the nursery for the 1 year old currently asleep in said room. Lewis laughed at the image.

“While I am sure your mommy could wear that and still be the most beautiful girl in the world. A wedding dress is a little… different.” Lewis answered.

“Mommy! Can I see your wedding dress?” her daughter asked.

Both parents froze at the question, realizing they might have not told their child a pretty important detail about her parents. 

“Oh- honey. Daddy and I never got married.” She answered. Her daughter looked back at the phone, at her dad, confused.

“Dad? Why didn’t you marry mommy? Don’t you love her?” 

Harsh. Lewis didn’t know how to answer such a question, but he eventually found the words. 

“Sweetheart, you know I love your mom very much. You are all my most favorite girls. Some people just don’t get married, they don’t feel the need to.” He answered. It wasn’t that the two of them didn’t want to, they had planned on it. But their first daughter had been unplanned, then their second had been too, and eventually, as they became everything to one another, they didn’t have a wedding so high on their priority list, knowing the proof of their love was evident in the two girls they were raising, in the life they had built together despite many unwanted opinions trying to ruin it. 

“Let me talk to your dad sweetie. Can you grab my water from the living room?” His girlfriend asked as her daughter handed her the phone and jumped off the bed.

After the sound of the young girl’s footsteps softened in the background, she spoke up, “Sorry about that, Lew, she saw a photo of some celebrity wedding today and her interest in the topic was reignited.”

“She is a curious kid, I get it. She is a smart one too, she gets it from her mother.” He watched his girlfriend blush at the compliment. Even while tired having to take care of the two young children alone, she seemed to be glowing. “We never did get around to marriage, did we?” 

She sighed, “I guess we got too busy. I hadn’t even thought about it in a while- not that I don’t want to marry you still!”

He laughed at her realization she may have chosen her words wrong, “No, I haven’t either. Two kids is a lot, and we both know how we feel about each other. But I will always be ready to marry you, the second you say so.”

“Well, I’ll always be ready to marry you, after you properly propose. You already got two kids out of me, I at least deserve a big flashy ring.” She teased.

“And you shall have it my love.” Lewis suddenly heard his daughter coming back. He spoke up when he saw her pop back up on screen, “What do you think, love bug? Should mommy and daddy get married? I think your mom would look beautiful in a big white dress, right?”

The little girl perked up at that, “Yes! But, will it be hard for mommy to wear a dress with the baby in her tummy?” She asked, pointing to her mom’s stomach.

Both adults froze. 

Slowly, Lewis’ girlfriend let out a deep sigh. “Baby, I told you not to talk about that with daddy till we could tell him…”

If his eyes opened any wider, they would have popped out of his head. “She’s serious? We are having another baby?”

“Surprise? I wanted to keep it a secret till you came back and make it all special but she was so sad when you left I told her to cheer her up.”

Lewis’ heart softened at the thought, “Well, I guess a wedding might have to be postponed for the time being” He amused.

They’d get around to it, maybe after this next kid, maybe after the next few.

Alexander Albon

Things had been… awkward for Alex and his girlfriend the past few days. After what started off as an innocent inquiry from a friend about the couple's plans for marriage in conjunction with Alex’s attending the wedding of his teammate, it seemed like there were some conversations the two needed to be having.

They had been together for years, longer than the current bride and groom had known each other. Longer than a lot of couples either engaged, married, or with kids had been dating. 

But there was still no ring.

It hadn’t been a problem before. They had talked about getting married, casually talked and joked about “when they had kids”. But those topics hadn’t been seriously considered for a while now. Like a hangnail that hurt every time it brushed against something, even though it would be so much better to just rip it off quickly and let it heal, neither Alex nor his girlfriend seemed to be able to broach the subject. 

They sat silently in the car, driving to the venue, painfully aware of what the other was thinking about. 

Did Alex not want to marry her? After so many years, maybe he just has never seen marriage as something he needed, plenty of couples decide not to get married. But wouldn’t he tell her if he didn’t want to ever be married, instead of letting her wait and wait and wait? Especially when he knew she wanted to get married- did he even know she wanted to get married? Did she even know if she wanted to get married? They lived together, their lives intertwined with one another, maybe they could just have a civil partnership. But that didn’t sound right in her mind. What if-

Her spiralling was interrupted when Alex turned on the radio, at full volume. Both wincing at the noise, he turned it down a little, letting the song fill the crisis filled air between the two. 

It helped a little, at least they could pretend they were both listening to the music instead of what they were actually doing, questioning their relationship. 

As the song ended, a radio talk show came on, one about elderly folks giving life advice. “Aw I love this, it always has sweet stories.” Alex said, trying to break the tension. 

“Here we have Violet with us! Now everyone, Violet got married for the first time about a year ago to her longtime partner, Vance. Both were 83 years old and had put it off for a long time, thinking they had been too old, but following a terminal diagnosis Vance was given, the two decided to go for it. Now a year later, Violet is here with her update. Violet, how are you doing today?” The host asked. The couple in the car stiffened, of course this is the topic. 

“I am doing well, thank you. Today is a special day, it would have been Vance’s 84th birthday, and I can say that while it is hard not to be with him, I have all my love for him and the love I knew he had for me to keep me going.”

“I am sorry to hear about his passing, Violet.” The host somberly said.

“Oh that is alright, I actually arranged to call back in because I recently received our wedding pictures, and looking at them reminded me I wanted to update the good folks that listen. While we knew Vance would pass soon after the wedding, I am so happy to have these photos to keep with me now that he is gone. We had written off marriage because we had both been ‘too old’ in our opinions. Neither of us had gotten married to our past partners before, so we didn’t feel the need now. While I don’t believe marriage is best for everyone, some folks just don’t need it, I can say for certain that being surrounded with family and loved ones as Vance and I celebrated our love, especially when we knew death would soon part us, I believe it was the greatest decision of my life. Vance knew I would be with him no matter how long he gave me, and that I would take on the grief if it meant I knew I truly loved and was loved. I really believed that comforted him in the end, and that alone comforts me. We were only married for about three months before he passed, but he will remain my husband till I eventually join him. And I couldn’t be happier for that.” Violet said, a mix of emotions filling her voice.

She turned off the radio before they could hear any more. 

Silence again filled the car- well apart from Alex’s sniffles. 

She turned to her boyfriend, who was driving while trying to wipe his tears without her seeing he was crying.

“Are- Alex are you okay?” she asked, concerned. 

“Yeah, no it's- yeah I'm good.” He unconvincingly replied. Suddenly, he slammed on the breaks, almost missing a stop sign, distracted by his tears. “Shit- I’m sorry I didn’t see-” 

She couldn't make out his words over the sobs. Fortunitally, he had enough of a sound mind to pull over before he could danger them more. 

Alex turned to his girlfriend abruptly, “I want to marry you. I want to marry you so badly and I know marriage has always been jokingly discussed between us, but I need to know you also want to marry me. I don’t want to wait till we are 83 and I am dying. I don’t want to wait another year, to be honest. So please just tell me if you aren’t-” She cut him off with a kiss, her own tears mixing with his. “Are you proposing?” She half-joke- half-sobbed. 

“Yes, fuck yes I am.” Instead of answering him, she just kissed him, again, just as passionately as the first. 

“We can’t tell Logan we got engaged the day of his wedding.”

Logan Sargeant

Bridesmaids on one side, Groomsmen on the other, the officiant and Logan in the middle.

Logan had memorized the order in which everything would go. He stood anxiously in front of a crowd of people, full of friends and family, as well as some of his idols since he was a child. People he still felt had no reason to even know his name, much less attend his wedding. 

Next came the Piastri twins with petals in their baskets. They took a few confident steps till they realized just how many people were looking at them. Then in an instant, the weeks of preparation for their big moment went out the window as they both stood there, frowns on their faces. Logan’s heart broke a little at how shy they had suddenly gotten.

Maybe he really should have had Dalton take their place. 

After a few moments the twins still didn’t move. Logan was about to make his way down the aisle to them, but his brother-in-law-to-be, Charles, stepped through the entrance to get to them, holding his newborn, who was acting as the ring-bearer despite being a month old and currently asleep. Charles crouched down between the two toddlers, whispering something no one else but the two of them heard, causing shocked but excited looks to replace the shy pouts. 

The toddlers each stood on the side of Charles and his sleeping child, throwing petals with renewed excitement. By the time they reached the end, Logan crouched down to give them each a hug, getting a kiss on the cheek and ‘good luck, Lo Lo’. Charles passed the rings to Dalton, the best man, and answered Logan’s questioning look with a quick explanation, “I told them my son was very nervous about walking down the aisle and I hoped they would walk with him. I also said you’d give them candy after.” 

Logan rolled his eyes, happy Charles had looked out for his honorary niece and nephew, but annoyed he now had to find candy for the toddlers unless he wanted a tantrum to end all tantrums at his reception dinner. 

The second the bride stepped down the aisle, her mom by her side, Logan forgot what he was worried about before. Suddenly, seeing his fiancé in her dress, glowing in a way that could only be explained by magic, Logan knew nothing in his life had ever felt so right. 

He had to stop himself from kissing her as she stood in front of him, only half listening to the officiant. He didn’t care about all the famous people in the crowd, didn’t care about how miserable he was at Williams, didn’t care about all the shit he got from fans, didn’t care about anything but the woman who was in front of him. 

In a flash, vows were exchanged, ‘I do’s were said, and he was kissing his wife and then running down the aisle. 

Everything was so good.

[littlesistersti]

3/3 } Self-insert OCs / personas tend to date the author’s anime crush …

and yet that only happened once for Stine Køhler.

Continued from here. [word count 691]

Syke! AU where the timeline continued more! or we skip past all of that straight into Twisted Wonderland. Either or works. The former allows for 3 types of magic so there’s that. She is a Ramshackle student with Yuu + Grim and gains income as tutor. At some point in the AU, I created an alternate route where she was never a student but actual staff, where she lived in Ramshackle and worked as Teacher Assistant to all 5 of them, rotating schedule.

Ah finally. She should be mature enough by now, after retiring her Avengers and Decepticon life. She should be 19 or 20 by now. Here is where I tell you my faves are Leona Kingscholar and Jamil Viper, plus Deuce Spade and Sebek Zigvolt. The freshmen are my sons and I cherish them. I read some Leona x reader and hey, that’s my husbando and waifu rolled into one. I don’t have an anime crush on Leona, I have an anime infatuation and obsession and *shot*

>> Stine sees Yuu + Grim as a good roommate and repays them with magic help. Never intrudes on their friendship with Ace and Deuce but sometimes pops in. They surprise her at tutoring sometimes. Surprise her as in attend sessions.

>> When she saw Sebek’s devotion to Malleus, she saw a bit of her past self in him. The more she interacted with him, the more she felt obligated to protect this child. She’ll eventually come around to Lilia and Malleus to express such.

>> She threw herself in front of Jamil so his Unique Magic wouldn’t harm Yuu + squad in Ch. 4 and that was it. Ok, but seriously, when Octavinelle trio discussed with her and Yuu + Grim the mind control magic, she told them it’s nearly impossible in her world. Only because younger her was a law-abiding magician who wouldn’t dare touch the dark stuff with a 9 ft pole, and also because Norway said it’s expensive. Anyways, she got hit by Wanda Maximoff (Age of Ulton) and hit again by Jamil? Not a fun ride. She stayed away from him for a month.

>> When Alexander Hamilton and Aaron Burr sang, “We keep meeting” in Hamilton. Stine delivered a message to Leona for the first time, ran an errand and saw him in the same room, did her reading up in the trees and how long was he napping under me? I didn’t see him a second ago, crashed into him rushing to class, spilt a hot beverage on both of themselves in the canteen and much to her embarrassment, had to treat this Dormleader of Savanaclaw and upperclassman before treating herself and has the burn mark to prove it. Yeah, I don’t know how but they ended up dating. A normal relationship at that. None of the one-sided thing or strangers or co-worker mutual respect. They see each other as equal baby-adults.

>> He permits her access to Savanclaw dorm. She falls asleep in the common hall from studying with the midnight oil. She confesses to him about her jet past and itch to fly again. He permits her to fly the Savannaclaw firmament. For the first time in a long time, she reactivates her jet and takes off, no identity attached.

Honestly, there is so much more to say but I’ll have to make a new post, because this could go on forever. Bonus: she’s on good or neutral terms with the staff but not like she does anything to get on their bad side. She’s a retired Avenger and retired Decepticon after all. Imagine going to a magic school as your swan song. Lilia and Stine would totally bond over being war vets or plain ol’ veterans, but it’ll be quite awhile before they meet. The day he and Silver learns of her family (technically adopted by near immortal dudes while looking 20-30 year old… yeah) it’s all over for them 3 and everybody else.

& that is how Stine is only dating 1 person and it’s a semi-canon timeline with a camping backpack load of lore. Feel free to send some asks, but don’t abuse it.

[obiwan824]

A Week- Poly! Hamilsquad x Reader x Southern! Democratic Republicans

A/N: The project that’s taken weeks to write, it’s finally done! This is just a little bit of a preview of a series I want to write? Kind of a prequel or introduction? But this took me so long, hope you enjoy!

Monday

“I’m home,” Y/N called, kicking off her shoes and dropping her bag by the door. She swung off her coat and hung it on the hook, smiling as one of her boys appeared around the corner and held out his arms. Snuggling into Herc’s chest she finally felt at home.

“Hi, baby,” he whispered.

“Hi.”

He leaned down and kissed her softly, cute and gentle and sweet. He looked at her with so much adoration that she felt her cheeks heat up the tiniest bit. Laf walked over and joined the hug with a grin. She separated from Hercules and kissed Lafayette’s cheek.

“How was work?”

She let out a huff. “More gossip, more rumors, more writing to be done.”

Alex laughed, coming through the front door behind her and kissing both Laf and Herc’s cheeks. “Don’t I know it.”

John was last, practically running around the corner and into his girlfriend’s arms. “BABY GIRL!”

“John!” she said, teasing him with the same amount of enthusiasm and kissing him. “Get any sketches done?”

He smiled proudly and showed her his colorful hands. “Paintings, actually.”

“I hope you didn’t do it on my desk again.” Y/N groaned playfully. When he looked down sheepishly she frowned. “John, you promised!” When he kissed her again, she shook her head. “Fine, just clean it up, ‘kay?”

“Anything for you, baby girl,” he announced, kissing her one more time before moving on to Alex.

Laf pulled her back against his chest. “I do love having you here, mon cheri.”

“It’s great to be here, Laf.”

“Then don’t leave!” John said, bouncing a bit. Y/N giggled as Alex nodded.

“Yeah, don’t go back to Thomas, he doesn’t need you, we do!”

“Aw, Alex,” Y/N teased, leaning over and kissing his cheek. “Can’t leave my other boys alone- but, for tonight, I’m yours.”

 Tuesday

Thomas held her close against his chest. “No, I don’t wanna share you!”

“Baby,” Y/N cooed, raising an eyebrow and smirking. “Don’t you want to see Aaron and Jemmy?”

Thomas frowned. “Fine. But we better not run into Hamilton on our way out.”

She stood up and brushed off her legs with a scowl. “Thomas, you know I need to check on Alex before I go.”

He sighed dramatically as he stood and kissed her cheek. “I’m not going to talk to him.”

“I didn’t expect you to,” Y/N said with a giggle and lacing her fingers with his. Thomas slung her work bag over his shoulder and held her stack of books and papers with his free hand. Y/N had a brown paper bag clutched tightly in her hand. She stopped at Alexander’s office, letting Jefferson stand off to the side, and rapped lightly on the door.

“Come in,” Hamilton called. She entered with a smile. “Y/N, darling!”

She set the bag on his desk as he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her for a moment. He laid his forehead against hers and kissed her once more, hands roaming her body. She playfully pushed him away.

“Alex, it’s not your day,” she sang. Alex rolled his eyes before she handed him the bag. “Here.”

“A present?” he teased, quirking an eyebrow and beginning to open it.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “A meal. I know you, you won’t be home until midnight and by the time you finish writing you wouldn’t have had time to eat, and it’ll be too late. I made your favorite.”

He smiled at the Tupperware and kissed her again. “Thanks, sweetheart. Love you. Are you going to check on John?”

She nodded. “Yep, if Thomas stops acting like a child.” She raised her voice at the end, making sure Jefferson could hear her.

“HEY!” he called back to them.

She kissed Alex one more time before walking away. “See you tomorrow.”

“Bye, darling.”

Y/N walked out the door, giving him one last look, reminding him to eat his meal, and closed the door. Thomas had his arms crossed and was wearing a pout.

“You didn’t say you’d be in there for that long!”

“Come on, we still have to give John his meal, then we can go home.”

Jefferson groaned but gave no protest. After checking up on Laurens, Y/N and Jefferson got in the car. Thomas placed all of her things carefully in the back and slid into the driver’s seat, squeezing her hand. Once home, he parked the car in the garage and grabbed her bag.

“I can carry that, you know,” Y/N told him, stepping into the elevator with their fingers laced.

Thomas rolled his eyes as the elevator rose. “I only get to see you every other day, darling, I’m not letting you work hard while I’m around.”

She smiled and took out her keys, holding open the door for her boyfriend, making him frown at her briefly before entering.

