#john laurens oneshot

[unicornsaures]

Yknow what? Fuck you! *Expresses emotions through historical figure instead of being normal*

[kittykatkatelol]

so um finished that oneshot thing :33

[ofmonticello]

Here are links to the songs and brief descriptions in case you don't know any of them!

Picture You

This song has a very strong double meaning. The narrator wonders if the person they desire feels the same longing. It's quite sexual, but if this song wins, the oneshot will be pretty PG. I included this song because, while the lyrics of the song strongly suggest a particular action that comes with desire, it can also be taken completely innocently.

The One That Got Away

This one is a bit self explanatory. It's about a past lover, someone who could have (and maybe even should have) been "the one." It's beautiful and sad, and would definitely make for an angsty plot!

bad idea right?

This one is pretty silly. Basically, the singer ponders the idea of going to see her ex, fully aware that this idea is not a good one. The line, "I just tripped and fell into his bed!" is quite entertaining and I think this song could make for a very silly oneshot.

I Do

This song is simply beautiful. It follows a singer who thinks back on a relationship that didn't go quite right, even though she is still in love. When her former lover finds someone new, she insists that their new love will never be the same as what the singer and lover had.

Don't Speak

This last song is truly one of my favorite songs of all time. It's about a breakup, where the speaker doesn't want to hear anymore of what her ex has to say. She already knows what she's going to hear, and she doesn't want to be hurt by it anymore.

I hope that these songs are a good selection! I know most of them are sad, but the stories that they could create are amazing! Also, it's not limited to Jamilton! It truly depends on the plot I come up with based on the song you choose!

A Jamilton oneshot is coming soon (unrelated to any songs), so stay tuned for that! I will be posting it on Ao3, and then sharing the link on here most likely. I've also been continuing to outline a chapter fic (also Jamilton) which I will hopefully be writing very soon.

If you read this entire thing, thank you so much!! And if you listen to any new music because of this post, let me know!

[betsey-laurens-hamilton]

attention ELAMS ONESHOT john survived au!

I can't believe I haven't posted this. it's one of my favorite one shots ever. its john and eliza, he gets to the hamilton household alive and well after everyone thinks he was dead bc he wouldn't send letters to alexander for a while. its giving he wasn't dead he was just depressed

anyway enjoy!! I love them so much! 🥹

⋆ ☼ ☽

“He looks happy.”

John looked over at the woman standing near the counter. He struggled a little to keep his eyes plainly open but did his best nonetheless.

“Alexander?”

“Yes. You two are a good fit.”

A little smile made its way to Eliza’s lips and she gently dipped some cotton into an alcohol-based solution.

“Well, I appreciate that.”

Laurens winced when Elizabeth placed the cotton on one of his open wounds, though maybe that was just because he had relaxed and completely forgot to prepare for the pain.

“Fuck.”

“It’s about the third time I hear you curse in the past hour, Mr. Laurens, you sound like a sailor.”

His blue eyes darted to her. Eliza was focused on his wound, however, she managed to sneak a touch of a fun tone to her voice. She was not very serious about what she’d said. He snickered after a few seconds staring at her, and shook his head.

“Sorry, Mrs. Hamilton.”

“Please call me Eliza. As appealing as the title is to me, I feel like we should be going past formalities by now.”

“Eliza. Sorry, Eliza.”

Both of them chuckled a little bit, looking and sounding a tad shyer than they usually did.

“I am merely messing with. How did you manage this wound, by the way? My husband has spoken several times of your endearing ease to get yourself in trouble. The war is already over, what could you be up to?”

“Well…” Laurens sighed. “I was simply serving my duty to the country. Fighting for the land. The british are yet to leave us alone fully.”

“Are those battles not more dangerous than the previous ones?”

“Sometimes.”

Eliza stared up at John from the wound for a few seconds. He shrugged.

“Well… Alexander has also spoken of his desire to see you again, written letters quite a few times, yet you never seem to acknowledge it.”

John frowned, eyes on her once again focused face. She was bold, that mistress of his companion. Perhaps why they fit so well.

“A man on duty can’t give everything up to pay a friend a visit any time he wishes, no matter how much he might wish otherwise.”

“No, but you have had plenty of free time despite your efforts to keep yourself busy, so I’ve heard.”

“I do get busy with things other than battles. I have personal matters, do I not?”

“Exactly what we are talking about, Mr. Laurens. I was just quite curious about the reason my husband’s best friend would rather not show up to his wedding day.”

John couldn’t help his cheeks from warming up at Mrs. Hamilton’s comment. Did she know he had also been invited by her husband to the aftermath of it? Was it something that they had thought of together or was she oblivious to the entire situation? John couldn’t even begin to wonder how a woman like her would react to such indecent ideas. There was, however, a curious spark about it, hidden away…

“John?”

“Uhh…”

Eliza wiped the soaked cotton over his wound one last time, ripping a wince out of him.

“I’m not angry at you, John. Alexander might be a little, but I’m not. I am quite curious, though, but I don’t want you to speak on subjects you may not be comfortable with or find displeasing.” Eliza collected the dirty cottons and stood up, scaring Laurens slightly. “Stay. Are you alright?”

He just looks at her, blue guilty eyes and a hard swallow followed by an apology and yes. A few seconds later, Eliza returned with bandages and a glass of water.

“Thank you.”

“It’s nothing. If you feel better, sit up a tad.”

And then he did as said, holding in a grunt of pain.

Eliza worked in silence for a few seconds. Sometimes, she’d glance up at him, but John was unaware, having closed his eyes. Just tight enough, Schuyler wrapped bandages around his arm, making sure to soothe any rough patches beforehand.

“You know, your hair resembles wheat.”

“Hm?” Laurens blinks his eyes open, slightly unaware of his surroundings. Eliza worked like an angel, so much better than any nurse ever did and, god, he was tired.

“The blonde in your hair. I knew it reminded me of something. It’s wheat in the morning sun.”

A breath got stuck in his throat. How was he supposed to hold on much longer?

John swallowed.

“Specifically morning sun?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Mr. Laurens!” Eliza abruptly looked up at him.

“John. Call me John.”

“Fine. John, how come you do not know the difference? You’re an artist as far as I know…” She sighed. “The morning sun is… well, definitely less yellow, leaning more into a whiter shade of sunlight. It hits the wheat and reflects a light beige, a beautiful one at that. It’s different.”

He stays in silence for a brief second, only to realize there’s a smile on his face.

“It’s…” Eliza sighed, cheeks flushing slightly but also quite a smiley expression. “It’s one of the most beautiful hours of the day. I wish Alexander would rise earlier more often, just to appreciate the daylight and the fresh air of mornings.”

“I would always try to convince him back in army days…”

“And would it work?”

“Definitely not,” He chuckled.

Eliza joined in with quiet giggles.

“I forced him out of bed sometimes for a walk. He despised it.” John added.

“He has the loveliest grumpy morning face.”

“He does…”

Both of them lean gently into their smiles, sighing in content one after the other. John, however, quickly noticed what he said and shot Eliza an indiscreet wide gaze, which the brunette met with a calm, yet aware one. A knowing, very discreet gaze.

Heavens, did she know?