“James!” Thomas exclaimed happily, setting down the bag and stepping into Madison’s arms. Y/N grinned at them before walking towards James and pulling him away for a moment to hug him.

“Missed you, sweetheart,” James said softly, pulling her into a small kiss. “Are you staying the night?”

She smiled. “Yep, don’t want to miss an opportunity to talk with my favorite boy.”

“You tell that to all your boys,” someone else said with a teasing tone. Y/N turned around and walked into Aaron’s arms, kissing his cheek as he wasn’t one for lots of physical contact.

“Yes, but I only mean it with you,” she cooed, rubbing his back and snuggling into his shoulder. Thomas and James quickly joined in, not wanting to be left out. Cuddled between three of her boys, there was no place she’d rather be.

Wednesday

“Wednesday’s movie night,” Hercules called, stepping into the apartment with arms full of movies. “We have one each of everyone’s favorites, we don’t have time for everything, we’re watching 2 movies so get your arguments ready!”

Alex jumped up from the couch. He had previously had Y/N’s feet on his legs as she sat in John’s lap, but he quickly pushed them off so he could begin to scream. “We have to watch The Little Mermaid!”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “You love that movie more than you love me!”

John rubbed her shoulders and kissed her neck from behind. “He doesn’t love the movie, N/N, it’s Ariel he’s in love with.”

“Great.” she chuckled. “That’s better.”

Laf entered through the door behind Herc, carrying 3 large boxes of pizza. He set the food down and smiled, coming into the living room and holding out his arms.

“I’m home, mon cheris!”’

John jumped off the couch and barrelled into Laf’s arms. “Please don’t let Alex choose The Little Mermaid again, Laf, don’t you love me?” Laurens gave his best puppy eyes.

“Aw, mon amour, it’s beyond my control!” Lafayette kissed the top of his head and opened his arms to Y/N. She stepped into them, putting her arms around his neck and kissing him sweetly.

“Glad you’re home,” she whispered into his hair.

“Glad you’re here,” he replied softly, kissing her again.

“But please, Laf, don’t let him choose again!”

Gilbert laughed. “I’ll do my best.”

Thursday

“Where are we going?”

Thomas pulled Y/N more tightly against his chest. “Well, we can do Chinese, Japanese, Thai, Indian, Mexican, Italian- or we can just run to the store and get another frozen meal.”

Y/N shifted a bit in his lap. “Okay, and when is Aaron coming home?”

“Answer my question and I’ll answer yours.” Thomas poked her nose, making her pout. After she gave him her dinner order he kissed her. “Aaron will be home any minute, and James should be up from his nap soon.”

Sure enough, only a few moments later Madison wandered out of the bedroom and came into the living room. He smiled at the two.

“Thanks for letting me rest, I feel much better.” James sniffed and settled next to them on the couch. Thomas took his hand and Y/N leaned over to kiss his cheek. Madison frowned. “Y/N, you’ll get sick!”

“And I’ll have you to take care of me,” she finished, kissing him on the lips.

“I’m home,” Aaron called, walking in. “I brought home enough ingredients for Thomas to make mac and-”

“MAC AND CHEESE!” Thomas exclaimed, shaking Y/N a bit. “Guys, Aaron is my favorite person ever!”

Y/N rolled her eyes and got off of Thomas, kissing Aaron’s forehead. “What have I told you about spoiling the children.”

“Sorry, darling,” Aaron replied, smiling.

Friday

She snuggled into Herc’s chest. “I don’t wanna go to sleep.”

He kissed the top of her head. She smiled as John rubbed her shoulders. “Why not, sweetheart?”

“‘Cause tomorrow I have to leave you again.”

“Yeah,” Alex piped up from John’s other side. “Why not stay?”

Laf smiled. “Come on, mon amour.” He reached for Y/N’s hand and squeezed it over Hercules. “Then you get to go and hang out with Thomas and James and Aaron!”

She grinned back. “Yeah. And then Sunday I’ll be back. Okay, goodnight.”

Saturday

“You shouldn’t snuggle with me, Y/N,” James reminded his girlfriend, watching with a fond smile as she moved closer to him.

“You’re always sick, cuddling has never killed me before!”

Madison shook his head. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Aaron came in shortly, finding his spot at Y/N’s other side and spooning her. “Goodnight. Thomas will be in soon.”

She rolled her eyes. “He’s almost as bad as Alex, I doubt he’ll be here at all.”

“You have so little faith in me!” Jefferson piped up, coming in with an easy smirk on his face. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

Sunday

She took the pregnancy test between her hands, studying it slowly. She felt her vision go a bit blurry, her world crashing around her.

It was positive.

[urvenicebtch]

Union

-----groom!Bucky x bride!reader

Summary: Literally just a wedding dance fluff that I've had in my head for months

A/N: This part of Satisfied from the Hamilton soundtrack gives me butterflies so have this fluff that I see in my head every time I hear this part of the song<3 (play the audio as you read) Also, sorry that it’s so short, it’s all my fun-sized brain can put together.

Warnings: Literally none, xo

In the middle of the floor, you stand, held close by Bucky. The details of the end of your wedding dress graze the polished floor as you step from side to side, anticipating the peak of the song.

To the groom! (To the groom, to the groom, to the groom...)

You and Bucky take big, graceful steps to the left before spinning around. The shine of your eyeshadow sparkles under the warm yellow light hung from the ceiling.

To the bride... (To the bride! To the bri-i-i-ide, bri-i-i-i-ide...)

Bucky lifts you by your waist and spins around, smiles painting your love-lit faces. He lowers you and holds you close as you both circle the floor with your steps.

To your union! (To the union, to the re-vo-lu-tion!) And the hope that you provide! (You provide, you pro-vi-i-i-i-ide!)

Bucky holds his hands firmly on your waist as the two of you twirl to the timing of the lyrics.

May you always (always)... be satisfied...

[moosoobi]

I see you’ve made a stop at the train station.

Where are you headed?

Status of train station:

On and off writing???

Early for your train?

(contact me, I swear I have nothing better to do)

Destination?

(Masterlist)

Hamilton

—short stories—

Bon Appetite — T.Jefferson

—series—

In the Night — T. Jefferson

Battle Royale — G. Lafayette

coming soon?

Searching for something?

(Request!)

My intentions for this blog

SFW content! Not really my specialty or in my comfortability to write NSWF.

I’m not a full time writer! on the contrary, I’m a collage student. I try to write on my free time, so please be patient.

Please don’t take me seriously. I’m a teenager, I say dumb things with little intent.

I just want to make people smile :) I hope my writing, commentary, and/or shenanigans make your day a little better.

(I do not own these images!!)

[bugsy-maria]

Run away (Philip x Reader) Ch. 8

(Y/N)'s POV

-6-YEARS-LATER-NEW-YEAR-TIME-

1794

I leave my room on the second floor.

I'm wearing a lightweight dress with a shawl. in case you're wondering what happened since the last chapter Philip and I didn't do anything. he fell face-first into the mud. we write to each other since Mr. Jefferson took me back to Virginia. he told me to call him Mr. Jefferson. Sally and he got into an argument about what to do with me. I am now a long term guest that helps out the cleaning or other chores.

Right now its December 30th 1794. the Hamiltons and others are expected to come by for dinner and to start the new year off right. it seems as though Jefferson has a heart.

.

.

.

just kidding! Hamilton is considering resigning and Jefferson wants to help out with that. just imagine... Thomas Jefferson with a soft spot for the Hamiltons. funny. Mr. Jefferson just wants an excuse to screw Hamilton over.

I go to the kitchen where Sally is and help with the dishes before I steal a biscuit and scurry off to my room to wait until Philip gets here. I reread the letter he sent me 5 months ago saying that he is coming over for dinner in December. he told me about his adventures in boarding school and how his father is doing. I always respond the second I'm done reading the ink on his letters.

-TIME-SKIPO-

it's not until dusk that the sound of a horse and buggy on a dirt road catches my attention (Did anyone else know that they are called a coach, am I the only American that refers to them as buggies??? I think so). I swiftly leave my bed to look out the window next to it. I see the buggy come to a stop.

I race out of my room and down the narrow as hell staircase not caring if someone was going up it or not. I get to the entrance where Jefferson is standing there with Burwell Colbert who was walking outside to greet the guests.

"Is it the Hamiltons, sir?" I asked looking at him while my hands fidgeted in the back.

"Yes. when they get here show the children to the empty guest rooms." he didn't look at me only at the door. when it opened again the short man from 6 years ago came in with a woman and 5 children one of which I recognised. I held in my excitement as we have kept our contact secret.

"Hamilton."

"Jeffershit."

"Alexander!" the woman covered the ears of the child on her hip. the other children ooh'd at him as though he was in trouble.

"(Y/N) may you show the kiddos their rooms." Jefferson assigned me while squinting down at hamilton and hamilton giving the death glare up at Jefferson. I mentioned for the children to follow once the woman let the little boy down.

we all made out way up the narrow staircase with me in the front. the first room from the staircase on the left was the first guest room.

"This will be your room, but there are only 4 beds." I opened the door that led into a plain medium-sized room with 4 beds, two on each side with a window and dresser in the middle.

"I call my own room." Philip claimed as he pushed his siblings into the room.

"What? that's no fair." a girl who looked to be around the same age as than me said.

"Yes it is. I'm older therefore I get my own room." Philip stuck his nose up in the air all cocky. the girl huffed before she turned her attention to me.

"I'm angelica by the way." her smile reached her eyes as she bowed. "And this is Alexander." she pats a little boy's head next to her he looked to be 11. he bowed down, took my hand with his and kissed my knuckles. I tensed and laughed awkwardly. when he let go of my hand. "This is James" the little boy hid behind Angelica waved awkwardly. "And this is john." a two-year-old looking boy waked excitedly with a huge smile on his face.

"Well I'm (Y/N)," I gave a small wave, "Its nice to meet you." a small smile played on my lips. I turned my attention to Philip. "now let me show you your room." I spun on my heal and made my way to the end of the hall where his room sits across from mine.

I opened the door and let him in. "My room is right across from you so if you have a question on where something just asks me." he entered his room while I talked.

"I'll be sure to visit your room don't you worry." he turned to me and smiles.

"For a question, I hope."

"We'll see."

"Well no matter what for I'm just glad that I can see you again."

[lay-z]

get you the moon –

→ prologue

prt 1: John – “You gave me a shoulder when I needed it”

Warnings/Info: SMUT! Both m/m + f/m | cussing Pairing: Poly!Hamilsquad x Reader Summary: John has set his mind on trying to come up with something to cheer you up. Meanwhile, Alexander helps him to come up with an idea. Does John’s way help you eventually?

It’s the same day, just after his conversation with Lafayette, when John decides to take matters in his own hands. He cannot let any of his lovers suffer in silence while everyone tries to somehow keep themselves busy during these trying times.

He still wants to smack himself for being so oblivious of your decreasing spirits. When exactly did they all stop paying attention to each other?

John makes his way upstairs; sure to find Alexander working in his office like everyday since quarantine started, and he’s still holding the coffee mug in his hand. It only strikes him at the top of the stairs that he forgot to refill his mug. Damn.

The door to Alex’ office is slightly ajar and as John comes to stand right in front of it, he can already hear the frantic sound of quick fingers typing away on his laptop. However, before he enters, he knocks the door cautiously to make himself known.

“Hey, Alex?”, he says as he approaches the cluttered desk. It’s placed in front of the large window facing the backyard, but the dark blue curtain is pulled in front of it, granting just the slightest bit of sunlight to illuminate the room. Alexander has his back turned towards the door, even though he always gets jump scared whenever someone enters the room unannounced.

“Alex, can I talk to you for a minute?”

No reaction.

“Alexander?”, John asks again, this time accompanied by a tap on the shoulder.

“Holy fucking shit –“, Alexander shrieks and jumps in his office chair thus making John jump and stumble backwards, too.

Alexander has finally turned around in his chair, but he is breathing heavy and pressing a hand to his rapidly beating heart while he tries to compose himself.

“Fuck, John”, he breathes, then manages to chuckle. “you scared me.”

John scratches the back of his neck sheepishly, cracking an apologetic smile at his boyfriend. “Sorry, I – I tried to get your attention twice”

Alexander furrows his brows. “Oh, really? Huh, well, I guess I’m just too focused on my work sometimes.”

His expression changes and he flashes a shit-eating grin at John as Alexander reaches for his wrist. John has no time to protest as he’s swiftly pulled into Alex’ lap.

“Alex”, John whines, but Alexander simply takes the empty mug from his hands and places it on his desk before he wraps one arm around his hip and lets the other one roam up and down his thigh.

“How can I help you?”, Alexander asks smugly, but John knows from the tone in his voice what Alexander has set his mind on now. Time to stay strong, John thinks and swallows hard.

“We need to talk about –“

“And that can’t wait, hm?”, the shorter male murmurs against his ear and continues kissing along his jawline.

John can’t help the sigh escape his lips as Alexander gropes and teases away, and when he can feel the prominent erection press into his behind, he knows there is no way they can hold a conversation now.

Finally, John turns his head and captures Alexander’s mouth, sucking his lower lip between his teeth to show him that two can play this game. It has been some time, after all.

“You know”, John starts as he zips up his jeans while Alexander watches him from the medium sized brown leather couch in his office. “this was not why I came to your office in the first place.”

Alexander snickers and sits up; he’s still naked, laying there in all his attractive glory and John both hates and loves his smugness. “And yet here we are, Johnny.”

“Ugh” John rolls his eyes after pulling his shirt over his head. “please don’t call me that.”

“I love it when your hair is disheveled like that, all the more when I was the cause for that”

John tries to fix his curly mess, but Alexander did a good job messing it up indeed. He sighs and gives up.

“Have you noticed anything strange about (Y/N)? That’s why I wanted to talk to you; I think she’s not feeling well.”

With that, Alexander sits up straighter. “What? She’s sick?” His hearts drops and his chest tightens at the news.

Suddenly, he realizes that he has barely spent time with any of his lovers due to his work.

“Well, not like in a cold or so, more like” John pauses and shrugs his shoulders helplessly. “mentally.”

“Oh” Alexander sucks in a breath and grabs for his scattered clothes next to the couch. “shit.”

“Exactly”

With that, Alexander’s mind starts racing, coming up with ideas to help you get better.

“I did read that a lot of people are struggling with their mental health right now”, he mutters absentmindedly as he tries to recall everything he has read about the issue in the last few weeks while getting dressed. How could he not have checked in with his partners? He feels like an asshole and when he finally looks back up at John, he feels even worse.

“How are you doing?”

John snorts and sits down next to Alexander, who feels pathetic for not asking sooner.

“I’m doing ok and you?”

The shorter male sighs and rubs his hands over his face. “I don’t know, I try to keep myself busy with my work every day.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed the dark circles”, John chuckles softly and caresses his thumb along the dark circles under Alex’ eyes.

Alexander grabs John’s wrist and kisses his knuckles.

“I have not been the best boyfriend lately and I apologize for that, my love, and you’re right, we need to help (Y/N), too.”

After talking to Alexander, John finally feels like he will be able to cheer you up, too.

Spending some quality time with one of his boyfriends showed him what a little bit of attention and affection can do to you after all, and he can’t even recall when you and him shared some alone time with each other.

His heart aches as he remembers the routines you two used to have before everything went to shit and days started to just blur together; how you and him used to watch The Walking Dead every Monday, snuggled up in your bed, because he refused to let the guys ruin this tradition for you. Lafayette has never been interested in the show anyway (but he loves Game of Thrones for…reasons), Hercules is secretly scared, and Alexander never shuts up about every unrealistic aspect of the show.

A sad smile plays on his lips as he makes his way into the living room; surprised to find you’re gone.

“Hi, John”

He jumps a little, not as much as Alexander did earlier, but he is startled to hear your quiet voice behind him, coming from the kitchen.

As he turns towards you, he sees you have made yourself a fresh cup of tea.

“H-hi, (Y/N), didn’t expect you there”, he greets you awkwardly, earning a raised eyebrow from you.

“What are you up to?”, you ask curiously and blow the steaming beverage before taking a cautious sip. “You look like Alex got his hands on you”, you add with a smirk, pointing at John’s hair.

“That obvious, huh?”, he chuckles bashfully and tries to smooth it out once more – unsuccessfully.

You nod and take another sip, ready to move past him and into your room, but John stops you in your tracks.

“Hey, you wanna re-watch The Walking Dead with me? I’m thinking of doing it before season 10 starts, y’know?”

You’re speechless for a moment as you stare into his hazel eyes. It’s been some time since you and John have pursued that tradition and you would lie if the thought of it didn’t excite you.

“I – uh, just you and me?”, you ask hesitantly while the thought of being snuggled up to him with a bag of popcorn already sparks up your mood. You set the cup down on the counter; this is getting interesting.

“Sure, that’s our thing, remember?”

John shoots you a dazzling smile before grabbing a bag of popcorn from the kitchen cabinet containing all kinds of snacks above the microwave.

As the corn pops in the microwave, John swiftly turns towards you and reaches for one of your wrists.

“C’mere”

Your heart skips a beat as he pulls you into his chest, wrapping his arms around your hips before burying his face in the crook of your neck. He inhales your scent and playfully nibbles the sensitive spot below your ear, thus making you giggle.