Laurens rapidly cleared his throat, shaking his head. “Either way we never spent too much time out, General Washington always had plenty of work to do, much more pleasant for him.”

“Yes, the writing?” Eliza finished up the bandage, checking it around a few times.

“Yes.”

“Hide the pen and present him with a sweet activity once he comes asking for it. Just a tip… Well,” She grinned. “You’re all done, Mr. La.. John. You’re done, John. I suppose I should leave you to rest.”

“Thank you, Eliza. Truly.”

“It’s nothing, John. Good night, just shout if you need something.”

He chuckled, meeting her gaze a last time before she opened and closed the door behind herself.

“Good night, ‘Liza.”

[adorawritesalot]

I have cutely resurfaced, now, John Laurens (my beloved) and Alex Kralie with an s/o that's RICH rich, like comes from generational wealth and is very well known

I hope you've been eating or drank some water btw cause you deserve it <33

GUYS!!!! im back! exams are over, and i couldnt be happier. i am sorry to everyone whos adk has been ignored for a long time, ill be working on finishing them. send more! i love writing, epsecially for soneone i know will enjoy it!

also, if theres anyone who likes six of crows.... send that, too. ive been obsessed with them (and shadow and bone, obviously) and i would love to practice writing different characters!

i have drank and ate! thank u sm ily!!!! u deserve it too:) i hope its not a problem i made john in a modern!au:) this also might be a bit diff, idk. im very tired HAHA

please mention if u want headcannons or a oneshot!! i wouldnt want u to be unhappy with any of my works!

John Laurens

You met in college. He didn't like you very much at first- he thought you would be just a stuck-up kid, considering your family's status and wealth.

He could not be more wrong.

You got paired up with him for a project, and he knew that he was gone for the first time you smiled at him.

You quickly became friends. He introduced you to his friends (one of which you already knew; Marquis de Laffayette was quite known amongst the rich).

You started dating shortly after. A little later, you invited him to your house for the first time. He was very nervous, and not just because he would be meeting your parents. He didn't come from the wealthiest family, so this was a new territory to him. What if he said something wrong? Spilt something on himself, or worse, on something accidentally?

His worries quickly vanished when he saw your smile. That smile that could light up the room, the world. He was instantly calmer.

Well, after dating for a while, his birthday came up. Obviously, he told you not to go all out- he didn't want you to think he was with you just for money (even though you wouldn't even think of that).

But, you did go all out. You went on a picnic, went to see a movie, and then, after an eventful day of roaming the streets of New York, you came to your house.

He wasn't expecting anything else. He was wrong, though.

You bought him a turtle.

Alex Kralie

He didn't know you grew up rich. Or were rich, for that matter.

You've been already dating for some time when he started writing the script for Marble Hornets.

When he finished, the only thing that stopped him from actually filming was a crucial thing; he didn't own a camera. And he didn't have actors.

So, obviously, you bought him the best camera that you could get your hands on.

When he saw it, he bawled. And said a lot of thank yous and I love yous.

He asked you how did you get the money for that. In reply, you just told him your family has a literal crest and invited him to meet your parents.

The shock on his face when he saw your childhood house- no, mansion - was quite amusing. You would laugh if it wasn't for the nervosity of your boyfriend meeting your filthy rich parents.

Let's just say that you and your parents never stopped financing him and his ideas. They love him.

[thenasoneshots]

John Laurens Oneshot - Strangers to Lovers

Requested?: No

Prompt: “Take my seat.”

Type of oneshot: Fluff

Timing: Modern AU

Reader's Relations: None

Warnings: Mentions of cheating, swearing, random people being dicks in public

Other notes: None?

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

I sighed in relief as the bus I needed finally arrived at the stop. Once I got on, I sighed, seeing there were no available seats and grabbed a hold of a nearby pole for standing passengers, placing a hand on my 6-month-pregnant stomach, hearing a whisper of, “Son, come here and let the lady sit down.”

“No! I want to sit down!” the child replied. I just sent a smile the the father in a ‘it’s fine, I’m used to it’ way.

That’s when I felt a tap on my shoulder, “Miss, here, take my seat. I’m getting off soon anyway.”

I turned around and was met with a freckled face and brown hair, tied up in a low ponytail, the man wearing a white t-shirt with turtles on it. I smiled as he stood up and thanked him, sitting down, feeling relieved at the weight being removed from my legs.

“Thank you again, sir. I like your T-shirt by the way.”

“Thank you. Turtles are just the best!”

I let out a giggle, “I agree.”

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

A few minutes later the bus arrived at my stop. I stood up and thanked the driver before getting off and finishing the small walk home I had from the bus stop. That’s when I felt another tap on the shoulder, “Sorry, Miss. I didn’t get your name. It seems we were getting off at the same place.”

“Oh, I’m (Y/n). What about you?”

“John. You’ve got a pretty name. Oh, shit, I shouldn’t be flirting, I can tell you’re already in a relationship,” he muttered the last statement his eyes darting to my stomach.

“T-thank you, and it’s fine. I was, but not anymore. My boyfriend was excited about the two of us having a baby, but a few days ago, I found out he had been cheating on me since before he got me pregnant and that he was dumping me for her when I told him there was a chance that our baby wouldn’t be perfect. I don’t have the best eyesight, I’m dyslexic, and I’m a carrier of a genetic ‘deformity’, I hate that word, a thing that my mum has that could get passed down to this child. The girl my ex was cheating on me with has no problems with her DNA, has perfect eyesight and she’s gorgeous. Sorry for ranting, we’ve probably walked past your house by now.”

John just shook his head, “Nope! Plus it wouldn’t be right for me to let you walk home alone. Who knows who could take advantage of you? And your ex is wrong for not seeing you for how perfect you are. You need someone who will love every part of you and the child, no matter what they look like,” he spoke, putting a bit of my hair behind my ear that had fallen out of place, causing my face to turn slightly pink.

We ended up learning that we lived in the same block of flats, and right next to each other, and two months later, John made me move in with him so that he wouldn’t worry about me being on my own and having to go the hospital alone, then I met his very loud friends…..

-------------------JOHN’S POV

“John, what’s got you so distracted?”

“Nothing Alex. I’m fine,” I replied, moving my hand and pushing a bit of hair that had fallen into (Y/n)’s face out of the way, who was currently asleep on my shoulder.

“I have a feeling it’s something to do with (Y/n). Mon ami, I can see it in your eyes, you love her, non?”

I immediately looked up, staring Laf in the face, “W-what?!”

“I knew it. Just tell her, mon ami, before someone snatches her up,” Laf replied, a smirk on his face.

“You wouldn’t dare,” I muttered, seeing him looking at (Y/n).

“Tell her and I won’t.”

At that moment, (Y/n) woke up with a scream, “I-it hurts!” making my eyes widen, “Laf can I borrow your car? Mine’s in for a service today.”

“On one condition; I’m driving.”

“Fine. Just get (Y/n) to the hospital, please.”

-----------------------------YOU POV

“Thank you for helping me, John. I don’t think I would have made it without your help,” I spoke, panting as I held Jane in my arms, the baby girl being sound asleep.

“No problem. Glad I was of some help.”

“Mon ami, don’t you have something to say to (Y/n)?”

I blinked at Laf’s words and asked John, “Do you?”