You can feel him smiling against your skin at the sounds you’re making, and for the first time in days you feel some kind of happiness.

“I miss you”, John whispers into your ear and underlines his statement by cupping your behind and giving your firm ass a squeeze.

You suck in a sharp breath and just as you want to retort, the microwave goes off.

John kisses the corner of your mouth briefly and winks at you before letting go.

“I’ll get the popcorn, you start the show, k? Let’s watch in your room, your TV is bigger”

You pout for a second but obey, and as you rush up the stairs to your room with a warm feeling of excitement in the pit of your stomach, Lafayette walks out his room and into the kitchen.

“What’s the commotion? What’s with the popcorn? What –“

A loud gasp keeps John from continuing to pour the hot popcorn into the glass bowl.

“What?”

Lafayette only points at John’s head, a hand clasped over his mouth, and John knows what is up.

“So I see you “talked” to Alexander, huh, bien-aimé?”

John rolls his eyes with a smirk and shrugs his shoulders. “He’s very…persuasive.”

Lafayette nods and crosses his arms in front of his chest. “Uh-huh, I am aware of that and also, you are weak, Laurens.”

John keeps smirking and pours the rest of the popcorn into the bowl as Lafayette walks up to him, coming to a stop behind his shorter boyfriend until John can feel his breath on his neck.

“And what is that for?”

John shudders as Lafayette lets his hands work their way up John’s shoulders and down his hips, all while pressing himself against him.

“I have plans with (Y/N)”

Lafayette’s lips split into a mischievous grin. “Hm, can I be part of that plan?”

It takes all of John’s willpower to shake his head. “Nope, not tonight”

Behind him, Lafayette scoffs. “Alexander had his way with you and now you want to keep yourself and (Y/N) from me? That is beyond cruel, my luv.”

With that, John presses his ass into the taller male and forces him to stumble back. He grabs the bowl and makes a run for it before Lafayette can get his hands on him again.

“I’m afraid you have to come up with your own plan for that, Laf”

John can hear various curses in both French and English as he walks up the stairs and he does feel bad, but there are easy ways to make it up to Lafayette some other day. And maybe you would like to be part of that plan, too.

When John enters your room without bothering to knock, you’re pulling an oversized dark grey shirt over your head. He catches a glimpse of your black lace panties before the fabric covers your body up to the middle of your thighs, and he licks his lips instinctively.

“There you are”, you greet him with a smile, but the sudden, intense look in his eyes dares to make your knees go weak, so you quickly scramble onto your bed.

“I see you’ve changed into the shirt I gave you last Christmas”, John acknowledges as he sets the popcorn on your nightstand though he makes sure to lock the door behind him before doing so.

The shirt has an angel wings imprint on its back, just like Daryl Dixon’s famous trademark leather vest. He’d lie if he would deny that you fangirling about the character did not manage to make him jealous a couple of times in the past.

You nod, blushing suddenly, as you look up at him from your position on the bed.

“And no pants, just how I like it”, John chuckles, and an idea pops into his head. “Well,” He shrugs and grabs the hem of his shirt. “you don’t mind me getting comfortable too, do you?”

John doesn’t wait for your answer and pulls his shirt over his head swiftly. He tosses it to the floor next to your bed carelessly and his jeans follow quickly.

“No – not at all”, you answer, your voice now a raspy whisper as you ogle him with wide eyes.

John rakes a hand through his hair before he switches the lights off and climbs under the covers with you. There is a pause between you where you just stare at each other and at this distance you can smell the faint, lingering scent of sex and Alexander on his skin.

It’s mouthwatering and you have to swallow to get rid of the lump in your throat.

John cocks his eyebrow as he sees you inhaling deeply and swallowing hard. The corner of his mouth twitches.

“So, shall we start?”, John asks nonchalantly and takes the remote from your hand. He realizes how touch starved you seemed in the kitchen, and the way you’re behaving now tells him just how aroused you already are.

Needless to say, it’s enough to turn him on as well.

John switches to Netflix and sees that the show is already in your recommended; he chooses season one and starts the pilot episode. He looks at you and lifts his arm, smiling. You return his smile and accept the invite to snuggled up to him, resting your head on his bare chest.

You’re eyes might be fixated on your TV, but your mind is focused on John’s heartbeat, the way his warm skin feels under your fingertips as you caress his stomach now and then, and that damn smell of sex!

John is all too aware of your presence; it’s captivating his senses. The way your curvy body is pressed against his, the heat radiating from you and the feathery touches of your fingers drawing circles on his stomach. You must be able to feel his abs flex whenever you caress him. Goddamn, he cannot pay attention to anything else but his longing for you.

“Hey, (Y/N)”, John finally breaks the silence, but the sexual tension remains as you lift your head to look up at him with your big, curious eyes.

“Yeah?”

His jaw tenses as he considers what to do. After all, he just wanted to watch the show and be close to you to make you feel better, not to give in to his urges.

You bat your eyelashes at him, all innocent, but he knows the meaning of the look you give him afterwards.

“Fuck”, he mutters under his breath. He loses, gives up, and you win – you always do. No matter who you’re with.

You smirk against his lips as he leans down to kiss you; reluctant at first. It’s when you realize how much you have missed John and how much you miss your other three lovers.

Your left hand finds its way into John’s curly mess of hair, pulling him closer, while you steady yourself on your right elbow.

John breaks the kiss and pulls away the blanket covering you two frantically, thus exposing the prominent bulge in his black boxer briefs. Your mouth waters at the sight and as you try to reach for it, John grabs your wrist midair.

“Ah ah ah”, he rebukes you playfully, shaking his head with a cocky grin. “I will take care of you tonight, babygirl”

You suck in a breath as he shifts in his position and pushes you down on the mattress before climbing on top of you, never breaking eye contact.

He nudges your legs apart, making space for him to settle between them and you can’t help to shiver with anticipation.

As John pushes the baggy shirt upwards, he licks his lips as soon as he exposes your lace panties again. You take initiative and pull the piece of clothing over your head, and John’s eyes widen at the sight of your naked breasts. He was not aware that you’re braless. What a pleasant surprise.

“Did you miss me as much as I missed you, (Y/N)?”, John asks as he swiftly pulls down your panties, struggling just for a millisecond to get it over your firm ass.

You choke back a whine as he spreads your legs again, revealing your wet pussy to his hungry eyes. You don’t know why, you’ve long lost the shyness around your boyfriends, but you blush and squirm under his lustful gaze.

John rubs his hands up and down your thighs, feeling your tense muscles. His expression shifts to worried.

“(Y/N)”, he says and moves to hover over your face. “are you ok?”

You bite your lower lip and nod before answering him. “I am, just – I don’t know…nervous?”

John chuckles softly then kisses your cheek, the corner of your mouth, down to your jaw, your neck, collarbone, between your breasts until he settles back between your legs.

“Let me make you feel better then, hm?”

He continues to caress your upper thighs until you start to relax, and just then does he dare to let his hands wander to your pussy, rubbing his thumb up and down your labia before slowly circling your clit.

You sigh and grab your perky breasts, your nipples stiff against your own palms as you squeeze them.

You hold John’s gaze as he starts to push two fingers inside you, curling them delicately while his thumb keeps stimulating your clit. The thought about his slender, soft fingers inside of you, accompanied by the feeling, is enough to make you wetter.

You moan his name and squeeze your eyes shut when he adds a third finger.

He applies pressure to your lower abdomen and increases the speed of him finger-fucking you. Your back arches as the sensation gets more intense and you squeeze your breasts harder, rolling your nipples between your fingertips to add to the pleasure.

“Fuck, I love seeing you like this, babygirl”, John mutters under his breath as he watches you sigh and moan with your lips parted, and his cock throbs violently at the sheer thought of your mouth around it.

He can feel your muscles twitch and shake under his touch; your pussy convulsing around his slick fingers as he pumps them in deeper and faster, curling them in the right angle to make you mewl in pleasure. It’s obvious you’re close; John knows you too well.

Suddenly, you grab a fistful of your bedsheet while your other hand still squeezes your breast as you reach your climax hard with a long, drawn-out moan of John’s name.

He doesn’t stop pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy until your orgasm recedes.

“That’s my girl”

John smirks, pleased with himself and the mess he made. Your juices drip off his fingers, so he quickly frees his erection from his tight boxers, not wasting any more time.

You’re still catching your breath as you open your eyes to look at him, and your heart skips a beat at the sight of him coating his cock with your wetness still glistening on his fingers in the dim light coming from the TV.

Obviously unaware of what is going on around this household, Lafayette decides to seek out his other two lovers not long after his kitchen meeting with John.

He cannot help himself but scoff at what John had told him. How can John be so mean and selfish? That’s just out of character. First, he gets with Alexander and now he calls dibs on (Y/N) for the night? Unbelievable.

The Frenchman makes a mental note to teach him a lesson as soon as he gets the chance, and with that he changes out of his workout clothes and into clean basketball shorts and a white tank top, ready to do some seducing himself.

He is well aware that Alexander would never deny him, would never even dare to pass up on a good time, but since John had already talked to him, there is only one more reasonable person to find.

Hercules, who has retreated in his space – the converted attic. Now functioning as both his bedroom and workspace. His safe haven.

Lafayette sighs dreamily as he makes his way upstairs.

He pouts for a second as he passes your bedroom door and wants to rush past it, but a certain sound makes him stop dead in his tracks. He takes a few steps back, stopping right in front of your door, and he doesn’t even hesitate nor question himself before he presses his right ear to the door.

It takes a second for him to blank out his own heartbeat and the sound coming from your TV, but after that it’s only music to his ears.

“Fuck, I love seeing you like this, babygirl”

Lafayette can feel his cock stir in his pants at the stuff he is hearing; your soft moans and John’s cocksure voice are enough to get him hard.

“Mon dieu…”

He leans his forehead against the door, conflicted about the option to stay and jerk off like the castoff he feels like or use it as foreplay and have some fun with Herc.

His hand clenches into a fist at his side as you come with a shout of John’s name.

Lafayette sucks in a breath, exhales slowly and walks away with a smirk playing on his full lips.

[iangelofhell]

He threw away his shot (Phillip x reader)

Hi everyone!

I just wanted to say that this is the first time I ever post on tumblr... So I’m not sure how to use it exactly...

And that English is not my first language so I didn’t use an “old” type of communication, for me is more complicated. Anyway... if you notice something wrong, please tell me!

Summary: Your boyfriend and your friend got themselves on a duel. Luckily you, a medicine student, are there to save the day.

I promise this is not angst

Word count: 1463

Warnings: None.

I know George can be a little of a dick sometimes but this time he crossed the line. A duel. I will never understand why men die, literally, to prove the world their “honor”. They could do such without being so dramatic.  

It was a complicated situation, my friend on a duel to death with my boyfriend. If one of them kills the other I wouldn´t just lose the killed but the killer too. 

Never in my life felt my heart beating faster than now. While I saw the two men give each other backs and started to count to ten to kill the other. I didn’t trust the doctor on my side. He looked as nervous as I did, and that was bad. When I focused on the duel again My eyes locked with Phillip´s, just before he started to raise his gun to the sky. I smiled at him. If he didn´t shoot then George wouldn´t either. But then, when Phillip was at 7 and the gun almost fully pointing to the clouds above us, I heard the characteristic sound of a shoot, I watched and smelled how the air filled with gunpowder, how the red liquid spread on Hamilton´s white shirt, how his knees began to give in. I didn´t even think about it. I grabbed the doctor’s bag and started running in Phillip’s direction with the intention to catch him before his fall, but I didn’t. His knees impacted on the soft ground and he lowered his head to see the wound. His hands tinted with the same dark red of his shirt when he covered the injury. My eyes filled with tears and my vision went blurry, but I wouldn’t allow it. I allowed him to participate in this stupid duel and I let him fall, but I wasn’t going to allow him to die, even if that means I have to trade his life for mine. 

Omniscient narrator

Reaching Phillip’s side you let yourself fall on your knees and opened the bag that contained the necessary stuff to heal him. You were never this grateful for studying to be a nurse. While you take off the things you were going to need the boy beside you watched you with glassy desperate eyes. He didn’t want to die, he had so much more to see, feel, show… With his parents, his siblings… With you. He cupped your cheek with his bloody hand. The wet and warm touch made you focus your attention on him. His sad smile was too much for you. The sobs escaped from your lips without permission. 

“Don´t look at me like you’re going to die” Your voice was firm like an order, but, as in your eyes, it was evident the beg in it.

“(Y/N)-” 

“NO!” you yelled and grabbed his face as gentle as you could, but in this situation, it wasn’t much. “I do not allow you, I told yo- I told you this duel was a stupid thing, and when you are healthy enough I’m going to yell you and punch senseless for not listening to me” He chuckled lightly and nodded. You started to work again, slipping in the sterilized gloves and you began to clean the wound and patched it. Phillip just let you be, he didn´t know how many possibilities he had to live, but he knew if he wouldn’t let you tried it would be worst. After a glance at his eyes, you grabbed the first piece of clothing you saw and put it in his mouth. He quirked a brow but then he felt a horrible burning in his stomach and bit the fabric. you mumbled an apology and turned around to look at the doctor right where you left him the terror, still visible in his face. “For your sake, I hope the carriage is as close as it can be in less than a minute!” the man turned on his heels running to get the vehicle. Then you turned to Phillip’s friend, his second, searching for some composure. When you find it under the clear fear in his eyes you took the piece of material out of your boyfriend’s mouth and asked “Could you help me carry him to the carriage?” You saw him nod and wrapped Hamilton’s arm around his shoulder. You did the same thing and lay a hand on his chest. “We have to be careful I stopped the bleeding but any sudden movements won’t help…  At all” Both of you started to escort him as gentle and fast as you could. 

The travel was filled with a terrifying silence. You sat at Phillip’s left side with your arm wrapped around his, your hands intertwined. His head rested on your shoulder like its weight was too much for him. He wasn’t breathing, he was sucking as much air as he could. Sobs and whimpers leaving his lips now and then, your answer to that was squeezing his hand and run your free hand through his hair. 

Once in the hospital you explained just what had happened and your procedures to help. Then they took him away on a stretcher. you didn’t want to let go his hand, but you knew, if you let go this one time you could take it again a million more. So you did just that, but a second after you regretted it and started to follow the doctors so you could be with him. a man taller and stronger than you put himself in the way and with a soft voice told you to sit and wait for news about him. Someone asked a bunch of things about him, they asked for his family and send someone to call them. You answered automatically at everything but your head was in another place. 

You sat in a wooden chair. Your whole body shaking, hands full of your boyfriend’s blood, wet cheeks, your hair a mess, and your eyes and nose were puffy and red. It was quite a sight but you couldn’t care less. 

“Mr. Hamilton!” I raised my head and saw Mr. Hamilton there with eyes full of worry and horror. A man with glasses in front of him was explaining the same I explained when I arrived here. 

“Can I see him?” Alexander’s voice broke. 

“I’m sorry, right now the medics are working and they need space, but luckily he’ll live, thanks to the miss over there” he pointed at you “If she wouldn´t have been there he would have died”. You stood up and went to join the conversation. 

“So he’s going to live?” You started to cry again, but this time were happy tears. He was going to live. Phillip was going to be okay. 

The man nodded and smiled. 

“In a couple of hours you should be able to see him” Both you and Alexander left escape a sigh of relief. 

You waited and waited and waited. You were sat and then stand. At some point, Elizabeth Hamilton appeared. A doctor summarized the situation for her. When she heard that you saved her son she hugged you and thanked you. You hugged back and pat her back softly. 

Finally, we were able to see him, but you let the Hamiltons go first. They took their time, but it was understandable. It was your turn to talk to him. 

You reached his room. There he was. In a Hospital bed, pale as ever, and a little sweaty, but there he was. He was breathing you could see that but just to make sure, you let your head fell on his chest and heard the softs beatings of his heart. you sighed, relieved once more before looking at him. 

He smiled warmly at you.

“Hey” He nothing but whispered. 

“You stupid, stupid man” Your smile had nothing to do with the insult you just called him. He chuckled and took your hand. You sat at his side and cupped his cheek. “I swear to god if you ever scare me again like that I’ll kill you myself” He nodded and squeezed your hand. 

“Lay beside me?” You bit your lip, you wanted to do as he said. but you didn’t want to hurt him. “Please?” Oh, well, he used dis puppy eyes, there was no way you would say no to that. 

You lied down and rested your head on his chest as your hand drew random figures on his shirt.

“You saved my life” He whispered on your hair. You didn’t answer. You didn’t know what to say. Of course you saved him. What were you supposed to do? stay there and watched him die? 

wrapped his arm around you and hold you tight. 

You let his heartbeats lull you to sleep.

[izzygyrl]

A Mr. Philip Hamilton “True Love” {Injured!Philip x Female Reader}

Part Four! Last part (or so I think) Be prepared! 

{Mentions of blood, death}

Words: 2,606

~

It was late in the night when the frantic knocking came at your door. You were in the parlor with your mother and father reading a book, when a sudden bang assaulted your ears, causing you to lose your place in your book. Your father got up at once and hurried to the door concerned, for no man or woman would bang on another man’s door this late in the night, if it wasn’t an emergency. Opening the door he was shocked to see a bedraggled young man he recognized but couldn’t quite place on his doorstep.