“Laf, I hate you so much….” John muttered, “If I have to do this, you three must leave.” Laf and Alex sighed, Herc eventually had to drag them out of the room, leaving me and John alone, “So what did you have to say?”

“Since I met you, I felt something… a good something. I realised I’ve fallen in love with you, (Y/n). I know you probably don’t feel the same, I mean we have only known each other for a few months but-” I cut him off by placing a finger on his lips, “I love you too, John.”

His face lit up and I giggled, “I’m not messing with you, you can kiss me if you want.”

That was all he needed to bend down and carefully kiss me, careful not to disturb Jane.

—--------------------END OF ONESHOT

And another one written… I have one more in my head, that might get written tomorrow…

[stealingyourbones]

Hi, I don't know if you'd even answer this ask but I've been loving all your prompts and been sucked into the dp/dc crossover content.

Im curious about trying to make some oneshots or fics myself but I'm not well versed in dc at all except very basic knowledge so I'm really nervous.

Do you have any advise for how to start or suggestions to help some one jump right in?

Ok I'm gonna be using this slightly as an excuse to give y'all a DC reading guide and also:

Personal Opinion 1: You really don't have to read any comics to learn DC. I'd highly recommend going on Youtube and watching some summarizing History of the Batfamily videos so you know the general lore. Reading a bunch of solely DC-related fics also helps greatly. It can get you immersed in the world and learn tidbits of backstory and characterization without having to touch a single comic. if you feel confident enough that you know the character? Go for it!! If you're still unsure and you want to write it anyways? Have a beta reader who's well versed in DC help point out moments that may be OOC or help fix characterization a bit. You never know how good you are at writing that character until you put your pen to paper! Personal opinion 2: go to your local library, go to the graphic novel section, and see if any comics catch your eye. Pick it up and give it a read. There truly isn’t a perfect place to jump in for comics. Continuity is all Willy Nilly and confusing. There’s no perfect spot to jump in but there are personal recommendations or preferences that people will tell you to start on.

I highly recommend listening to podcasts about characters that you’re intrigued with to see if you want to spend the time researching and reading about said characters.

Other tertiary opinion.

I really only have Batman comic recommendations but a friend of mine gave me a list in order for Batman comics to read so here it is:

Batman Year One.

Batman Venom.

Batman Long Halloween.

Batman Dark Victory.

Robin Year One.

Batgirl Year One.

Nightwing Year One.

Batman Cult

Batman Death In The Family

Knightfall

Batman No Man’s Land

Under the Red Hood

Batman Zero Year

That’s what I got. You don’t have to read every single comic to know everything but at least reading a summary of the comic so you’re caught up and not confused as you go into the next comic is something I’d recommend. Batman Knightfall and No Man’s Land are super long and really a drag to read through. Like genuinely they’re painful as hell to read through. I’d recommend reading a synopsis online or listen to a podcast about it.

Other comics in general I’d recommend that I've read that I think are good depictions of the characters:

Superman: Up In The Sky. by Tom King.

John Constantine Hellblazer: Dangerous Habits. #41-46. by Garth Ennis & Will Simpson.

The Spectre by John Austrander.

Shazam! The Monster Society of Evil. by Jeff Smith.

Blue And Gold. by Dan Jurgens

Victor & Nora: A Gotham Love Story. by Lauren Myracle

Batman Vol 1 & 2 (The Court of Owls & The City of Owls). By Scott Snyder.

Again, there are definitely some better comics out there and a lot of comic runs I didn't add on. That's simply because I haven't read the others. Some of these characters you might not care for, and that's completely fine! You don't have to read them then.

Podcasts I'd reccomend:

Character Corner. Their takes and reviews are wonderful. I adore this podcast and found out about many amazing comic runs from this show.

Geek History Lesson. It has a gimmick and it's fun. It's not as in-depth as Character Corner but it does have a far larger array of Characters to listen to and learn about. There's also is this ao3 post that has a batshit insane amount of info on how to navigate and learn about Batman and Gotham

[notmydayjob]

a walk in two worlds | john laurens x reader.

words: 1.8k

warnings: a little bit about slavery just because its john, parent death, fluff and some possibly sexual comments if you think on it

desc: your father is british general whose been called to fight in georgia, with him gone and you alone in new york things are bound to happen, especially after you meet a certain soldier boy.

this is my first hamilton fic and I wanted to say a couple things before it got it started. First of all I am white writer and I write my fics to be inclusive but there may be things that I may not realize are excluding people because I’ve had the privilege of not being excluded so if you notice anything then please message me and I’ll be more than happy to edit it. second i wrote this at 3 am and even if nobody reads it i’ll probably make a pt2 but lemme know.

i kinda picked and choosed what i wanted to use from hamilton and real life so obviously not historically accurate 