“Young man what is the meaning of–.”

“I apologize most sincerely sir but I need your daughter, (Y/N).”

You froze, recognizing the faint voice almost immediately.

At the sound of your name both you and your mother’s heads rose almost at once. You shut the book in your hands with a loud ‘snap’ before jumping up and rushing over to the door, your mother quick to follow.

What you saw nearly made you fall back in horror.

In the entryway stood Stephen Price. However, it wasn’t his sudden late evening appearance that made you gasp–it was his appearance itself.

His hair was a ragged mess, his eyes bloodshot and puffy, and his coat–

His coat was covered in blood.

“Oh my lord Stephen are you alright?”‌ You asked and you put a hand on Stephen before quickly pulling back with a gasp of shock--the blood was still fresh. 

“It’s not mine–(Y/N)‌–it’s Philips…he’s hurt. Badly. I need you to come with me.”‌

You stood shocked at the news you were hearing. How was this possible?‌ You had just seen Philip only a few hours ago. 

“Dear god young man who do you think you are to–” Your father began,  but you cut him off as you spun around rushing to a stand in the corner and grabbing your wool cloak. “He’s a friend of Philip and I Papa. His name is Stephen Price and he’s a good man!”‌ You said quickly, pulling on the cloak, your hands fumbling with the ties.

Everything was happening so fast that your father was having a hard time processing the information he was getting. Philip Hamilton, your beloved was hurt. That much he knew. And from what he saw you doing, he was gathering you were planning on going to his side. “Darling it’s late and I don’t like you going out this–.”‌ He started to say but you cut him off.

“Stephen wouldn’t have come to me unless it was an emergency. Philip’s in trouble Papa.”‌ You said, your voice trembling slightly as you gazed at your father. “I have to go to him.”‌

The love and devotion that your sire caught in your tone absolutely moved him as it never had before. It was the first time that it honestly hit him that Philip was the one you loved and the one man that you would always love. And that you were no longer a little girl he had to protect from the big scary world. 

With a deep sigh your father raised a hand and adjusted the cloak, so it sat better on your shoulders.

 “Go.”

And with that you were out the door.

There was a carriage waiting and Stephen quickly barked an order as you both hopped in and with a crack of the whip you were roaring down the road.

“What happened?”‌

“A man named Eacker insulted Philip's father and Philip challenged him and there was a duel across the Hudson and Philip raised his pistol in the air but Eacker didn’t and…” His voice faltered and you understood.

“Where did you take him?”‌ You asked.

“His Aunt Angelica’s.”

The ride felt like the longest carriage ride of your life. The streets were nearly deserted. It was so late and you were wringing your hands together tightly the whole way praying that Philip was alright.

When you finally arrived at the house you jumped out of the carriage, Stephen close on your heels.

Philip’s aunt Angelica must have heard you coming because before you could even raise a hand to knock the door flew open and there stood the wide eyed face of Alexander’s sister-in-law, Angelica. She saw you and her eyes softened. The woman who stood before you had known you since you and Philip were children. She was a strong supporter of you and Philip’s relationship.

Reaching out she pulled you inside, and shut the door once Stephen had walked in as well. “How is he?”‌ You asked as you removed your cloak. 

“He’s been very calm and brave.”‌ She said. “The doctor has come and has done all that he can. We can only wait and see. Stephen, I  need you to rush over and bring Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton here at once.”‌ Angelica said, turning to the young man. “Before you go here.”‌ She said, picking up a small glass with an amber liquid in it which you assumed was some type of spirit or liquor. “I thank you for all you’ve done for us tonight.”‌

Downing the shot, Stephen gave the woman a nod before giving you a sympathetic look before he disappeared back out the doorway.

Once he was gone you turned. “Can I see him?”‌

Angelica gazed at you for a second before nodding. “I warn you it’s not a pretty sight.”‌ She said gravely.

You nodded. “I’m prepared.”

She nodded. “Follow me.”‌

Angelica led you to the end of the hall, to the parlor. With a knock she opened the door. You could smell alcohol the moment you walked in and realized the doctor must have been using it to aid Philip in removing some of his pain--or making it worse.

Stepping around Angelica you nearly choked.

Philip was lying on a long mahogany table, his white vest and pale blue jacket soaked with blood. His legs were at an odd angle and his tan pants were wrinkled.  You suspected that he was lying like that because of the pain he must have been in. You saw that his breeches were also covered in blood.

Glancing at Angelica she gave a nod and gazed at her nephew. Stepping inside the room a tad more you noticed the doctor only a few feet away from Philip sitting quietly in the corner. When you entered he raised his head and gave you a nod. As you took another step, you saw Philip stir at the sound of you entering the room. You were at his side in a moment. Opening his eyes slowly, he saw you, and his eyes widened before you saw a faint smile fall upon his lips. “You came.” He said weakly.

You hold back a sob as you bend over him. “Of course I came Philip-oh my darling.”‌ You said and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. “Why did you do it?”‌ You asked.

“I had to defend my father’s honor.” He said and even through the strain in his voice you could hear the pride in his tone.

You couldn’t help but let out a weak laugh. “Hamilton’s and their pride.”‌ You said in a gentle chiding tone, and gently placed a hand on his hairline, softly running your fingers through his hair. He always enjoyed when you did this and you thought it would bring him some comfort.

“I’m glad you’re here.”‌ He said. You saw a look of pain cross his face and your heart ached as you felt your throat tighten and tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

You swallowed praying your voice didn’t betray you. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying right here by your side. Where I belong.”‌ You whispered gently, taking his hand in yours. 

“I put my pistol up in the air and–.” Philip said, trying to explain but you stroked his hair and softly shushed him. “Save your strength my darling.”‌ 

“Do you remember the time when we first met?”‌ He asked.

You were caught off guard by this question, however when you glanced at him he was gazing right back at you, his eyes clear and blue.

“It was at the statehouse in Manhattan.”‌ You said with a nod as you recounted the memory. “Our fathers were having a meeting with President Washington. I ran in and your father told me he wanted me to meet someone. And then you came in a few moments later.”‌ You said to him.

Philip nodded and grinned before grimacing once more. “Wh--when we were in the garden that was the first time I knew that we were going to be together forever.”‌ He said.

You couldn’t help but smile. “And we still will be.”‌ You said not liking the way he was talking.

“I want you to do something for me.”‌ He said.

You nodded. “Anything.”

“Marry me.”‌

You blinked shocked. “What?”‌

“The doctor is also an ordained reverend from Trinity Church. He had to fill in when all the pastors–.”‌ He grunted as he scrunched up his face in pain.

You reached for his hand and slipped yours into his. “Squeeze my hand Philip.”‌

“I want you to be my wife. I’ve loved you since the day we met (Y/N). I’m sorry I didn’t ask sooner.”‌

You couldn’t believe what he was asking of you. You loved Philip. But you knew your answer long before it came out of your mouth. 

“Yes.” 

You turned to gaze at the doctor. “Will you do it?” You asked him. 

The doctor who had been silently praying with a bible in hand stared at you over his spectacles, then glanced at Philip until turning back to you. “We’ll need a witness.” Was all he said. 

You nodded, gently putting Philips hand down and going to the door. “Angelica!” You called out. Philips' aunt appeared around the corner, her eyes wide with fear. She hurried over to you, her skirts in her hands. “He is--?” 

You shook your head. “He’s alive. But...the doctor is a minister. Philip asked me to marry him and...I said yes.” You said softly. You then met her eyes. “We need a witness.”

Angelica let out a little sound that resembled a gasp and a sob. Then realizing the situation she nodded. “Of course I’ll do it.” She said. 

You went back and settled on Philip’s left and Angelica on his right off to the side. The doctor, now turned minister, was standing up in front of the three of you back to the door. You took Philip’s hand once more and watched as he cast a glance and nodded in thanks to his aunt. 

The ceremony started and the doctor was nice enough to give you a short version of it. 

In the middle of the ceremony suddenly you heard footsteps. Turning you saw Philip’s father Alexander Hamilton burst through the room. He took in the room and then saw his son. “Philip!” He began to rush over but Angelica rushed forward and stopped him with a hand.  She whispered in his ear for a moment and his eyes widened and he opened and closed his mouth in shock like a fish gasping for air.

“Papa hold that thought please.” Philip said and you felt him squeeze your hand. You stroked his hairline softly. 

“I assume you don’t have rings so--.” The doctor began, before Philip cut him off. 

“(Y/N), reach into my coat on the right side.” He said weakly. 

You did as you were told and as you did, careful not to hurt him, you froze as you felt a soft tissue in the pocket. However you felt a hard object within the tissue. Pulling it out you slowly opened the wrapping and gasped. 

Inside were two plain golden wedding bands. You felt tears fall as you gazed at them and then looked at Philip. He gave a weak smile. “I’ve had them for a while.” He said. 

Wiping away a tear you gazed back at the doctor who nodded and then proceeded with the ceremony. 

“Philip do you take (Y/N) (Y/L/N) to be your lawfully wedded wife, for better and for worse, in-.” The doctor paused and you both looked at him and you saw Philip give a nod urging him to continue. 

“In sickness and in health so long as you both shall live?” 

Philip took a ragged breath but replied in a strong tone, “I do.” 

“And do you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N) take Philip Hamilton to be your lawfully wedded husband in sickness and in health, so long as you both shall live?” 

You didn’t know it at the time, for you and Philip were so in the moment, but Philip’s mother, Eliza had arrived with Stephen right behind her. Thankfully Alexander and Angelica stopped them and quickly explained in hushed tones what was taking place.

“I do.” You said taking Philips' hand once more. 

“Please place the rings on each other's hands.”

Taking Philip’s left hand gently you slipped the larger of the two rings onto his ring finger. Then he took the smaller ring, and with your help supporting his wrist, he slipped the ring onto your own left hand. You then clasped hands together.

“Then by the power vested in me by the Trinity Church in Manhattan I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.” The doctor said closing the bible. 

Bending down, you placed a kiss on your husband's lips. A tear fell on his cheek and he gently wiped it away whispering. “I love you Mrs. (Y/N)  Hamilton.” 

You laughed through the tears. “And I you, Mr. Philip Hamilton.”

Sharing another kiss you squeezed his hand gently before you turned to thank the doctor only to remember that the Hamilton’s and Stephen were there. You let go of Philip’s hand and stepped away letting his mother run to his side, which she did almost instantly. Alexander followed behind her but stopped next to you, leaned over and kissed your forehead before going to his son’s side. 

You stepped back letting the family have their moment. You walked over to Stephen and he gave you a hug,  Angelica gave you a hug as well, her eyes puffy from the tears. 

You couldn’t hear what they were saying but it sounded like Eliza was singing. “Let’s give them some privacy.” You said as you quietly went out into the hall.

Just as you began to leave you heard the most heart wrenching scream come from Eliza Hamilton. You spun around and looked. 

Philip lay on the table, his head slumped, his eyes closed and his chest-.

His chest-.

His chest had gone still. 

You let out a wail of horror and you grabbed onto Stephens sleeve. “No-!” You gasped and you felt your knees go weak. Stephen realized you were going down and he caught you and you fell to the floor together. You grabbed his coat in your fists and let out a gut-wrenching sob. You felt drops on your head and realized that Stephen was also crying. 

Your whole body felt numb. You  sobbed into Stephens chest clinging onto him as if your life depended on it. His coat was hard from the dirt grime and blood that he had gathered up over the evening. 