There’s nothing quite like summer in the city, children running in the streets, the sound of hooves on the brick laid roads, and the hot sun shining down on busy men and women. You had just moved into the city with your father but soon after you arrived your father was called away to join the fight in Georgia. You were left behind with only your housekeeper who functioned as a Nanny when you were a child. Your mother had died when you were very young and your father worked so Joan was the closest thing to family you had. Before your father left he gave you three instructions. One, the city can be a dangerous place for a young beautiful girl, don’t go downtown. Two, if you must stray from the house never go anywhere unaccompanied. Three, the revolutionists are reckless and ruinous, stay away. Your father was a smart man but often worried too much especially for you. It took nearly three days to convince Joan to let you leave the house. “I will come with you then, just let me finish my chores, and then we may go, but we are staying uptown, it’s nice here, awfully quiet too.” She said when she finally caved. You thanked her profusely but unbeknownst to her when she turned her back to you, you slipped out the back door. When your father left he took the carriage with him and the coachman had not yet returned so you had to walk into the city. You weren’t complaining though, the weather was warm and the fresh air was refreshing after a  week of house arrest. As you approached the downtown district of Manhattan you noticed a noticeable drop in wealth due to many of its residents being either college students, revolutionists, or merchants. A young man stood on a soapbox in the city square ranting about the unjust taxes and the recent events in Boston while a large crowd cheered around him. Propaganda flyers were hung on every storefront and street lamp, you took one and quickly shoved it into the bottom of your basket next to a small bag of coins. For about 20 minutes you strolled around going between stands of vendors selling fruits, fans, furniture, and everything in between. You stopped at the stand of a man selling vegetables and began picking out a few. You clearly felt a presence behind you but stayed focused on your task. “What is a pretty young lady like you doin’ in the city all by herself.” The presence spoke smoothly. You looked up from under the brim of your hat to see a man around your age maybe a few years older. His curly black hair was tied up tightly at the back of his head. Your eyes then traveled to the rich blue coat he proudly wore. “Minding my own business.” You said flatly as you turned back to what you were doing. “You know there are a lot of dangerous people out here who might want to take advantage of such a pretty girl.” He said clearly thinking he was very smooth. “Is that so?” You responded as you paid for your goods. Maybe you were naive but he didn’t seem threatening, he seemed young, reckless, and a flirt which could be just as bad. “Yes ma’am, maybe I should be your escort to-” He began again but you cut him off. “What’s your name, sir.” You asked him curtly and for once turned to fully face him. “John Laurens.” He tipped his head to you. “Don’t you have something to protest Mr. Laurens.” You brushed past him and continued down the street but he was quick to follow you. “I’m a wonderful multitasker.” He chuckled softly at his own joke. You wanted to hate him, you wanted to believe everything your father said about revolutionists but this man was charming and had a gravitational pull that was nearly impossible for you to resist. You knew if he stopped following you then you would follow him, you just hoped he didn’t know that. “I’ve never seen you around here before.” “Is that supposed to be a question, Mr. Laurens.” From the side of your vision, you could see the grin on his face, he liked having you riled up. “My father and I just moved uptown.” “So a rich pretty girl.” He said to himself with the full intention of you hearing to which you scoffed. “Am I wrong?” He stepped out in front of you locking his honey brown eyes with yours. You simply rolled your eyes in protest. “That’s what I thought.” His smirk was so genuine and charming it made you smile back to which he beamed brightly. “So what does the pretty girl’s father do for such wealth.” He posed. “Old money.” You stated simply to avoid the topic but he was clearly not satisfied. “He’s a general.” You stared intently over at him to gauge his reaction. John immediately stopped in his tracks and the smirk on his fell. “I take it we’re on different sides of the war.” He nodded slowly not meeting your eyes. His sudden quietness intrigued you, it seemed like that would have only made him mouthier. “That’s right.” Your voice was nearly inaudible but your beg for him not to turn away was loud enough for him to stay even for just a moment longer. You were not content with those being your last words so you continued: “My father believes that the King is a just one.” You chose your words intentionally, hoping he would take the bait yet shocked when he did. “And what do you believe?” You didn’t quite know how to respond to his question. No one had ever asked for your political opinion, especially not a man. “Well,” The small grin was already appearing on your face. “The price of tea is far too high nowadays.” The smile was quick to come to his face though he played it off with a joking scoff and eye roll. “So, does the beautiful young lady have a name?” “Y/n.” “Y/n,” He repeated your words testing it out to see if he liked it, apparently he did because the next thing he asked was where the two of you were headed next. You went to the silversmith, and he talked about growing up on a plantation in South Carolina and the things he saw happen to his father’s slaves. You went to the bakery and he told you his dreams of giving those men their freedom so they could join him in fighting in the war. You found him more endearing the longer you talked to him. You let your guard down and showed him your interest in what he had to say and you no longer tried to hide the laughs and smiles that he pulled out of you. “What about you?” He asked as he held the door to the general store open for you. “What about me?” You asked promptly. “Oh, come on, I’ve done nothing but talk, you have to return the favor.” His smirk grew quickly. You simply rolled your eyes but let yourself smile to show that you found the joke at least a little funny. “There’s not much to tell until two weeks ago I stayed in my home back in London and did what I was asked.” You explained. “Will you grab the jam jar on the top shelf for me?” You could probably reach it but you wanted to see how quickly he would please you. He in fact did follow your request but not before taking a step closer to you, pressing you against the shelf as he reached over you to grab the jar above your head. “You don’t seem like the type to quietly obey.” John’s voice was low, lower than you’d ever heard it before and quiet enough so that you were the only one who heard his words. He did this on the purpose of course, what he said was only for you. He brought his hand down to give you the jar, your hand resting on his for just a moment. That’s when you realized this was the first time you’d touched, and now that’s all you wanted to do and the brushing of hands wasn’t nearly enough. As you went to stutter out an answer the shouting that was coming through the front door pulled both of you out of your moment. “Y/n M/n L/n, there you are, oh my god!” Joan ran straight for you. Her pale cheeks flushed and grey hair falling loose from her low bun. “I thought you’d run away, do you know how upset your father will be?” “Father isn’t here, you don’t have to tell him anything.” You proposed. “Is this your mother?” John interjected as he held his hand out for her to take. “No, she’s my handler.” You said with a hint of annoyance. Joan gave John her hand and he promptly placed a kiss on the back of it, you felt yourself become envious of her hand. Her cheeks turned bright red, you were sure she would tell you about how she hasn’t gotten this much attention from men since she was 20. “Joan this is John Laurens, John Laurens this is Joan.” You nearly groaned out. Joan quickly spoke up again right when you saw her eyes fall on Johns’s coat. “Oh my! Y/n we must be headed home now!” She grabbed your hand and began to drag you to the door. “Joan, Joan!” You shouted for attention before dangling your basket in front of her face. “I’ll pay for these.” She took the basket from your hands. “You wait outside.” She shooed you away. You exited the shop making sure that John was following. “Maybe we should make a run for it.” You turned to John as he chuckled. “I don’t think so, you’ll give the poor woman a heart attack.” He said then a silence fell between you. “I don’t want this to be the last time I see you though.” “Neither do I.” You said softly. “May I write you?” John quickly turned towards you, swooping your hands into his and holding them close to his heart. “Yes.” You nodded as you stared intently and how he held you. “John, this won’t be easy, my father would never-” “I know.” He said simply as he smiled at you and for just a moment you didn’t care about what your father would say. “Alright, Y/n, it’s time for us to head home,” Joan said as she came out the door. “Goodbye, Y/n.” He took your hand and placed a kiss on the back of it. “Goodbye, John Laurens.”

[astralaffairs]

If you're taking asks, can I get "did you really have to give me so many hickeys" with Laurens? Thank you! I've re-read Freedom of the Press too many times to count, I love it so much

aww thank you!! i've had major writer's block with fotp 05, so i hope these drabbles hold y'all over until I can get it out. side note -- i've been doing sm writing for john lately and?? he's absolutely adorable???

---

You'd been avoiding John's workplace for about as long as you'd known him. You'd met him through a mutual friend, incidentally one of his colleagues, and hearing them discuss their job, their coworkers and clients, turned you off to the corporate world the moment you began to learn about it. Since you and he had been together, of course, he'd told you more and more, and since you'd moved in with him, you'd begun to feel like you could reconstruct his entire office from the ground up. As much as you hated the topic, it was his life, and if you wanted him, it came with the role. It was a trade-off you were more than eager to make.

However, actually breaking the boundary between your and his worlds was a line you hadn't yet crossed. So when he asked you to go his annual office party, a celebration of the corporation's progress and profits, your resistance was all but endless. He saw the party as the next step in your relationship; you saw it as pushing you further out of it.

When the time came, you couldn't say no -- it was clear how much this meant to him, and one night out of the rest of your life felt like a small sacrifice to make.

So that was exactly how you found yourself in the over-glamorous sixtieth floor of a corporate skyscraper. (John had been quick to catch onto the fact that "corporate" was a turn-off. At least you wouldn't be trying to rub one out in his place of work.) It wasn't quite what you'd expected, admittedly. Marble floors, glass doors and walls, gilded chandeliers, floor-to-ceiling windows -- you could go on.

It was a black-tie event. You'd arrived at the floor of the office huddled close to John, his arm around your waist, you pleading with him until the very last minute to go home as he only chuckled, kissed your cheek and all but pulled you out of the elevator.

"But what if we went home," you whined in his ear, clinging to his arm, and he only rolled his eyes, now scanning the room for who-knows-what. A sly smile crept onto your face as you leaned in, pulling him closer. "Promise I'd make it worth your time."

He could hear the mischief in your tone, and while he appeared moderately amused at your attempts, he gave you a pointed look. "Not the time, baby. Can you be good, just for one night?"

Your lips fell into a hard line, considering his demeanor as he raised an eyebrow, and you sighed. With your arms around his neck, you pulled him down to your level so you could kiss him on the nose. "Only for you," you whispered, and his smile was undeniable as he briefly leaned down to kiss you properly.

"Then c'mon."

You swallowed your exhausted groan as he tugged you toward a group of his colleagues -- these appeared to be the ones you'd heard about most often, his closest friends, and as he introduced them, you couldn't help but play back the stories he'd told you in your head. You'd obviously met Hercules -- he was the one who introduced you to John in the first place -- and Alex had dropped by your apartment a number of times, so you'd slowly familiarized yourself with him. However, everyone else's names immediately triggered a word association. Eliza: catching the communal microwave on fire -- three times. Lafayette: getting half the staff drunk while working overtime. Maria: serving as the divorce lawyer for one of her co-workers' spouses. The list sure did go on.

They all seemed incredibly friendly, however, so you decided to make nice and not let your aversion to gilded capitalism ruin everyone's night. The things you did for your boyfriend. 

And so, you humored John. You met his boss. You stood by while they discussed corporate law, made esoteric jokes that you knew you couldn't begin to understand, and laughed when the group had obviously deemed it appropriate. You hardly left John's side; you didn't think you'd have made it through the night if he'd expected you to socialize independently. There were two things you thought you could honestly say in the night's favor -- John was absolutely beaming as he finally had the opportunity to show you off to his colleagues and friends, which wholly validated your reason for acquiescing to his invitation with little resistance, and the company had splurged on the wine and cheese for which you'd never have been willing to fork over such unholy amounts of cash.

You were careful not to drink too much, wanted to stay as far from the verge of tipsy as you could manage so as not to make a fool of yourself in front of the entire office, but you allowed yourself two glasses of the $600 merlot from the end of the refreshments table. Moreover, you shamelessly loaded up on cheese.

That was the only reason you ever had to steal away from John for a moment. It seemed that few of the employees were going to pillage the snacks, which made it feel all the more like your well-deserved karma for deciding to come, so John only laughed every time you told him you were going back to the cheese cart.

By the fourth time, you were on your second glass of wine, and you squinted at the various variations on smoked brie before deciding exactly how to pick your poison that time around.

"You new here?" A voice came from your right, startling you out of your dairy-induced haze. You turned with wide eyes to see a man standing beside you with a moderately amused smirk. "Because unless you're our transfer from Atlanta, I can't say I've heard about you -- and unlike Beatrice, you don't quite look 57."

You couldn't help your laugh at his playful tone. You gave him a once-over; he didn't fit the description of anyone John had told you about. "I can assure you, I'm not here to steal poor Beatrice's identity," you replied mildly. "I'm actually here as a guest, Mr..."

You trailed off an eyebrow raised. "Jefferson," he supplied, offering you his hand to shake, "Thomas Jefferson."

"Y/N L/N. Nice to meet you." You shook his hand, and something akin to recognition flashed across his face. Perhaps he'd heard about you from John? His crooked grin only grew with that as he drew closer to you.

"So you're here as a guest, hm?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow. You nodded hesitantly. "Must not have had a very good host to bring you then, huh? Can't imagine leaving a pretty little thing like you unattended around here."

You raised your eyebrows at that. His sudden confidence was off-putting, and you shifted your weight from one foot to another as you gave him a slightly strained smile. The shift in his demeanor was beginning to make you mildly uncomfortable. "I assure you, I can take care of myself, Mr. Jefferson."

"I don't doubt that, sweetheart." His reply was mildly absentminded as his eyes trailed down your figure, and you took an unconscious step back. When you did, his eyes jumped back to yours as he flashed you a winning smile. "But please, it's Thomas, to you."

"Well, Thomas, it's been nice meeting you, but I think I need to get back to my date." You silently mourned your not having collected any new cheeses, but you were eager to end that interaction. He raised an eyebrow, grin groundlessly smug.

"You sure you wanna do that? I mean, if your date cared little enough to leave you out here all alone in this big office, I think you're justified in findin' other company." He moved imperceptibly closer, but it made all the difference to you. You swallowed. "Besides--"

"Y/N!" You whipped around, on cloud nine when you made eye contact with the source of the voice. You must have looked endlessly relieved, grateful for your savior, your white knight, your Messiah -- not to be dramatic -- but John just looked tense as he approached where you were standing. His smile was clearly forced, and Thomas raised an eyebrow. When he reached you, he wrapped an arm around your waist, tugging you further away from his coworker immediately. "Jefferson, I see you've met my girlfriend."

Thomas didn't miss the emphasis on the word 'girlfriend.' His eyebrows jumped toward his hairline, and he huffed out a disbelieving laugh. "Your girlfriend, huh?" He looked between the two of you, and the tension as he met John's gaze was palpable. He broke it after hardly a second, turning his focus back to you with an irritatingly pitying smile. "Oh, sweetheart, how much is he paying you? Surely, it can't be that much, considerin' how much less John makes--"

"I'm not in this for money, Mr. Jefferson," you said, careful to keep your tone level. Beside you, John's jaw ticked, the pads of his fingers pressing possessively into the side of your waist. 

Doubt still drenched his stare, and John cut in. "Not everything can be bought, Mr. Jefferson--" The utterance of his title was mocking, the words closer to a sneer, "and if you know what's good for you, you'll stop calling my girlfriend an escort. Watch it."

"Mmh, your loss, gettin' with him. You could be making some good money off of that." He let his gaze wander, never going above your neckline. It was painfully obvious that he was just playing it up to get a rise out of John, but nonetheless, it was working. You heard your boyfriend inhale harshly; his grip on you was getting closer to a vice. Thomas shot you a wink. "Gimme a call if you're ever interested in actually gettin' something out of a relationship, for once."

John scowled; you had to cling to his side to restrain him from tackling Thomas right there and then. His teeth were clenched, his gaze full of unbridled fury. "I swear to God--"

"Baby, c'mon, it's not worth it." Your quiet plea cut him off as you rested a hand on his chest. You could feel some of the tension leave his body. "You're fine. I'm fine. Let's just go, yeah?" He met your wide eyes, and your worried gaze had him forcing himself to cool off.

He shot Thomas one last burning glare before turning on his heel, promptly pulling you as far from his coworker as he could get you. You went with him readily.

He was quiet for the rest of the night. Despite your constant questioning stare and occasional attempts to check on him, voice hardly above a whisper, he just ignored it, waved you away. You didn't stay much longer after that, and the car ride back to your apartment was dead silent. John's knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel.

After you made it home, though, you tried one more time. He threw the keys into the bowl by the door after locking it, and immediately began to loosen his tie, eager to relax and forget about the night.

"John, are you okay?" Though the question was hesitant, your tone was firm, demanding. He reluctantly met your eyes, vexation still brewing near the surface of his gaze. "Talk to me, baby. What's up?"

"What the fuck was that stunt with Jefferson?" The question had your eyes widening.

"'Stunt'?" you repeated, hoping you'd misheard him. "Seriously? He approached me; I just wanted more cheese!"