In the background you heard the doctor murmuring a prayer.

~~~~

(When I say I cried writing this-I CRIED WRITING THIS SO MANY TIMES OMG. I hope you enjoyed nonetheless! My inbox is open for feedback, requests and questions! Have a great day!)

[headoverheelss]

Somebody should really do a Modern Au of the hamilsquad singing Boyfriend by Big Time Rush and Lafayette is the leader. Also they are all drunk of their ass...

Also please make it a Lafayette x reader fanfic.

[caterinawriting]

The Cost of a Legacy Masterlist (DISCONTINUED)

GIF not mine

Summary : He sees her and she’s the most beautiful person he’s ever seen, everything perfect. Well except the fact that they’re growing up during the revolutionary war. Their love will hit many hurdles and what the future has in store may not be what they planned.

Pairing : John Laurens x Reader

Author Notes : 

Just a fic about you and John Laurens lives through the Revolutionary war. Pre-Hamilton and actual Hamilton events. Not everything will be historically accurate. 

If there's any questions feel free to message me! I also take feed back or if you see any edits I need to make. 

Last Updated : 11/23/20

Prologue 

I

II

III

IV

V

VI

VII

VIII

If you read this part I’m sorry lol I’ve written fanfics since 2014 and have never finished a story. ITS THE DEPRESSION YALL

[obiwan824]

Poly!Hamilsquad x Reader- Musical Theatre Headcanons

Alexander

He would be so excited to go with you!

Play, musical, opera- Alex just loves theatre

As a teenager, he wanted to act but he rarely did, he cared a lot about what people thought

He’s a total theatre kid

He’s into every musical on- and off-Broadway every season

Everyone who likes Hamilton tends to like the same musicals, so I feel like he would like Dear Evan Hansen, Heathers, Be More Chill

He would love In The Heights, 21 Chump Street, and Bring It On, anything Lin is involved with

If he got to see In The Heights before it closed he would be so happy

Alex especially loves the musicals like Phantom of the Opera and Les Miserables

For days after seeing a show, he’d be listening to the soundtrack and singing it

Oh I don’t know how I forgot this

Disney musicals are his favorite!!!

He would ask to go see The Lion King every day

Birthdays and holidays are always spent on Broadway

The Little Mermaid!!

He’s really into Shakespeare

He would take you to every production of every Shakespeare play

It’s really cute

John

He would be skeptical at first

He was never a theatre kid

You were always playing Broadway soundtracks (let’s be honest, we’re all Broadway-lovers here.)

One time he started singing along

You freaked out and started saving for a trip to New York City!

John really wouldn’t want to see a classic musical, he would want something weirder

I think he’d love Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812

The lights, costume, setting

He would find it so cool!

He kept making eye contact with people and being like ???

He got a love letter and was so happy

I think his favorite musical would be Grease

You eventually got him into some other things and he started listening to the more classic stuff

He loves Annie, Matilda, Sound of Music, etc.

He becomes a total theatre kid, he loves music and artistic stuff so musicals are his thing, he’s not really interested in opera or plays

John was forever grateful that he met you

Lafayette

He is the biggest theatre nerd of them all!!

No need to introduce Laf to anything

Especially musicals!

He loves any and all musicals

He doesn’t like singing in front of people

But if you start singing he’ll join in

People have walked in on you both in homemade costumes (like blankets, robes, pillows, etc.) singing showtunes at the top of your lungs

You can do couple songs which is really nice

He wants the entire house to be Broadway-themed

He’s good with makeup and hair so he will always do Broadway hairstyles for you

Lots of cosplay, Herc will make costumes for you.

The two of you will always go see shows in costume

It would be so cute when you show up to, like, Grease as Danny and Sandy

He has a lot of money so he would always take you to your favorite shows

Hercules

Like John, he’s really not a theatre kid

He would groan whenever you started playing a cast recording, but he would never make you turn it off or anything

One day you walked in on him in the bathroom

He was in the shower singing “Defying Gravity” from Wicked when he thought you were at work

He was like “On my own!” and you joined in with “Look at her, she’s wicked! Get her!”

He freaked out and never forgave you

You would help him figure out what musicals were more his speed

He would be really hesitant but start to figure it out

Eventually, he’d be singing showtunes 24/7

“WHAT HAVE I BEEN MISSING MY ENTIRE LIFE?!?”

He’d make the best costumes for you for like Halloween or just for wearing around

“Herc, I want to be Heather Chandler-” “oN IT!”

Working with Laf- Gilbert does hair and makeup, Herc makes costumes

Lots of cosplay

Herc doesn’t have a lot of money but you’d both save and go see shows when you can

He doesn’t like singing much, so he’d be more comfortable seeing plays

He likes any and all plays

Herc loves watching anything with you as long as it makes you smile!

Poly! Hamilsquad

Group costumes!

Once they’re all into theatre you can do so much with them

Songs that are impossible with one person?

Not anymore!

Some of them don’t really like to sing, but once you get into it, they’ll join in

Your house can be filled with musical CD’s and posters

Framed playbills everywhere!

They like to take you stagedooring after the show

It’d be so much fun, honestly

[matsumi101]

Who is this Kid?

Crossdressing Fem!Reader Hamilton Insert

Part 2 - Dance with Me

Description:

The war is bloody, that’s so surprise, and you were in the middle of it all. One brash interaction later, you found yourself intertwined with an interesting group, joining them in their antics from their thievery to the taverns.

———————————

Warnings: swearing, drinking, harassment, guns and blood, Lafayette dancing poorly (at first)

———————————

Notes:

> Continuation of the first part that you can read here

> “F/N” means fake name and “Y/N” means your real first name

> This part happens in between “Right Hand Man” and “Winter’s Ball”

> omg i did not expect people to actually like this!! Tagging @thebitchiestnerdtowalktheearth @cutie1365 and @girlmadeofivory since they were looking for a part 2

———————————

“LET'S RAISE A GLASS!”

“TO THE REVOLUTION!”

You held no shame as you cheered alongside your group, raising your mug with the rest. You chugged down half of your mug's content before letting out a heavy sigh. Your face was flushed, as you've had so many rounds that you never really counted anymore after getting past three. All you knew was that your friends were on the same page as you, and that you pitied every lady in America because damn they are missing out on this. "Now seeing you down that with a straight face made me like you a lot more, F/N," Lafayette said jokingly. You giggled uncontrollably, dropping the mug on the table with a loud thud.

"Why thank you." You flipped your tied hair for dramatic effect.

Your confidence was taken positively by the table. As promised, you guys celebrated for a job well done in stealing the cannons, but it was held back for some time until work didn’t demand so much for the time being. Not only that, it became a double celebration since Alexander was promoted as George Washington’s secretary, or rather Alexander preferred, his right hand man. “So, Hamilton, how does it feel being General Washington’s right hand man?” you asked. Admittedly, you haven’t had much time with the four people as you did since the cannon raid, only seeing much of Alexander nearby Washington, so you wanted to make the most out of the time with them.

Alexander’s face soured, earning a hearty laugh from you and the others. “Come on, your writing’s impeccable, you should be proud the General chose you,” John pointed out. He slung an arm over Alexander for comfort, but he leaned a little too far from his seat and ended up toppling down to the floor. This caused another round of laughter, with Hercules repeatedly slamming his hand on the table and you facepalming at what happened. “Mon dieu, John. You are drunk as fuck,” Lafayette slurred in fake exasperation, looking down at his fallen friend.

“I’m sure everyone is.”

“But not drunk enough, eh?”

You nudged at Hercules, wiggling your eyebrows. “You calling for another round?” Hercules guessed, though the smirk on his face showed that he already knew the answer. “Hell yeah!” You growled excitedly before gulping down the rest of your drink. Hercules called for a refill for the table, and once everyone got their mugs full again the rowdiness resumed.

The tavern was full that night, but that didn’t stop you from noticing something off a few tables away. You saw a pair of girls enjoying their time drinking like everyone else, but they were being eyed by the group of men, three from your peripherals, right across them. You would’ve brushed it off as guys simply scouting them, but the lingering wolfish gazes and intent grins weren’t at all nice to see.

“See something you like, F/N?”

You brought your attention back to the table and saw all four guys staring at you, all eyebrows raised and knowing grins plastered to their faces. You scoffed, bringing your mug to your lips. “I’m good, thanks,” you declined. “Nothing here catches my interest.” You closed your eyes and drank as you heard your friends give a long gasp of amusement.

“But do you plan to look for someone in the ball?”

Ah, you almost forgot. A ball was happening in a few weeks, and Washington insisted to have the officers attend. You were just a Private, but Alexander convinced to get you an invite, too. Your eyes met John’s, and for a moment it seemed like there was something else that spoke in his gaze that you couldn’t quite comprehend. “Maybe I am, or maybe I’ll just be there,” you answered thoughtfully, taking a sip. “Or maybe I won’t be.” You heard everyone groan, making you snicker quietly.

“I swear, you’re just as bad as Burr.”

“Hey, I am vocal with my stances, thank you very much.”

“And what’s your stand?”

You stood up, stomping your foot on your seat. “Fuck the King!” you roared, raising your drink. Your friends echoed your declaration, which was followed by approving cheers, howls, and raised glasses. You grinned toothily as you took a gulp. Lafayette, being the other standing person, bumped at your chest approvingly.

You sat back down, sighing. “But seriously, I don’t know if I should attend the ball.” Lies. You were sure to go, the only conflict was as who you were going to go. As a woman, it’s still the unfortunate duty of yours to find a wealthy man to marry for your family’s sake, and how else can you find a rich guy to woo other than showing up prim and proper and in a dress at a ball? Another part of you wanted to go as a soldier, wondering to see how the people saw you at the ball, and mostly to drink as much as you wanted with no shame.

“Really, you should go, F/N. It’d be disappointing not to see Lafayette trip over himself in the dance floor.”

Both you and Alexander glanced at John in interest while Lafayette gave the freckled guy a pointed look. “Lafayette? An aristocrat? And he can’t dance?” Alexander interrogated, and John nodded at each question teasingly with closed eyes. Hercules was chuckling beside you. “S'il vous plaît, that one instance was an accident!” Lafayette exclaimed. You leaned to Alexander a bit. “Was he swearing?” you whispered.

“No, he said ‘please’. You don’t know French?”

“Nah, man. At least, not enough.”

“Laurens, do tell us about that one instance.”

John was more than ready to oblige to Alexander’s request, but Lafayette jumped in, quite literally, to shush him up. “Woah!” you interjected, grabbing the drinks on the table just before the flustered Frenchman could knock it off from his path. Hercules had done the same, and just like you there were a few spills that landed on his shirt and pants.

“What the fuck, Laf?!” John groaned, more annoyed than entertained with the reaction.

You diverted your attention momentarily from the chaos to the women you were keeping watch earlier. They were fine, though the men still weren’t taking their eyes off of them, much to your distaste. You looked back and saw Hercules and Alexander laughing their asses off. “You know if you’re that embarrassed with your dancing I can guide you. I’ll be the girl,” you offered casually, and the mood was cut short.

"What?" they all muttered.

"What?" you echoed with equal confusion.

Then your drunk mind realized it. You were still a guy in their eyes, so you had to make something up. “I've been with more than enough ladies to understand their side of the dance,” you purred, making sure that they caught your boasting tone. "Ahh, so Alexander's not the only tomcat in this group, I see," Laurens mused, sending you a devilish smirk. You played along and grinned smugly in return. “What can I say? Ladies just can’t resist the pretty boy,” you bragged, briefly running a thumb on your nose.

“You sure about this, F/N?” Hercules warned jokingly. “We weren’t kidding about Lafayette being bad at dancing.”

“How bad could it be?”

Hercules rolled his eyes and leaned back on his seat. “Your funeral.” You stood up, placing the drinks down before pulling Lafayette off the table. “Alright, c’mere you poor thing,” you grunted. You put your hands up and beckoned Lafayette to come to you. The man complied, though evidently embarrassed, as he took your right hand and placed his other on your waist. You put your left hand on his shoulder, reminiscing the years you were taught to dance.

“Okay, let’s take a step-”

It was just the first step and he already failed. You yelped the second Lafayette stepped on both your feet, Lafayette mirroring your expression when you unintentionally dug your nails into his hand and shoulder in response to his accident. Alexander, Hercules, and John broke into fits of laughter as you looked at them with disbelieving eyes. Maybe you were starting to regret this.

“Excuse me a second.”

You grabbed one of the shotglasses and downed up the hard drink before returning to Lafayette. “If you’re going to charm the ladies, that is definitely not it,” you quipped. “I’m going to teach you how to dance properly, even if it kills my toes. Now get back here.” You returned to your previous position, and Lafayette seemed even more hesitant to proceed.

Though you insisted, and continued with the practice. No one gave any judging eyes, seeing that the everyone was too drunk out of their minds to care at all to see two men practicing a ball dance in the middle of the tavern. A few hours, a couple more drinks, and countless missteps later, you could barely hold your proud smile when Lafayette managed to step in sync with you without hitting your feet for the next few minutes. Your friends cheered for him, and Lafayette’s grin widened as his confidence rose.

You two glided across the room a bit more, and you were inevitably enjoying it. You looked up to Lafayette, who was focused on the floor to make sure he was getting it right. “You should practice not looking down when dancing,” you suggested, Lafayette looked up to you, hesitancy in his eyes, before returning his eyes back down. He’d been unusually silent the whole time, in contrast to his normally boisterous drunken self. “Don’t worry, you got it now. Eyes on me,” you instructed. You moved your hand from his shoulder to under his chin and gently lifted his head despite his stiffness, feeling the prickling sensation of his unkept stubble. You figured it was just his nervousness to step on you again for the nth time that’s making him tense.

“Relax, Lafayette.”

There was reluctance, but Lafayette complied anyways and kept his eyes on yours, feeling his shoulders droop a little. You hummed the counting, your steps in sync. After finishing a routine without any mistakes, you broke to a congratulating grin. “You got the hang of it!” you cheered quietly. Though, Lafayette’s expression was contrast to yours. He had his lips drawn to a flat line as confusion stirred in his eyes. You cocked your head at him, your smile turning into a frown as he pulled away and walked back to the table. “Lafayette?” you called quietly, unsure why your friend looked uncomfortable.

“So, comment ai-je fait?”

The second Lafayette faced the three, he pulled up a grin. You followed him, your worried look lingering to him as you sat down. “If you can do it drunk, you can do it sober,” John praised, pushing a mug across the table to Lafayette, who caught it with ease. You picked up your own cup, forcing your eyes away from the now bright mood your friend held. You glanced at the girls again, and you saw that they were standing up to leave. From the corner of your eyes, you could see the men shuffling readily, and it wasn’t a good sign.

You leaned forward the table before you could raise any suspicions. “I have to say, Lafayette’s a fast learner,” you complimented, smirking as you brought your mug to your lips. You gave the said man a once over, but your attention was really at the two women that passed your table. “That makes me the savior of putting his tripping days to its end.” Your humor evoked approving laughs, but Lafayette merely rolled his eyes in response. Though, he had the corners of his mouth pulled up regardless. You sent a lopsided grin of your own, your eyes snapping momentarily to the four men that hastily brushed past the table, one even accidentally hitting your chair.

You fell silent for a few seconds before you pushed yourself up. “I’ll be back shortly,” you announced. You took your coat resting on the back of your seat and put it on, checking if your holstered gun was hidden from plain sight. You didn’t wait for a response and headed out of the tavern, the cold wind immediately biting your warm skin. You looked around the empty streets, wondering where the men had disappeared to so quickly. You contemplated on which direction to go first, but the fleeting shadow from the side answered the question for you.

You walked as steadily as you could, a hand over your covered pistol for assurance that it was there. You peered over the alleyway that led to the back of the pub, and there you saw what you were looking for. The two women, gripping to each other for dear life as they backed against the wall of the other building, while the four men stumbled closer to them. The sight disgusted you, and you weren’t going to stand around for another second.

“Hey! Leave them alone!” you growled.

The men looked over to you as you marched forward. “Fuck off, kid. This isn’t your fun,” one of the men spat. You narrowed your eyes at them, discreetly tucking a hand under your coat. You kept your posture straight, fighting back every ounce of nervousness in your system as you walked even closer. “Let these women be before anything bad happens here,” you warned, your voice bordering to a threatening growl. “I’m not fucking around.”

“Oho, strong words from a pipsqueak like you.”

Two of the men were about to approach you, but you weren’t taking any chances. You drew out your pistol, eliciting a yelp from the women and surprised gasps from the men. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” you asked in a mocking tone. You moved your head to the women, who were staring at you with terrified eyes. You smiled warmly before nodding to the street, motioning them to leave. They sent you a brief look of relief before they rushed out, and you aimed the gun at the man who tried to take a hold on one of the woman’s wrist. As soon as the girls disappeared from your sight, your face hardened again. “I’ll remember your faces,” you snarled, observing the men’s faces.

“The next time I find any of you harassing a lady, I will shoot,” you threatened. "And you will not like where I'll be aiming."

You paid no attention to their fuming faces as you turned to your heels and went back inside. You tucked your gun back into the holster, pulling a smile once you returned to the table. “Where’d you disappear to?” Alexander was the first to question as soon as you sat back down. “Just some business,” you answered coyly, though the proud smirk in your face showed that you were proud of the “business” you attended to. You were about to take a sip of your drink when-

Wham!

You didn’t even have enough time to process what happened. The next thing you knew, your teeth hit harshly on the rim of your mug before your entire face made contact with the hardwood table, feeling the splinters sink into your cheeks. “What the fuck, dude?!” Hercules yelled, shooting up from his seat. It would seem that the other three were close to following suit. You groaned as you sat up, wiping the spilled beer off your face. You could feel a warmer liquid just below your nose, and you didn’t need to think for another second to figure it out. You could hear John say something, but it was drowned out by Hercules’ bickering towards the culprits.

“Let them be, Herc,” you coughed.

Despite your dazed vision, you managed to grab Hercules by his sleeve and urged him to sit back down. “They’re not worth the time.” Hercules resisted for a moment, but he complied anyways. He sent the four jeering men a heated glare before he sat down. You ran your tongue across your teeth, silently thanking that it didn’t chip. You could hear a pair of feet shuffling close to you, followed by a tap on your shoulder. You looked up and saw a waitress handing you a dampened hand towel. You muttered a thanks as you accepted the cloth. You pressed the towel to your nose and lips, wincing in pain while you squeezed your eyes shut.

“Are you okay, F/N?”