"You didn't exactly seem to be pulling away," he accused, and you gave a short, mirthless laugh.

"You've gotta be kidding me, John." His expectant expression told you that he absolutely was not, and you scowled. "I didn't wanna cause a scene. I was trying to get away politely. I just... didn't want anything to escalate."

"Some excuse."

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, come on, Y/N." His voice was louder that time, and it was tinged with genuine anger. He took a step toward you, looming over you as he began to close the space. "You've never cared about being impolite before; don't expect me to believe you're suddenly miss proper. You were just enjoying the attention."

"This was my first time around your colleagues! At your office!" you protested, standing your ground.

"You don't give two shits what corporate employees think about you!"

"But you do." The truth behind your words was what made him bite his tongue, not the urgency in your tone. Tentatively, you closed the small gap between you, reaching up to rest your hands on his shoulders. "John, I didn't wanna make a scene because I didn't wanna embarrass you. You were so excited to bring me there and have everyone come see me, and I knew how much tonight meant to you." He looked down at you with his eyebrows raised. Much of the tension in his shoulders had melted away at your touch; his eyes held no hostility as they met yours, and his hands ghosted across your hips. "I just wanted you to be happy, baby."

He wrapped an arm snugly around your waist, pulling you flush against him, and he brought his other hand up to smooth your hair back, away from your face. His frustration had been replaced by a tiny, playful smile. Slowly, he moved forward, and your eyes widened as you stumbled in his grasp; it only took him a moment to back you into the kitchen counter. "Fucking Jefferson has no idea what he's missing out on."

You smiled, pulling yourself up to him to rest your forehead against him, to look him in the eye. "And he never will."

-----------

You both woke up late the next morning, exhausted and disinterested in leaving your bed. You weren't surprised; you'd ended up having a late night. You groaned at the sunlight streaming through your window as your eyes fluttered open, trying to bury yourself in John's embrace. He breathed deeply as he held a hand to the small of your back, dipping down to kiss you as he stretched, stifling a yawn.

"Morning, baby," he hummed, fatigue sitting heavy in his voice. "How're you feeling?"

"Sore," you groaned, and he chuckled. You glared playfully up at him.

"You complaining?" he retorted, raising a teasing brow, and you didn't bother to hide your grin. 

"Never." You kissed the tip of his nose. "But John?"

"Mmhmm?" His forehead creased, and your smile only grew at how unnecessarily concerned he looked.

"As hot as it is seeing you jealous -- and it is, ridiculously hot, actually -- did you really have to give me so many hickeys?" The words came out as a whine, and he laughed as he eyed your pout.

"I dunno, babygirl," he began, rolling over so you were on your back and he was propped up on his arms above you. The wistful regret in his voice was dramatically phony. "If last night told me anything, it's that you can't seem to keep the men away, no matter where we go." He paused, shrugging. "Not that I blame them. Look at you."

He dipped down to kiss your neck with that, and you huffed. "John. Promise you've given me enough hickies. You can stop."

"I like seeing 'em," he said, smile growing as he looked proudly down at you. "Besides, if the world needs a reminder that you're mine, you had better bet that I'm not gonna hesitate to give it to them."

[unicornsaures]

for some reason i was just reminded of that oneshot you wrote where john lived and he came back. yeah the one that made me cry and now im so very sad um

and the black dog is on right now and its not helping

lowkey wanna scream thank u for creating art/writing that rearranges the particles of my being!! lollll!!!

for only posting 6 oneshots i completely forgot about that one..oops..unfortunately it is engraved in my brain to write angst and i couldnt ever pass up on the opportunity for a Laurens lives thing..

I have the trilogy, actually! Laurens lives, laurens dies, and laurens dies but its because hamilton kills him!

[alyselenai]

1780, A Winter’s Ball

John Laurens x OC

words: 855

warnings: none, fluff 

A/N: I wrote this a few years ago, so it may be a little rough. I just really wanted to share it because we can all do with a little more John Laurens. But I hope you like it!

The sun was setting low across the horizon outside, but inside was lit up with beautiful, multi-colored fairy lights. My satin dress billowed around my ankles, it’s brilliant blue creating a magnificent orb-like shape around me as it twirled on the dance floor. The soldier I was dancing with was incredibly tall and had a heavy french accent. “Ah...Mademoiselle Belle, you seem very...how do you say...distracted.” I snapped my head up to the man, “I apologize Monsieur Lafayette, I was just thinking about how lovely this dance with you has been.” He threw his head back slightly in a laugh then sent me a grand smile. “You remind me much of my friend Alexander, he has a naturally flirtatious nature I believe you would enjoy,” his eyes brightened, “I should introduce you to him! Actually, I shall introduce you to all my friends!” I giggle at his childlike excitement and gesture for him to lead the way. 

He pulls me off of the dance floor to a group of four men standing along the edge of the rooms. Once we made it over to his friends, Lafayette introduced me. “Gentlemen, please pause your pinning and meet the loveliest gem at the party, Miss Anna Belle!” he exclaimed while twirling me around causing me to let out a laugh. The guys shifted their gaze toward me and each gave me a big smile. “Hello, I am Alexander,” he paused to kiss my hand, “the best looking of the group.” I heard a scoff from behind him and saw a well-built man with a bandana wrapped around his head. He gently grabbed my hand from Alexander and gave it a small peck. “I am Hercules Mulligan, Miss Anna.” He stepped aside and I was greeted by a taller man who I knew to be Aaron Burr. “Although it is lovely to see you again, Anna, I have some matters to discuss with Alexander. I hope to see you later.” Burr gave her a wink and started to push a protesting Alexander out towards the dance floor. “Ah, Laurens, come introduce yourself,” Lafayette announced from her side. A young man stepped out from behind Hercules with a smile on his face. He had his curly hair tied up and freckles covering his entire face. “Hello, my name is John Laurens,” he smirked, “and I would just like to say that you are the most beautiful girl here.” I felt my cheeks heat up as I muttered a quiet ‘thank you’ while the three men laughed. 

We spent the next half hour joking around, Alexander eventually making his way back to us. “I just met the most amazing woman,” he said with a dreamy look on his face. John made a face, “how could you? She’s been sitting here with us the whole time.” He shot a wink my way which made me giggle and give him a shy smile. He had been sending flirtatious comments my way since we met. I have to admit that I liked the attention from him. When I tuned back into the conversation, the boys were already staring at me. “What? Do I have something on my face?” I felt around my face, but all I felt was the warmth from my blushing cheeks. Alexander laughed and leaned forward, “I asked if you knew Eliza Schuyler.” “Oh..” I paused, thinking. “Yes, I believe I do. She’s a lovely woman.” He leaned back and smiled, “I know. I’m gonna marry her someday.” We all laughed at the love-struck Alex. I thought it was sweet, however. He wasn’t ashamed to show that he liked her and that he wanted to be with her. I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to see John staring at me. “I hope you know that I’m going to marry you someday.” I gasped and opened my mouth, but I couldn’t find the words. He laughed at my reaction and grabbed my hand to pull me from my seat. “May I have this dance Miss Anna Belle?” he asked in a posh accent while bowing. I brushed off my shock and replied in my own voice, “of course Mr. Laurens.” 