You pried an eye open and saw everyone looking at you worriedly. “Just dandy,” you huffed, but there was an unintended sarcasm that betrayed your assurance. “Are there splinters on my face?” you asked, lowering the towel a bit as you put your face out. “Let me see.” Alexander scooted closer, examining for any stray wood pieces. Once he saw a splinter, he plucked it off with ease. After another round of observing, it seemed that all the pieces were removed, so he leaned back. You exhaled in relief.

“I think that’s all of it.”

“Thanks, Hamilton.”

“Now, are you going to explain why that just happened?” Lafayette spoke up, crossing his arms.

“Does this have something to do with your ‘business’?” Alexander followed, air quoting the word “business”.

You sighed and nodded, putting the towel back to your nose. “Those guys were stalking some women earlier, so when I caught them harassing the girls outside I told them to fuck off,” you confessed tiredly. John was the first to react, shooting up and ready to make his way to the group that passed earlier. “Don’t,” you hissed, not wanting any more trouble than there already was. You looked at Alexander hoping that he’d stop John, but alas he looked encouraging more than anything.

“Guys, don’t. I’m serious. They’re just pissed that I cockblocked them.”

You gurgled the rest of the beer left in your cup after the spill, washing away the metallic taste of blood in your mouth. “Forget about them, let’s just enjoy the rest of the night,” you insisted. Though it took a little while for the tension to lift off your and your friends’ shoulders, everyone managed to push the incident out of their minds and return to the joyous mood earlier.

An hour before the tavern closed, the group figured it was a good time to make their leave. They paid for their drinks and hobbled out, arms slung over one another as they laughed and sang mindlessly. “Guyyys, help, I don’t speak French!” you cried out exaggeratedly, but you were only responded by slurred chuckles. Somehow you broke into two groups, with John and Alexander leaning on one another up ahead while you were squished in between Hercules and Lafayette. As much fun as you had with the guys, the winter chill was something you wouldn’t want to stay out for.

“This is my way.”

Hercules moved away, and you whined quietly, one due to the loss of warmth on your side, and another with the lack of support to keep Lafayette up. Alexander stared at John for a bit, reluctant to let go, but he had to since he was under Hercules’ roof until he could find a place to stay. “It’s fine, Alexander! You’re clinging onto Laurens like it’s the last time you’ll see him,” you called out, laughing as you stumbled a bit, and your teasing was somehow enough for Alexander to finally pull away.

“G’night, boys.”

You, John, and Lafayette waved the two farewell before trudging along the streets. “Where’s your place, F/N?” John asked, hopping back to join you and Lafayette. “Hmmmmm, some distance away,” you hummed. You knew that going to your real home was a bad idea since you basically ran off, but there was no relative you could go to without being snitched on (fucking Loyalists), either. Ever since you left, you’ve been staying in the camp. It wasn’t much, but shelter was shelter. You knew a place, but you doubted that you’d get there unscathed, especially at this hour of the night.

“Really?” John pressed.

“Yeah.”

After a while it was John’s turn to head home. He stopped at the corner heading to his place, turning to face you and Lafayette. “F/N, before I could forget,” he suddenly said. You quirked a brow as John shuffled toward you, pulling out a white piece of cloth. “I cleaned it, don’t worry,” he assured. You recognized it as your handkerchief, which you completely forgot that you left with him. You snatched it from him, worry bubbling in your chest.

“Ah, I see it’s really important to you,” John breathed.

Lafayette stared curiously as you grazed your fingers over the flower decoration at the corner of the cloth. “So, Y/N, huh?” John spoke up inquisitively. You snapped your head up, eyes wide as you clutched the handkerchief to your chest. “Gonna tell us about your girl anytime soon?” he probed, his eyes glittering with interest. You relaxed a bit, but not entirely, seeing that his assumption was far from the truth.

“Is this why you were dodging our question about the ball?” Lafayette piped in.

“Maybe.”

Lafayette rolled his eyes at you. You figured enough that he had a pet peeve for vague responses, as did everyone else. You snickered, tucking the handkerchief in your coat. “Hey, answer my question!” John exclaimed. “I’m gonna head inside in a bit.” You smiled bashfully, closing your eyes and thought of what to say. Despite your hazy conscience, you found the will to restrain yourself from talking about you.

“Sure, some other time,” you answered quietly. “When things aren’t so complicated right now.”

Despite himself, John bade farewell and went home. It was left with you and Lafayette walking side to side. “I’ll head here now,” you spoke up, pointing to the alleyway heading to the other street. You waved Lafayette goodbye before shoving your freezing hands into your coat pocket. The best place for you to crash in for the night was at an inn, and you knew a cheap one not too far off. You were glad enough to know some place you could afford.

After checking in and locking yourself into the room, you undid the corset that had been binding your chest the whole day. You gasped in relief, plopping down on the bed. Your nose had been numbed to the scent, but you knew that you reeked of alcohol, especially with how much liquor spilled onto you after your head was banged on the table. You figured a bath would be nice, and washing your clothes while you’re at it since it was all that your had at the moment.

After the wash, you threw yourself back into the bed. The ball, you thought. Goodness, what were you going to do? You were torn with how you were going to attend, and if the choices were going to keep driving you mad then might as well not go altogether. Yet, the bigger part of you wanted to go, to see those men you call your friends. Alexander, John, Hercules, and Lafayette; they were the most fun you had, and you wouldn’t want to miss a grand moment with them, in the battlefield or in life. You refused to let that kind of feeling go.

You sighed, gently burying your face in the pillow. You could feel the ache of the side of your head that hit the table, which was just above your eyebrow, but you paid no mind to it. The alcohol was making you drowsy, and you were more than willing to comply. As you drifted off to sleep, the same worries as earlier lingered in your mind.

A soldier? Or a woman?

[astralaffairs]

freedom of the press 03 | thomas jefferson

title: freedom of the press

pairing: thomas jefferson x reader

tags: @stargazelaurens @ivory-haired-queens @exoticxchicken8 @assbuttstyles777 @superbarriobrothers @distinguishedpotsticker @fukaaaaaaaa @hereforthepsyche-assessment @ivetoldamillionlies @fangirl570 @thealaddinkid @lasciviouspeach @snazzydoesthings @shy-and-awkward-daveed lmk if you want to be added

words: 10.5k

warnings: get ready for hella sexual tension and getting drunk on wine!!

desc: you’d just moved to d.c. full time, a promotion at your publication leading to a transfer to another district chapter, and you were more than thrilled to be there, more than ready to immerse yourself in the world of politics. what you weren’t ready for, though, was how the campaign trail you were following made your heart flutter and your stomach turn. you also hadn’t expected it to be so… gaudy? magenta? – or perhaps, though you wouldn’t hear of it, that wasn’t the campaign’s effect at all.

Y/N RUSHED INTO the apartment, darting toward the kitchen counter as she tried not to lose the balance of soup she had stacked up to her chin. She caught wind of Alex's stunned face from where he stood behind her, still holding the door open to let her in, and gave him a sheepish smile over her shoulder. It wasn't until the cups of soup were safely on the counter that she slowed down.

"Hey, Lex." She turned around, leaned against the counter as she met his eyes. "Thanks for letting me know Eliza and Pip were sick. I got here as fast as I could."

He raised his eyebrows, his face the picture of disbelief as he closed the door behind her, returning to his own apartment. "As fast as you could after picking up," --He leaned to her right where she stood, glancing at the critical mass of food behind her-- "four cups of soup?"

She grinned. "I had to come prepared."

He raised an eyebrow. "Obviously."

"So where are they? Can I come in and see them?" She ignored the sarcasm in his tone as she shrugged off her coat, walking back toward the door and hanging it on one of the hooks where she came in. He nodded toward their hallway, indicating with a smile for her to follow.

"Yeah, c'mon; they're in our room." He started down toward the bedroom as she kicked off her shoes, subsequently rushing after him. "Liza's still not doing so good, but she's definitely better off than Pip. Poor kid isn't himself right now."

"Aw, yeah?" Y/N frowned, her brow furrowed as he looked over his shoulder at her. "Shit, that sucks; I'm sorry. What are they down with?"

"I'm actually not sure, but we think it's the flu." Alex scratched the back of his neck, face wound up into what was almost a grimace as we reached his bedroom. "C'mon in." He pushed the door open, and Y/N walked tentatively into the empty doorway as he entered the room, wearing a wary smile as Eliza glanced over at her, eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Hey, Eliza," Y/N said softly. "How're you doing?"

She smiled, though fatigue was written from her weary brow to the heavy bags under her eyes. "Hey, honey." Her voice was almost softer than Y/N's. "Please, come in, I'm doing just fine."

She sat next to where Philip lay on the foot of the bed, watching Inside Out on what you recognized as Eliza's tablet as he scrunched his nose up, perpetually looking as though he was about to sneeze. "Hey, Pip," she added with an amused smile, and he rolled over, looking bored before his eyes lit up as he saw Y/N.

"Aunt Y/N!" He pushed himself off the bed with a toothy (and toothless) grin, coming over to give her a hug. She swept him gladly up onto her arms, shifting him onto her hip as he latched onto her shoulders.

"How's it goin', kiddo?"

He pursed his lips, shook his head dramatically. "Really bad. Me and Mama have the fluke."

She raised her eyebrows at this, turning with him to Eliza and suppressing a laugh. "Oh yeah? Is that right, Mama? You have the fluke?"

Eliza's small smile waa threatening to become a grin as Philip nodded earnestly. She couldn't help but be endeared at the pair. "Something like that," she agreed, and Philip turned again to Y/N looking very self-contented.

"See? We got fevers and coughs and everything," he pouted, and she matched his expression, looking sympathetic as she pulled him closer. He wrapped his little arms around her neck while her expression softened toward Eliza.

"I'm sorry you guys are feeling so bad." The words were directed both at Eliza and Philip, but their four-year-old's mind seemed long gone at that point, attention drawn back to the cartoon playing on the tablet over Y/N's shoulder.

It was then that Alex came over to Eliza, joining her on the side of the bed with an affectionate smile. "I know. It's the worst." He leaned in to wrap an arm around Eliza's shoulder, pulled her close as he softly kissed her forehead. "I'm really gonna miss you at the gala tonight, Lize." He gave a soft chuckle as their foreheads rested together, and her gaze softened. "It'll be the loneliest in a while. Who's gonna make fun of Jefferson's new, ridiculous, gaudy suit with me?"

She hummed her agreement as she cuddled into his side, sniffing and stifling a yawn. "I'll miss you too." She let out a soft sigh as he wrapped an arm around her, and Y/N couldn't help but smile at the domesticity of the scene, bouncing Philip on her hip. For a moment there was only tender quiet, and none of them seemed to come to until Eliza quietly mumbled, "You should bring Y/N instead."

He raised an eyebrow, redirecting his gaze from Eliza's tired form to our rather surprised heroine. "That's actually not a bad idea. You wanna come?"

Her eyes widened as she realized that yes, the invitation was unmistakably directed at her. "To what, exactly?"

A soft chuckle escaped him at how suspicious she looked, brow furrowed tentatively, and he carded a hand through his hair. "Right, I forgot we hadn't told you about that."

"Washington's having a gala," Eliza piped up, sleep thick in her voice, "It's to celebrate the start of his last year before the next election."

"And why invite me?"

Alex sighed. "I love George, but God is it impossible to throw a good party when you're the president." He pursed his lips, rolling his eyes at the memory. "It's always just dry diplomats and politicians. I wouldn't last the night alone."

Y/N hesitated, lips pressed into a thin line as she considered him; Eliza was quickly falling asleep on his shoulder, and he just stared up at Y/N expectantly, his expression holding no trace of a joke. "Tonight?"

"Tonight," he confirmed, nodding. "It's black tie, but if you don't have anything to wear, you can just wear the dress Eliza was planning on."

"I have a dress," she said quickly, many details of the night still giving her pause. She shifted Philip on her hip. "Would I even be welcome? Like, bringing your wife to a government event is one thing, but--"

"You'd be more than welcome," he assured her with a laugh, his easy smile doing just a bit to ease her nerves, "Don't worry about it. They'll all love you, it'll be a fine time, you'll be fine." Her worries were apparently written across her face, if how he was responding was anything to go by, and he waited a beat before asking, "Are you in?"

She took a deep breath. "What time should I be ready?"

"I can be by to pick you up at seven."

"More like your driver will be by to pick me up," Y/N snickered.

"Listen I have to have a security detail, I'm a cabinet official, and I--"

"How many people have tried to assassinate the Secretary of the Treasury, literally ever?"

"It's an important job--"

"I'll be ready at seven." She raised her eyebrows, amused and waiting for him to challenge her. He rolled his eyes.

"See you then.”

____________________

“WHAT COLOR IS your dress?" Alex demanded over the phone, voice coming out in a rush of static as Y/N had him on speaker, still putting the finishing touches on her makeup.

Getting ready on the fly had proved to be more of a challenge than she expected, having rushed home from Alex and Eliza's, had to quickly deal with the newest scoop on Angelica's love life -- He's wealthy and sweet but is he right for me??? -- and still made time to shower and do her hair and makeup. (The sound of her hair sizzling under a flat iron before it was entirely dry had made her cringe; it was an occupational hazard she wasn't entirely willing to deal with, ultimately deciding to let it air dry.)

She pursed her lips as she looked in the mirror.

"Green," she answered simply. "Why?"

"I'm trying to find a tie that matches," he said, exasperation just distinguishable from her side of the line. "What green? Kelley green? Emerald?"

She shrugged before remembering he couldn't see her and considered it for a moment. "More like a forest green."

A small noise of frustration came through in a crackled huff, and she could hear his hangers squeaking against the rod in his closet. "Alright. That'll work."

She laughed lightly at his reply as she slid on her favorite pair of gold earrings. "It better work, 'cause that's what you're working with. Will you still be here at seven?"

"You bet."

________

HE PULLED UP in front of her apartment complex at seven o'six, a number she would continue to dote on for the rest of the night, in a rather official, tinted-window, black government van.

It was seven o'seven when she saw the text letting her know he was outside, and it wasn't until seven thirteen that she finished hobbling down the stairs in her favorite pair of heels, having clung to the railing going a mile per hour the entire way down. (The elevator was broken, what would you expect her to do, walk barefoot? In the disgusting stairwell? She would have winced at the idea.)

She smoothed out the front of her floor-length dress as she took a deep breath, suddenly feeling very self-conscious as she walked out the door of her building's lobby. Was her neckline too low? Should she have covered up more? Did she look too slutty to be at a state dinner? The Italian diplomats surely didn't show this much skin.

She tugged at the straps on her shoulders as she approached the car Alex was in, silently willing it to hide her from any judgment or insecurity about being at such an event. (It was quite an ask of just a fancy dress, though she supposed some of the responsibility also went to the gold necklace that fell just above her hemline and the heels that made her legs look as shapely as ever.)

Alex rolled down the window with a grin, not even bothering to get out of the car to greet her. "Hey. You look nice."

She'd known him for years and was more than used to his antics by then, but still, she rolled her eyes. "What a gentleman." As she let herself into the backseat of the car, sliding into the leather seat beside Alex as the door fell shut with a click, she gave him a second glance. "You don't look so bad either. Would never have guessed you spent your morning in a petri dish of disease."

He only chuckled. "Are you making fun of me for taking care of my family?" Her smile widened.

"Only a little."

The pair bickered good-naturedly for most of the ride there, the teasing gaining fervor when Y/N learned he had only started getting ready ten minutes before coming to pick her up. Realistically, that much had been clear since he called her about his tie five minutes before he left, but that didn't dissuade her from taking advantage of the information.

Her nerves had thus far tamed themselves, but when they pulled up to the steps of the White House and were ushered through with smiles and recognition, she could feel her heart begin to jump into her throat. What had she been thinking, accepting his invitation? She didn't belong here; her job was to critique the government, not working in it.

"Cool it, Y/N." Alex gave her a look between worried and skeptical, brows furrowed and eyes wide. She wondered briefly if her emotions were painted that blatantly across her face. "There's no issue with you being here; you're my guest."

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever, I'm fine. It's no biggie, just a dinner, right?"

Now his expression was skeptical. "Yeah? You're fine?"

"Mmhmm."

"Every muscle in your body is tensed right now."

"It's the strain of walking in these heels. You wouldn't understand." She earned herself a dramatic scoff at that one, and couldn't conceal her resulting grin as he lead her through the different rooms of the building to where the dinner was apparently being held.

"Right," he said, tone dry. He glanced over at her as he walked, the stress hadn't faded from her expression, and his gaze softened, if only momentarily. "Hey, you know this is gonna be fine, right?"

The unimpressed look she gave was all the answer he needed, reaching out to give her shoulder a comforting squeeze. "I promise. Everyone brings the most random plus-ones to these, for whatever reason. Last year someone brought their son's kindergarten teacher, so now no one gives any unexpected guests a second glance."

"Alright," she sighed, leaning on the railing in her impractical footwear as they began up a flight of stairs. "I just... I'm worried that my being with the press will make it a different story."

He chuckled. "So long as you stop short of whipping out a notebook and full-on interviewing Jefferson in the middle of the ballroom, don't sweat it."

"You just want me to give up an exclusive? Just like that?" The look she shot him was playfully offended, and his grin grew. "I don't feel like you support my career, Alexander."

He rolled his eyes, an amused smile still playing at his lips. "Unfortunately, I'll put your success just below my still having a job in the government."

"You're no fun."

The state dining room was more the size of a ballroom, as Y/N realized when she entered on Alex's arm. Secretaries and politicians, diplomats and economists swarmed the room, all discussing matters she could hardly begin to skim the surface of; everyone there was certainly more important than she -- at least, that was all she could hear running through her mind as she saw the fancy dresses and sharp suits of the other attendees. She suddenly felt very small.

She took a shaky breath, hoping Alex wouldn't notice her swelling nerves. "Alright, where to?"

"There are a few people I've been wanting you to meet." The sentence was presented innocently enough, but there also lay a glint in his eye that Y/N couldn't quite place the intention behind.

"Oh yeah?" Alex ignored the skepticism in her tone, as well as the question altogether as his eyes scanned the fluid crowd before him. Y/N huffed. "Like who, exactly?"

He glanced back at her with a grin as he started toward the wall to their right, beckoning for her to follow. "Just old friends. I have a feeling you'll like them."

She raised an eyebrow but followed him nonetheless, far from sure about what to expect from this. She had to dodge to avoid running head-on into people who looked like they could sue her for all she was worth as he zigzagged through the crowd, and trying to keep up with Alex was quickly giving Y/N a headache. He glanced back just as she slipped by the Secretary of Education, casting her a wary glance as she hurried to join her friend.

"Christ, Alex." She paused after reaching him to adjust her heels, leaning on him for support as she scowled at the red lines that dug into her skin. "Slow down, will you? Where are we going, anyway?"

"Have you met John?" He continued trying to pull her along, even as she hopped and hobbled, trying to put her shoe back onto her foot. She shrugged.

"Laurens?"

"That's the one." His words came distracted over his shoulder as his gaze continued to dart around the quadrant of the room he'd finally reached. His eyes fixed on the man in question, he smiled. "Have I introduced you?"

"Yeah, once or twice," she said, finally finding exactly who it was they were looking for. "Only in passing, though. Don't think I've ever actually had a conversation with the guy."

He ushered her over in a hurry, and she stumbled behind him, preoccupied with ensuring the neckline of her dress didn't dip too far down in her haste.

"John!" Alex called to him once they were just within earshot. The man in question turned with a raised brow, before breaking into a grin upon seeing his friend. They finally reached where he was standing, and Alex immediately released Y/N in favor of pulling John into a bear hug.

"It's been a minute," he said as he pulled away, his smile soft. "How've you been? How's Martha?"

"She's great. We're great, really." John's tone was earnest as he looked back down at Alexander. "What about Eliza? Philip?"

"They're well. You'd be surprised how much Philip is growing up to look like you," he chuckled. "If I didn't know better, I'd have thought you were the father."

"If you didn't know better," John repeated, amused smile tugging at his lips. A pregnant pause followed his words before he cleared his throat, taking a brief glance at Y/N standing stiffly beside them, and took a small step back to address her. "It's Y/N, right? We've definitely met before."

He shook her hand spiritedly, giving her a lopsided grin that couldn't help but elicit one of her own. "Yeah, for sure. It's good to see you."

"You as well." The warmth in his voice and his gaze seemed to be genuine as he glanced between Y/N and Alex. "Remind me how you two know each other?"

"She's Angie's college friend, and now her roommate." He bumped elbows with Y/N, and she raised an amused eyebrow. "We've been pretty good friends for years now."

"Well, I'm glad you could make it, Y/N. I was disappointed to hear Eliza was feeling too bad, but you're an alright substitute when push comes to shove." He shot her a playful wink with his words, and she couldn't help but laugh.

"The stand-in could never be as good as the original, I'm afraid." She grinned. "Anyway, if I were Eliza, I'd also have to be attracted to this one." Y/N shot Alex a disdainful glance, and while he rolled his eyes, John's smile only grew.

"Alright, you two, I need a drink before I can deal with any more of this tonight." He sounded exasperated, but his smiling eyes told a different story. He turned to Y/N. "Can you find us somewhere to sit?"

She briefly turned back to his friend. "Any open seats at your table, John?"

"An abundance."

"Then I've got it covered, Lex." She grinned, and he just rolled his eyes.

"Fine." He shook his head, playing up the dramatics of it all as a small smile still tugged at his lips. "You want anything while I'm gone?"

"Whatever you're having is good." She shrugged. "Open bar?"

He gave her a mischievous smile as he began his route toward the side of the room. "Nah, you're treating."

"What do you mean, I'm treating?" she called after him, indignant, but he'd already moved on, well within earshot but no longer listening. She scowled, turning to John. "How have you put up with him for even longer than I have?"

"Plenty of liquor," he answered, amusement dancing through his expression. "Got any healthier secrets for me, though?"

She scoffed. "If I knew, I'd tell you." Her gaze flickered around the room, concurring with her lighthearted answer as she tried to find the open table John had mentioned. "Where are we sitting?"

"Follow me." His grin was wide as he beckoned her toward the round table he'd sat down at earlier. A few of the seats were populated, but the table wasn't nearly half full yet.

"So, how do you know President Washington?" Y/N asked. She knew this dinner was for close associates and important relations of his (and, well, their wives' sisters' roommates, in her case), and had never been sure from their few encounters quite what John did.

"I was a soldier under him in the war," he answered, scratching the back of his neck. She didn't have to ask what war he was referring to. The conflict with Britain that had stretched to France and other allied world powers had shaken the international community to its core, the American people in particular. It was the worst national confrontation since the Cold War, Vietnam, Korea, or Afghanistan be damned.

She had only just been old enough to follow the war when it broke out, reading the news on her doorstep before her parents could stop her, smuggling it to her eighth-grade classroom to be informed in peace (or really, in war). The memory of its gruesomeness still looming, Y/N nodded, brows knit.

The silence from her seemed to make him uneasy, and the grin once again returned to his face. "Don't worry about it, though. I didn't see too much of the combat. For most of the years, I was only a camp aide."

"'Camp aide'," a voice to their left scoffed. Both their heads turned, and John's eyebrows immediately shot up. "More like "war hero," do not let 'im lie to you."

"What ever happened to humility, Laf?" John shot back, and Y/N's eyes widened, caught between the obvious familiarity of the two men.

"I 'ave never been humble, and look where it 'as gotten me." The man speaking seemed as animated as John, with skin a deep brown and curls that bounced as he laughed, tied back into an untidy bun.

"What, across the ocean from the country you're supposed royalty in?"

"Royalty," he snorted. "Please. Try, disgraced and banished."

John only smiled. pulling him into a hug as he stood up from the table to greet him. "Right, and that's how you got the job as ambassador to the states?"

The other man flashed him a white-toothed grin as they broke apart. "Something like that." As John pulled away, allowing him to return to his seat, he raised an eyebrow at Y/N, glancing back to John expectantly. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your belle amie?"

Y/N didn't speak a whole lot of Portuguese, but she was fairly sure the first word he'd used meant pretty -- or was it French? Maybe Italian?

John gave him a look she couldn't read before saying, "She's Hamilton's friend Y/N. His sister-in-law's roommate."

He smiled behind the rim of the glass he'd returned to, turning to Y/N. "Très heureux, Y/N. Je m'apelle Gilbert, friends call me Lafayette." He paused, drinking in her mildly amused expression, and set down his glass, saying, "Take your pick."

"It's a pleasure, Lafayette." She shook his hand as her eyes scanned the table at which he sat; John had taken a seat next to Lafayette while he and she were getting acquainted, and the far half of the chairs seemed largely abandoned. John beckoned her over to the empty seat by him as she withdrew from his friend.

She pulled out the seat next to him (making a mental note to keep a chair open for Alex, whenever he returned), and turned back to Lafayette, smoothing out her dress beneath her. "So what is it you do?"

The question was clearly addressed to him; he'd caught her eye almost the moment she sat down. "I am ze French ambassador to ze United States. I work out of ze Quai d'Orsay?"

Based on how he was looking at her, she supposed what he said was supposed to mean something to her. Unfortunately, his words hadn't fallen on deaf ears, but on stupid ones. His smile was almost sympathetic. "Ze French state department."

"Ah!" Finally, in English. "That sounds incredible. What do you do as an ambassador?"

"Mostly attend parties and meet beautiful women." His quick response caught her off guard, and while he remained the picture of nonchalance, she felt heat rushing to the back of her neck. Her eyebrows shot up.

"Sounds... like a good job." She couldn't help but swallow harshly. The implication behind his words made her heartbeat pick up, but despite it, her timid smile grew.

"It certainly is." His gaze had zeroed in on her by then, yet she couldn't decide whether it was a good thing as his eyes narrowed, as though scrutinizing her expression in its entirety alongside his playful grin. In the left of her peripheral vision, John raised an eyebrow. "In fact--"

"Would you mind if we joined you?" It was much to his chagrin that Lafayette was cut off before he could take it further; however, it was much to Y/N's relief. Her heart had already jumped nearly to her throat. She turned to face the voice to the right of her.

"Was there nowhere else to sit?" John addressed Mr. Madison and his wife before Y/N could, a cold undertone in his words. His response raised a few eyebrows, though it was annoyance from James where surprise from Y/N. His wife eyed John with alarm.

"We'd hoped to be seated among friends--" His eye contact with Lafayette at that was pointed, and his expression spelled out unspoken apology. "But if we're not wanted--"

"Please, stay." Y/N sent John a questioning look as she cut James off. Her expression turned immediately kind as she met his eyes, seeing how startled his wife appeared. "I could use a few more people who don't resent me just for who I'm here with."

"Thank you, Y/N." Though he did address her, his words seemed more so directed toward John. He paused as he reached for the chair next to her. "I assume this is where your company is seated?"

"Yeah, Alex is just off getting drinks." Surprise painted his features as he pulled out a seat for his wife, exchanging a gentle glance before giving Y/N a questioning look.

"You're here with Secretary Hamilton?"

"Yeah, he's an old friend." She couldn't quite read his expression but knew at least that she felt out of place with how he was looking at her. She shifted in her seat. "Will that... be a problem?"

The hesitation in her words didn't go unnoticed, and he responded with a warm smile, calming her momentary qualms. "No, of course not. Hamilton is a friend of mine, as well. I was just wondering how you knew him."

"Through his sister-in-law, actually." The words left her with a chuckle, feeling awkward to have to explain her chance connection. "She's been my roommate for a long time, and I've gotten to know Alex and Eliza through her."

Upon noticing his head still cocked to one side, she added, "His wife is sick, so he invited me as a plus-one just for the hell of it."

James laughed at that, taking a sip of his wine. "I'm glad he brought you, of all people."

"So am I, to be honest."

He was shaking his head as he set down his glass, smoothing out invisible creases in his jacket as he glanced back to his right. "Hey, Dolley, I don't suppose you've met Y/N?"

"Not in this lifetime, anyway." Her eyes were soft as she leaned across the table to shake Y/N's hand. "I'm Dolley, James's wife. I'd hug you properly if we were standing, but just know that it's implied."

A laugh tumbled from Y/N's lips, her grin lingering as she ultimately withdrew her hand. "Hug noted and accepted. It's great to meet you, Dolley."

"Y/N is a writer for the Washington Post. She's covering Thomas's campaign trail." Dolley's eyes widened at his words.

"Y/N L/N?" She nodded, and Dolley's features relaxed as recognition set in. "Ah, I thought I recognized you from somewhere. I've read a lot of your stuff pre-campaign; you're a great writer."

Y/N beamed back at her. She'd decided almost immediately that she liked Dolly, but that certainly confirmed it. "Thank you so much, that's so sweet of you."

"I do feel sorry for you, though." She shook her head with a huff as she took a long sip of her wine. Y/N's brow knit with concern. "Stuck reporting about Thomas for the next, what, year? Let me know if you need me to cover your therapy costs afterward, dear."

"Careful what you promise, I may just take you up on it," Y/N retorted, and Dolly laughed.

"You were right, James, she is funny." Her husband turned to look at her wide smile with a soft one of his own, subtle adoration resting in his eyes as she hung onto his arm. They were an unlikely pair, Y/N thought as she watched them, their personalities worlds apart, but they seemed to work so well. She couldn't help but wonder how they'd ended up together.

She didn't ruminate long, though, as James lifted an arm to wave across the room, motioning with a smile for someone she couldn't see to join them.

She turned back to Lafayette and John where they'd been discussing the country's terms of alliance with France. She couldn't have cared less about it, quite frankly, but the Madisons' attention was clearly elsewhere, and she wasn't inclined to isolate herself and stare at the table.

Her facade of interest didn't last; the person in question finally reached their table and it would have been impossible for Y/N not to recognize him. Her head whirled around, pulse quickening even as she heard him greeting James. Just her luck. He dipped down to kiss Dolley on the cheek, acting sickeningly familiar with the couple, after pulling James into a hug. His interactions with them were uncharacteristically genuine, in her opinion, and he pulled out the chair next to Dolley to join them at their table, still chatting animatedly with the pair.

It wasn't until Jefferson caught Y/N's eye that she realized she'd been staring, and caught staring, too. His movements slowed momentarily, surprised gaze meeting her alarmed one almost directly across the table, and he raised an eyebrow, expression easing into one of amusement, as if to say, look what we have here.

She blinked, eyes wide.

"Thomas!" Dolley's excited exclamation took them both by surprise, and they quickly broke the gaze they'd held just a moment too long. Heat threatened to fill Y/N's cheeks despite her fighting it down; she fixed her eyes to the red tablecloth before her. Of all people who could've shown up to her table, it had to be him. "Have you met Y/N?"

Her heart nearly jumped into her throat as Dolley broke her train of thought, having been expecting (or really, hoping) not to be dragged into the conversation. Her gaze snapped upwards.

Dolley seemed oblivious to her reaction, though, reaching across the table to squeeze Y/N's forearm with a wide smile. She could only manage a weak one in return. There was a skip as Jefferson met her eyes, his brow raised, and she was painfully aware of every little movement she made.

Finally, Y/N answered for him, turning to Dolley, "Yeah, we've run into each other once or twice." She winced inwardly at how breathless she sounded.

"Twice." She was surprised to hear Thomas chime back in, hoping to just let the subject drop, and he was just on the wrong side of self-contented as her wide eyes found his.

"Oh, really?" Y/N could see Dolley glancing between them out of the corner of her eye, and she swallowed, throat tight. "When did you meet?"

"Just a few campaign events, nothin' too exciting." Though his words were directed at Dolley, his gaze was still fixed on Y/N, and while she swallowed thickly, James laughed.

"'Nothing too exciting.' Care to tell us the story of how you almost ran her over, Thomas?"

"You what?" Dolley's reaction was immediate and incredibly expressive. Her eyes widened as she looked at the man in question. "Now you're on the hook, Jefferson. What's the story?"

His smile mellowed out as Y/N was either too afraid or too stubborn to be the one to break his gaze -- or somewhere between the two -- despite that her heart was pounding all the way down to her toes with how he looked at her. "Just a bit of a logistical mix-up." He grinned as he turned to Dolley, breaking the prolonged eye contact. "I happened to be tryin' to drive in the same place that she was tryin' to walk."

"And he almost hit you, Y/N? Where was this?" Dolley seemed to be enjoying the revelation, laughing, and Y/N had to conclude she was planning on giving Thomas hell for this. She sighed.

"Oh, just off in one of the alleyways between buildings downtown where cars aren't supposed to go." She shrugged, taking a sip of her drink. She'd begun to enjoy this now that it had been turned on him. "Y'know, over where he regularly violates traffic laws."

"Oh really?" James raised an acute eyebrow at Jefferson. "I seem to have missed this part of the story, funnily enough."

"What, was that part conveniently left out when you heard the story, James?" Y/N wore a look of falsified innocence as she looked over at him, and he sighed.

"It seems to have been." He moved his annoyed gaze from Jefferson to Y/N, glare easing as he looked over at her. "You really should've pressed charges, y'know."

She grinned, hardly stifling a laugh at his words, and raised her glass in agreement. "Don't tempt me; I still might."

He laughed, taking a sip of his own wine as he considered her, eyes shining.

Dolley chose that moment to pipe back in, smile inquisitive as she laid a hand on James's forearm. "So, how did your close call with manslaughter turn into you two meeting? Did you not just, I dunno, keep driving?"

Jefferson grinned at that, turning his full attention back to Y/N. "You wanna answer that one, Y/N?"

"Hard pass." Her teeth were gritted as she met his eyes, and he chuckled.

"That was when she blackmailed me into givin' her an interview for her article," he explained, tone matter-of-fact, but mischief danced in his smile. She pursed her lips.

"I mean, otherwise the article would've been about how the Secretary of State has no respect for the law." She had to keep her expression in check with how amused he looked. Anger at this point would do her no good. "Almost hitting an innocent pedestrian wouldn't do much for your campaign; you should consider yourself lucky."

"Oh, I do." Jefferson no longer seemed to be talking about the article, though, his smile bordering on predatory as his eyes bore into hers. Her glare set in with how he was looking at her. He continued, expression easing into nonchalant amusement, "You're doing wonders for my Twitter following."

"I'm glad to hear you're popular online." She plastered on a sarcastic smile, and frustration radiated off of her in waves. The tension between the two was palpable. "But don't expect to gain anything more from me, Secretary Jefferson. The Washington Post sends you all their best."

A beat passed as he held her gaze, his smile becoming smug as his eyes narrowed. "Now, what happened to 'Thomas'?"

Her jaw ticked, despite the thrill that ran down her spine with the edge to his words, as his stare seemed to be burning into her own. How much humor he seemed to find in the situation had her fuming; she had to attribute it to anger when her breath caught at the words.

She held her tongue for a moment, only stared at him, brows raised in livid disbelief, and just when she didn't think she could stop herself from lunging across the table to yank Jefferson by his obviously expensive necktie--

Alex cleared his throat behind Y/N, making her almost jump in her seat. Her heart beat a tattoo against her chest, and Alex looked suspicious as he took the seat to her right.

Now it was him holding Jefferson's gaze, the tension between the two men even stronger yet, with their scowls perfectly mirrored and with both their jaws clenched.

"Picked you up a gin, dry." He didn't turn to face Y/N, despite that it was her he was addressing. He appeared too busy staring daggers into Jefferson's expectant expression, all but ready to risk his job if it meant taking a good, hard swing at him.

"Thank you, Alex." It irked her that Jefferson looked so smug, especially so needlessly, but it clearly annoyed Alex more than only a bit more, and she knew she needed to diffuse whatever sexually charged staring contest was taking place before her. She took the glass from Alex, resting a hand on his forearm until he turned to look at her. "How much do I owe you?"

Though she didn't see it, Jefferson raised his eyebrows at him across the table, disdain looming in his surprise. Alex sent him a glare, saying, "Don't worry, I'll cover it."

"You sure?" Her brows shot toward her hairline; he still seemed preoccupied, but any generosity from him was new to her. "Thought you said I was paying for drinks tonight."

Alex certainly didn't care for the judgment in Jefferson's eyes. He met it with a scowl, sending a shameless glare across the table before he pulled off a smile, turning back toward her. "Seriously, no worries. You're my guest."

There was suspicion deep-set in the words she had to force down, glancing between him and Jefferson; instead, she opted for saying, "Thank you."

There was a tense pause as she brought the glass to her lips, desperately wanting not to be the one who broke it.

"So, Thomas, how's your campaign going?" Dolley's endearing voice again chimed in, and Y/N was torn between being grateful for her breaking up the unspoken standoff between him and Alex, and groaning inwardly as Jefferson began to speak again. And it didn't seem like he planned to stop for a while.

Sighing, she threw back a heavy sip of her gin. It could be a long night.

_____________

"I CANNOT BELIEVE I agreed to come here," Y/N huffed, her teeth gritted and glare dark. She'd dragged Alex away from the table for her third glass of wine (she'd switched from gin after two glasses, having decided early in the night that even Jefferson wasn't worth the hangover). She groaned as she slumped against the bar. He didn't have to ask what was bothering her.

"You're being dramatic." He lifted himself onto one of the barstools next to her, rolling his eyes, and she scowled as she met his exasperated gaze. "I work with him. I've had to deal with this almost every day for years."

She furrowed her brow. "Good point. How are you not dead on your feet?"