We danced around the floor until the party was drawing to an end. “It was an honor to meet you, Anna, you have lit up my life in such a short time and I don’t believe that I can let you walk out of it.” I felt my heart swell and gave him a shy smile. I know that we only just met, but I felt love flowing through me. “I don’t believe I could leave you even if I wanted to,” I responded quietly causing him to beam down at me. We continued to dance even after the music stopped. Lafayette, Hercules, and Alexander all sat watching us smiling, occasionally pointing at us and whispering to each other. I just laid my head against John’s chest and let the rest of the room melt away until it was just him and me. I knew that this would be the start of something incredibly beautiful. 

[hamiltimebinches]

John Laurens x Reader: Flowering Affections Chapter 1

A/n: I really don’t know what to say here..... I really liked how this one turned out though. Chapter 2 is here.

Timeline: Modern

Warnings: None

Words: 1,496

     Perfection. We all know the word. Everybody wishes to be perfect: the perfect student, the perfect parent, perfect writer, perfect artist, even the perfect basketball player. They all strive to be perfect, and they all fail. When they fail most start to beat themselves up over it, when really there is nothing to be angry about. No one can be perfect, so why try so hard and be disappointed when you don’t achieve perfection? The most you can do for anything is to try your best. You can never be perfect, so why not be the best you can possibly attain. You may not be the perfect painter, but you do the best you can and that’s just fine. It’s okay to not be perfect at something, it’s okay to be just the best you can manage to be. I’m (Y/n) (L/n) and I’m not perfect, that’s just fine with me.

    But why all this talk of perfection? Is there a reason I’m telling you all this? No, not really. It’s just my flower thoughts. Flower thoughts? What are flower thoughts? Well, they’re sort of like shower thoughts. You all know how you get those life changing thoughts while sitting in the shower. Flower thoughts are also like those thoughts you get before you fall asleep, the ones that momentarily change your thinking before you drift off into your own sleepy paradise or nightmare. Flower thoughts occur when you are sitting in a meadow just playing with the flowers, or watching them, smelling them. Flower thoughts are the thoughts that come to you when you just kind of lose all your cares while admiring the flowers.

    I’m sorry, this probably is just confusing you. No one goes to meadows anymore. They’re all too busy inside working or just browsing the internet. They all are too concerned with the business of life to just take a step back and relax a bit in the warm summer air with a light breeze while they sit in a meadow. I’m not like that, not really. Sure, I get busy and get caught up in the commotion of life, but every now and then I like to just take a step back and admire life and think. Think about what? Think about anything of course.

    That’s how I got on the topic of perfection. I had noticed how worried I was about being perfect all the time then came to the realization that not one person can be perfect. Not me, not you, not my professors, not my parents, not my friends, not one person. That doesn’t stop us from thinking some people are perfect. That doesn’t stop me from thinking some people are perfect. Now though, I think of perfection in a different light. No one is truly perfect, but some people seem perfect to us, even when we take into account their flaws. We see someone as perfect, even though we realize they make mistakes just like us. Those people are perfect to us, even with their flaws, even if they aren’t perfect to everybody else. We can see friends and family as perfect, but more seriously we can see people we are attracted to as perfect in every way, even with their flaws they are perfect to us. There is even someone like that for me. That man’s name is John Laurens. To me, even with his flaws, he is perfect.

    John goes to the same college as me and is majoring in marine biology. I’m majoring as a psychiatrist. The only reason I met John was because we share the same Biology class. Technically I didn’t meet John in the classroom, I met him at the campus library. I had been doing research for a paper I need to have done by the end of two weeks. I had been stressing because the paper was counting as half of my grade for the quarter.

    I had been at the library to pick up some books I needed for the paper and then planned to work on the paper with my laptop at one of the tables, preferably one that would allow me to sit in the warm sunlight. Unfortunately, I hadn’t been able to get two of the books because they were too high up for me to reach. John had been passing by as I once again stood as far up on my toes as I could. He saw me struggling and decided to come over and offer some help. I gladly accepted seeing that it would spare me some time. I know, cliche, right? But I guess some things in life just simply are cliche.

    Another cliche occured that same moment. John had asked if we had ever met before, I looked very familiar to him. I responded that I thought we shared the same class, even though I knew we did. I didn’t want him to think of me as weird and freaky for remembering him from a class of over fifty. So, I let him think I just vaguely remembered him. He had listed off the names of some of the professors he had but none of them matched with mine, until he mentioned Professor Bros. I’m not kidding, my Biology professor’s name is Professor Bros, that’s his actual last name. I had gotten a kick out of it when I saw his name. I had imagined him to be a more laid back teacher, I was wrong he was the strictest teacher I had and he didn’t take any bullshit from anyone. John and I conversed a little longer, totally not mentioning how much of a hardass Professor Bros was when it came to teaching and grading, before going our separate ways.

    Here I am, sitting in a meadow, and once again my thoughts have drifted off to John. more specifically when we met. My thoughts wandered from that occurence to what he is actually like, physically and personality wise.

    Physically John is, well, handsome. I don’t know how else to perfectly describe him. His skin tone is constantly tanned, as though he was working out in the sun constantly, which he probably was during his summers back in South Carolina. His eyes remind me of caramel and all his freckles remind me of constellations. Even though he comes from a hot and humid state and it’s not quite in fashion he’s grown his brown and curly hair out a little past his shoulders, he always has it tied back in a low ponytail. Sure, there’s plenty of men out there who have grown their hair out long, but a lot of them just don’t look good with long hair. John, however, is not one of those men.

    He is a bit on the loud side, especially when around friends, and very passionate about his beliefs. Unless someone gets on his nerves or the situation is serious he always seems to have a smile on his face. Back to the point about his beliefs, he will fight you if you say he’s wrong. He will fight you and tell you why he’s right and why you should shut your mouth, especially if what you said was racist. Don’t get me wrong though, John is not mean. He’s far from it actually. He’s kind and friendly. C’mon, he likes turtles, especially tiny baby ones. His friends, which I am now included as one, have literally seen him cry over a baby turtle he saw. In his words. “It’s just too cute and precious.”

    I let out a dreamy sigh as I wondered how I managed to even become friends with John. Why would he want to be friends with me? Why would he want to be seen around me? Those are two questions that always nag at me. Those questions always end up answered with cruel thoughts. Yeah, why? There’s nothing special about you. You’re just a nobody that comes from a little town in Florida that no one has ever even heard of. You’ve always been a nobody and you always will be.

    I sadly looked down at the flowers that were swaying in the light breeze. I focused on a dainty yellow tulip. Tulips have always been my favorite kind of flower, but not even seeing my favorite flowers can seem to lighten up my thoughts. I absentmindedly reached out and gently dragged my finger over the yellow and soft petal.

    I was startled out of my thoughts by a loud, abrasive ringing. I looked down at my lap to see my phone was the cause of the noise. Picking up the phone I looked for who was calling me. It was John. I felt a smile flicker across my lips. No matter how many times he’s called me I still get a giddy feeling and become happy to know he is calling me. I swiped my thumb over the answer button and lifted the phone to my ear.

    “Hello?”