He grinned. "That's assuming I'm not. Haven't you been paying attention?"

She swung around on the stool as she snorted, took a long sip of her drink before leaving it on the counter, and hopped to her feet. "Good point. Wanna buy me another before we head back?"

"Buy it yourself, L/N."

"I thought you said you were paying tonight." Y/N plastered on a pout in an effort to stifle the smile that threatened to break through. "'Least, that's what you said when everybody else was around."

"I paid for your ticket."

"I didn't have a ticket!"

"Beside the point."

She scowled, rolled her eyes as she turned back to the bar. "Excuse me?" She shot Alex a final glare as the bartender turned to face her. "May I have a glass of your most expensive red, please? Whatever will do." She flashed him her widest smile, but he just sighed. Apparently working state dinners takes quite a bit out of you.

Alex quirked a brow at her while the bartender went to grab her a drink, and she only shrugged.

"Cash or credit, ma'am?" She turned back to him with the same sweet smile.

"Just put it on my tab, please. It's under the name Thomas Jefferson?"

"Will do." He turned away once again, and Alex let out a surprised huff of laughter.

"And I thought you were about to charge it to me." His expression was amused, though impressed as she faced him, looking rather self-contented.

"Why would I ever do something like that Alex?" She couldn't stifle her grin as she took a sip of her drink. "You did pay for my ticket, after all."

He chuckled. "Of course."

She leaned back on the bar, hesitant to return to their table as she savored the taste of her overly-expensive drink. The atmosphere in the room was warm; she didn't feel nearly as uncomfortable as she had when she entered, yet it exhausted her more than anything. She sighed, brushing a loose hair away from her face.

"Two whiskey sours." Her train of thought was broken abruptly, though, as an unmistakable voice came from her right, and her eyes widened, turning toward the source.

She turned back to Alex with urgency written across her expression. "Alex," she hissed. "That's John Adams."

He raised an eyebrow. "It sure is."

"Do you know him? Can you introduce me?" She couldn't understand how his enthusiasm wasn't matching her own, him only folding his arms disinterestedly.

"Yeah, he's a good friend." He pushed himself off the bar, before pausing. "Why?"

She rolled her eyes, suppressed an exhausted groan. "Alex. I'm a reporter. On politics. In Washington. Knowing the vice president could be a game-changer for my career. Do you have his number?"

"Get it yourself." Her steely glare broke through his annoyed expression, and he huffed. "Yes. Fine, I'll introduce you."

Just as he turned, though--

"Hamilton!" John Adams's jovial voice called a few feet down the bar at him, beckoning him over, and YN's eyes lit up. She had to stop herself from sprinting the, maybe, two yards to her right as Alex escorted her over, though her expression still read as starstruck. "How's it going?"

"It's been worse." Alex's grin grew to match Adams's, and he grabbed his hand, pulling him in for an amiable hug. "What about you? How's the last year of vice presidency going so far?"

"Couldn't ask for better, with Jefferson officially leaving our cabinet." The two men shared a knowing look, satisfaction obvious as Alex withdrew, holding Y/N's shoulder.

"I can say for sure that it won't be the same without him."

Adams snorted, just as his wife emerged from behind him, having grabbed their drinks from the bartender. He accepted his whiskey with a quick 'thank you' and a kiss on the cheek, before turning back to Alexander and Y/N. "Hey, have you met my wife, Abigail?"

"Don't believe so." He leaned in to shake her hand with a warm smile. "Alexander Hamilton. I'm the one who keeps the country from going broke."

"Abigail Adams. I'm the one who keeps the family from going broke." She gave a wry smile as she pulled away, and John scoffed.

"Right. Mr. Vice President over here isn't much of a breadwinner."

"Mm, but he is quite a breadspender." Abigail grinned, looking pleased with herself as she looped her arm back through John's, but he just rolled his eyes.

"And you've met my wife Eliza before, but this is our friend Y/N." Y/N reached out to shake both their hands, trying to contain the awed look in her eyes. "Eliza's at home sick with our son, but I didn't want to spend all evening lonely with our other lovely administration members."

"Tell me about it," John laughed. "It's great to meet you, Y/N."

"You as well, Vice President Adams. I'm... a bit of a fan, to be quite candid. You've done some incredible things throughout your career."

He let out a soft 'aww', as he pulled back from shaking her hands, waving her praise away absently. "Oh, please, it's John. A friend of Alex's is a friend of mine. And I can assure you, I'm a lot more impressive on paper."

"Take him at his word on that," Abigail added, leaning in with urgency, her tone falsely serious. "He means, like, a lot more impressive on paper. Like, miles from reality."

"They get it, love."

"Just trying to assist your point." The couple shared a pleased look, both their eyes shining, and Y/N had to grin.

"It's incredible to meet you, too, Mrs. Adams. I'm sure you're just as impressive in reality as you are on paper."

"She is," John piped in, and Abigail laughed.

"You both flatter me." She rolled her eyes, despite the grin playing at her lips. "And the pleasure really is all mine, Y/N. How do you two know each other?" She glanced between her and Alex.

"We actually go a ways back." She looked over at Alex, brow furrowed as she recalled. "I've been his sister-in-law's co-worker for number of years, and since we've been roommates, I've gotten to know Alex and Eliza pretty well."

"Where do you work, Y/N?"

"I'm a writer for the Washington Post, actually." She bit her lip, not sure of how much to say, nor of whether she could play this into gaining a contact. "I report on politics, and was actually just promoted to my current position covering federal affairs."

"The Washington Post?" Abigail asked, "You wouldn't happen to be the same Y/N who follows the Jefferson campaign, would you?"

She sighed, hung her head with a tired smile. "Don't remind me."

Her words elicited a collective laugh, before John piped in, "I've read your articles, actually. You're a great writer; it's scathing stuff."

"Hey, I might be biased, but my writing is just the facts." She held up her hands in defense. "But thank you, so much. I can't say how much it means to hear you say that."

"Can't help if it's true." He shrugged with a grin before pausing. "Say, are you on his campaign all the way up until the election?"

"That I am. Gotta love long-term assignments."

"'Course you do." He grinned. "Can I... give you my card, have you reach out to me if you ever need a contact on anything? Just, y'know, as a concerned citizen who'd rather not see Jefferson in office."

Her brows shot toward her hairline as he reached into his coat pocket, glancing over at Alex in her shellshocked state. "I... Yes, of course! That'd be incredible."

"Good." John handed her his card with a wink. "Please don't hesitate to reach out. Our democracy depends on it."

She laughed. "Don't I know it."

____________________

SHE SPENT THE rest of her evening back at the table trying to make getting wine-drunk off of fancy aged merlot seem as classy as possible, hoping it wasn't obvious when she snuck over to the bar for another (fourth) glass of gin instead. It was unclear whether the stuffy, formal atmosphere was getting to her head or if it was just the liquor, but her strained smile was beginning to melt into fatigue. She needed a rest.

Her patience was running thin as she forced a laugh at something someone had said. She wasn't sure who anymore, let alone what they said, but everyone else was laughing. Her regard for appearing out of place was waning as well.

Her tired hand fell to Alex's forearm on the table, giving it a gentle squeeze to get his attention.

"Hey, it alright with you if I go get some air?" She leaned in as she asked, a sense of urgency in her voice, and he raised a brow.

"Are you alright?"

She strained her smile further, though it seemed only to worry him more. "Just a bit of a headache. Mind if I step out?"

"Go for it." He gave her a worried smile as she stood from her seat, her napkin folded delicately on the table before her, the chair pushed gently out behind.

Her breathing relaxed as she turned away from the table. Her gaze darted all around and through the room; finding the nearest exit had become her first and only priority. The click of her heels against the ballroom floor melted into the clamor of the air. Deep breath in.

She hadn't looked back at their table as she walked, trying with everything in her to retain a calm, collected composure, and it took the full strength of her will to keep her steps straight and under control as she spotted a hallway branching out from the room. Deep breath out.

She slipped out of the room between the mass of gorgeously-dressed bodies, sighing as she reached her first gasp of air that wasn't polluted with pseudo-intellectualism. She lived for politics, but all in all, politicians weren't her cup of tea.

She continued down the hall while looking for somewhere out of sight to rest. For the most part, it was just alternate hallways branching out, a labyrinth designed if only to put an ache in her feet, before she stumbled upon a series of offices. Her eyes lit up.

The first door she tried was locked, but the next was open, and she didn't bother to look for the light switch as she stepped out of her heels. She flexed her feet in her pantyhose as she walked across the cool marble, collapsing momentarily in the chair that sat across from the desk, presumably for meetings.

She simply stretched for a moment, enjoying the solitude. Her eyes wandered across the walls before they landed on a bookcase, a little off to the side but packed to the brim with gilded titles. She glanced behind her out the office window, letting her curiosity get the best of her.

The books that day on its shelves seemed to be about any topic imaginable as she browsed the stacks, from recognizable titles -- Pride and Prejudice, Leviathan, The Second Treatise on Government -- to slightly more obscure ones, not to mention several in French. Whoever the shelves belonged to seemed to have interesting taste. She'd have liked to discuss it with them, she thought to herself as she appreciated the heavy volume of philosophy. Not enough Kant for her liking, though.

The person had even tucked some poetry away. She almost reached out to grab a Sylvia Plath, before a leather-bound volume of T. S. Eliot's works caught her eye. She tugged it out of its tight fit without a second thought, the beauty of the book itself getting the best of her.

The book fell open in her hand onto a particular work of his, its corner dog-eared, the page marked up, and where it met the spine painfully worn. She absentmindedly ran a finger over the annotations, knowing the poem by heart but silently appreciating this mystery reader's take on it.

The book nearly flew out of her hands, though, as she heard the door opening behind her. She jumped back where she stood, unsure how to explain to whoever this was the reason for her being there.

The light he flicked on only powered the lamp on the desk, but it was easy enough for them to make out one another's faces. Her eyes widened.

"Y/N?"

"Thomas?!" she exclaimed, panic flooding her system, "What are you doing here?"

An amused smile settled onto his lips as he entered the room. "Oh, so it's Thomas when we're alone?"

"That was just on reflex, don't take it too personally," she scowled, snapping the book shut in her hand. "You scared me."

"So usin' 'Thomas' is reflex, then, huh?" The way he raised a brow told Y/N that he was enjoying this a bit too much, and she huffed.

"What are you doing here, anyway?"

"It's my office. Least, last time I checked." He nodded toward the back of the sign on the window, which presumably marked the space as his own. She gaped for a moment longer, before pursing her lips, silently cursing her luck.

"God, of fucking course it is." She pinched the bridge of her nose, letting out a shuddering sigh. "Because who else's office could I have stumbled into when I had the entire building's worth of offices here."

"Yeah, it does seem like long odds." He shrugged, innocent expression falling across his features as he walked toward his desk. "Unless, of course, it was intentional."

He couldn't contain his grin as she fixed him with a withering glare. "You really think I'd choose to spend a second more around you than I had to?"

"You tell me." He smiled knowingly. "After all, you chose to spend more than a year followin' my campaign around. Seems pretty intentional to me."

Her huff was annoyed as she once again turned away, eyes scanning the bookshelf to try to find where she'd taken the volume from.

"What're you readin'?"

His voice came from closer this time, trying to get a look at what she'd chosen from the shelf. She eyed him skeptically, but his curiosity seemed to be genuine.

"Your collection of Eliot poems." She held up the book with her words, and his soft grin came in response.

"Good taste," he commented, leaning onto the desk beside her. She raised a brow. She wouldn't have expected him to be much for poetry, but it wasn't an unpleasant surprise. She didn't notice the small smile growing on her face. "Got that one as a high school graduation present. Haven't let it out of my sight since."

"I can tell." She held up the book with an amused brow raised, looking at all the rips and tears, water damage and multiple spine repairs. "It's been worn out."

"It's important to me." His voice was quiet at that, even with his smile, and she felt as though she'd accidentally broken through to something she wasn't supposed to see. A vulnerability she wasn't meant to receive.

She held his gaze for a moment, and despite his words, he looked entirely nonchalant, and she reopened the book to the page in question, glancing briefly down at it. She bit her lip. "Why this poem?" He raised an eyebrow, and she shrugged, simply curious. "The page was bookmarked. And covered in scrawled blue ink. Seemed important."

He chuckled, glancing down at her, and his stare was knowing as she looked back at him. "It is important. May I?"

He reached for the book Y/N was still holding, and though it took her a moment, once she understood his intimation, she immediately passed it over. She had to ignore how her skin burned as her fingers brushed against his. He opened the book.

He paused a moment, running a hand over the aging marks that had been left on the page, staring fondly down at the words inscribed in what was obviously an old book. "God, I haven't looked at this old thing since I packed it away into this bookshelf. Almost can't remember when I forgot about it."

With how he stared down at the book, gaze faraway and smile gentle, Y/N couldn't help but feel like an intruder. The poetry was obviously something personal for him, and it seemed as though she was breaking an intimate moment between him and an old friend, especially with how bittersweet his smile was when he looked back up.

"The poem's about loss. Or change." He sighed, tugging at the corner of the paper absentmindedly. "Or leavin'. It's gotten me through a lotta hard times; I used to read it almost every day when I first started college. Eliot always seems to know how to say what I don't."

"Yeah," Y/N breathed, though breathless from the immediate proximity, "He has a way with words, huh?"

Thomas's grin immediately returned as she spoke, him having been broken from his melancholy reminiscence, and he looked down at her with his eyes gleaming in the low light. "You a fan, sweetheart?"

She couldn't help smiling at his words. "I have a casual appreciation."

"And that's why you chose this book out of the hundreds I got scattered around this office?"

Again, the laugh his tone coaxed from her was involuntary; she felt unusually comfortable with his playful demeanor (too comfortable, worryingly comfortable), and she shrugged. "Fine, call it a bit of a fixation." He stayed quiet, just raising an eyebrow, and she hesitated, searching his expression before she continued, "I've been writing poetry since high school, and he was a pretty big influence on me. I actually almost got a tattoo of some of his writing when I was in college."

"Yeah?" His smile was inviting, now, and she found herself feeling vulnerable this time around. "What'd you wanna get tatted?"

"I never decided," Y/N chuckled, before pursing her lips. "I was never decisive enough -- or brave enough -- to actually go through with it."

"Shoulda done it." Thomas moved to put the book back onto his shelf, brushing against her shoulder and leaving Y/N alone at the desk. She was glad he couldn't see the way she shivered at the contact. "All this isn't gonna last forever, y'know?"

"I s'pose so." She folded her arms, grinning. She found his conviction amusing, but at the same time, his words rang true. "Maybe I'll go back to get it done someday, live on the edge a little."

"You should." He turned around with that, having found somewhere to fit the book back in through his jigsaw puzzle of a shelf, and found himself nearly toe-to-toe with Y/N, where she leaned back onto his desk. Her pulse jumped, but she didn't move.

"I dunno." Her voice returned more quietly, unfolding her arms to prop herself up on the mahogany table. "I think I'm a little too afraid of the consequences. I don't wanna..." She swallowed thickly at the way he looked at her, only growing closer. Her tone was measured as she continued, feeling her pulse quicken as she finished, "do something I'll regret. I'm not a reckless person, Thomas."

"Sounds like you need to learn how to be brave sometimes," he chuckled. His easy nonchalance was only putting her more on edge, and she grew more and more certain that the distance between them was no mistake. "Stop worrying, let yourself live."

She pulled her feet in closer to the table, drawing herself to her full height, and as she could've counted his eyelashes in the little distance between them, she was no longer sure they were talking about her tattoo.

"If you only ever focus on the consequences, you're never gonna be able to live in the moment." She let out a shallow breath, entire body tense. "Relax a little." His grin was wide, the look in his eyes wolfish. She could hardly breathe.

His hand came to rest at the side of her jaw, his thumb on the slope of her chin, just below her bottom lip, and she looked up at him with undiluted anxiety in her gaze.

"Thomas." Nerves were evident in her voice, fear mingling with anticipation, but she didn't try to stop him, and he chuckled.

"Relax." The word was hardly a breath as he leaned in toward her, before pausing with his eyebrows raised, giving her plenty of opportunity to push him away, tell him how out of line he was. She bit her lip, searching his eyes for some kind of a motive, but all she saw were his dark eyes blazing into her own, felt his calloused skin cradling her jaw.

She didn't push him away.

Her eyes began to flutter shut, body slowly relaxing under his touch, and she could feel his warm breath dancing featherlight across her lips, his chest pressing against her, hips pinning her against the wooden desk. His other hand drifted down to her waist.

The next sound came from the hall.

"Thomas!"

Y/N immediately tensed, eyes wide and meeting his own panicked stare, faces still just millimeters apart. When the voice moved to a hand jiggling the brass door handle, her hands moved to his chest, frantically pushing him away to try to maximize the little distance there was between them during the little time she had. His hand had just begun to move from her cheek when Dolley burst through the door, smile wide.

Immediately, she began to look nearly as startled as they were, though she still had claim to not being in such a compromising position.

"Oh! I-- Thomas." She froze for a moment, gaping at the pair. "Y/N! I.. I'm so sorry! I, ah, didn't mean to interrupt anything... between you two, I was just--"

"Oh, no, no, no." Y/N immediately walked Dolley's apology back, sliding out of Thomas's grasp as she scrambled aside. "No, I-- You--" She sighed, taking a moment to regain her bearings. "This is not what it looks like."

It's exactly what it looks like, she thought, though, jaw clenching in spite.

"No, Dolley, really, this, ah..." Thomas trailed off, looking to Y/N for assistance she didn't know how to give. She was just as panicked as he.

"Don't worry about it," Dolley said, immediately trying to retreat back through the door. "I... This... I'll forget I saw this. It's fine."

"No, Dolley!" Y/N lunged after her, catching the door and risking a glance backward as Thomas rushed out with them. "I swear, we were just headed out. Nothing happened, it wasn't--"

"What were you lookin' for me for, Dolley?" Thomas's voice had somehow regained all of its composure, something Y/N couldn't understand with how frazzled she felt. "I just stepped out to check on somethin'."

Her gaze was still skeptical as she looked at him, and then spared a glance over at Y/N. "There was just someone asking about your campaign, and I figured you'd want to talk to them." She left it at that, her voice shaky.

Y/N let them lag behind her as they walked, though, picking up her pace frantically. She wanted to remove herself from the situation as quickly as possible, and she tried to focus on finding Alex while suppressing the words which threatened to emerge in her mind.

Thomas Jefferson had been about to kiss her.

She shuddered at the thought, taking a deep breath, trying to find some semblance of level-headedness.

Worse yet, she had been about to let him.

The thought sunk in her chest.