[singtotheskiies]

Eight Summers

pairing: john laurens x reader modern au words: 7000 (yeah I got carried away a bit) warnings: fluff summary: follow yourself and John through eight summers as you become friends and mAyBe even fall in love. a/n: I've been wanting to do this forever (I can't believe I haven't done a John x reader yet) so let's see how this goes. the second summer contributes nothing whoops 

❇❇❇summer one❇❇❇ You sighed, flopping back onto your front porch. You had been so excited for this summer, and now, midway through June, nothing was happening. "I'm so bored," you said to the clear blue sky. As if by magic, your thinking aloud was interrupted by the rumble of a large moving van. Sitting up, you watched as it came down your street, trailed by a blue SUV. Both the vehicles pulled into the driveway of the house across the street and diagonal from yours. The house had been up for sale for the better part of the year, and only recently had a sticker reading "SOLD" been slapped onto the advertisement in the front yard. It was a large, spacious house that edged a forest, and you had often wondered at its slow sale. The rumble of the two cars had dwindled to a stop, and two men got out of the moving van and proceeded to open the back of the large vehicle. Meanwhile, a couple emerged from the SUV. The woman had brown, curly hair and looked to be in her early thirties. Her husband, or so you supposed, looked to be a few years older and had the same shade of hair as the lady, except his was stick-straight and short. Both of them waved at you, and you waved back with a smile. Under normal circumstances, you would have gone over to say hi, but this was their moving-in time and you didn't want to distract from that. I wonder if they have any kids​​, you thought, and your question was soon answered when the back left door of the car opened and a boy stepped out. You couldn't see very well since his back was to you, but he looked to be about your height and had clearly inherited his mother's curls. They fell halfway to his shoulders, and you didn't think you had ever seen a boy with hair quite like that. He exchanged a few words with his parents, and his mom motioned to where you were sitting. He turned around and looked at you before looking back at her, but his hesitation was ended as she pushed him gently. Now he was headed across the street and up your driveway. You stood up. "Hi! What's your name?" you asked brightly. "John," he answered, biting his lip before looking at you. "D'you have a last name?" you inquired. "Doesn't everyone?" he pronounced the first word as if it contained no s. "I think so. What's yours?" "Laurens. I'm John Laurens." "I'm (Y/N) (L/N). Nice to meet you." You stuck out your hand and he took it with surprising firmness. You looked at him closer as you shook hands. His curly hair was shiny and soft-looking, and it framed a face with a honeyed caramel tint which was covered with a liberal dusting of freckles. His eyes were a vibrant green, and they met yours with an unwavering gaze. The features on his face were well-shaped and defined, although his cheeks still carried a roundness that hinted at youthful innocence. "How old are you?" he asked, releasing your hand. "I'm ten," you answered proudly. "So am I!" he exclaimed, his first real show of enthusiasm, and the two of you grinned at each other. His mouth quirked up to one side, bespeaking a hint of mischief that was confirmed by the sparkling in his eyes that matched his bright smile. His whole face transformed when he smiled, illuminating his face and stretching his freckled cheeks adorably. "But which one of us is older?" you wondered, and you compared birthdays. "Yes!" John exclaimed triumphantly, pumping his fist in victory when he learned that he was a full two months older than you. "It's only two months, though," you griped, crossing your arms as you felt some of the pride rubbing off. "Yeah, but I'm older!" he exclaimed. "I'm always one of the youngest in my classes and now I won't be the very last one!" "Oh, stop," you said, cuffing him playfully on the shoulder. "You'd think you won the Olympics or something." "Maybe I did," he retorted playfully. "The being-older-than-your-neighbor event is my thing." "Whatever," you said, rolling your eyes. "So this is your house?" he asked, looking up at it. "Uh-huh!" you answered proudly. "We'll be almost right across the street from each other, then," he observed. "I know! We'll have lots of fun," you resolved. "John!" A voice interrupted your conversation. The man was crossing the street. "Time to go. We need your help moving some boxes." "Okay, Dad." he sighed. "This is (Y/N). She's our neighbor and she's my age right now, although I'm two months older." Mr. Laurens smiled at you. "Nice to meet you, (Y/N)," he said. "I'm Henry Laurens. Thanks for being so welcoming. I know John was a little nervous that there wouldn't be any kids his age, but I guess that problem's solved, right, John?" "Yeah!" he responded. "Bye, (Y/N)! See you later!" "Okay! Friends?" you asked. "Friends." He smiled at you again before going back with his father. You smiled as you sat back on the porch. Summer just got a whole lot more interesting. ------ You didn't hear the conversation that went on between John and his father. "She's so nice, Dad, and friendly and pretty!" "I could tell, son. I'm glad you made a friend." Henry drew his son close to his side. "Yeah, me too." John couldn't stop smiling for the rest of the day. ❇❇❇summer two❇❇❇ You were lying next to John, your back against the firm wood of his tree house, which was really nothing more than a few planks nailed together to form a floor-like object which was placed in a crook of a tree. It was secured to the branch by nails and was surprisingly very comfortable. "I can't believe you haven't told me about this yet," you said, turning your head to look at him. "Yeah. It's pretty great, isn't it?" ​​​​​​ It was. The tree was a tall one and all sounds of other people faded, giving way to birdsong and the occasional humming insect. It was a hot day, but the heat faded, impeded by the canopy of leaves stretched out above the two of you. The sun would poke through at different times whenever the leaves would drift apart, lifted by the cool breeze wafting through the forest. All was peaceful and you smiled at the calm that filled you as you lay there, John by your side. "Those leaves over there remind me of your eyes," you said with all the innocence of an eleven-year-old, pointing over to a part of the forest that was dappled with shade. John hummed in agreement. That was one thing about John. The two of you could maintain perfect silence without it feeling awkward or strange. You could still understand each other just as well through words than you could through none. He always seemed to know what you were thinking and vice versa, which was one of the things that made him your best friend. He always understood. Even at this young age, you knew that that was important in any close friendship. John was special and you were glad to know him. He never failed to make you happy and bring a smile to your face. And as you thought of him, a stirring arose in your heart, a new, unfamiliar feeling that wasn't necessarily uncomfortable. You didn't know what it was, but the future was sure to tell. ❇❇❇summer three❇❇❇ "C'mon, John!" you exclaimed, pulling insistently on his arm. John and his parents had come over for dinner, and now the adults were just talking on the back porch which served as an eating area. You wanted no part in it—the fireflies were out tonight, and you had never seen so many. "Hey, that rhymes!" he quipped, smiling that smile you knew so well. "Wow, great observation." You rolled your eyes. "I know. Aren't you glad your best friend is brilliant?" "You're about as brilliant as—" you paused, trying unsuccessfully to think of something dull— "as, well, never mind. But let's go, please? Those fireflies are just waiting to be caught." "Okay, okay, I'm coming. Hey, Mom!" he called. "Yes, sweetheart?" Mrs. Laurens replied. "(Y/N) and I are gonna catch some fireflies." "All right. Have fun, you two." She gave you a sweet smile. "I'll get the jars," you told John. "I'm pretty sure we've got two with holes already punched in the top." You went inside and emerged in a few minutes, carrying a jar in each hand. "We should make this a competition of who can catch the most," John said, taking his jar and looking at you mischievously. "Oh, definitely. You're on," you said, matching his grin. "Ready—" you drew out the word. "Set..." "Go!" you yelled together, running in opposite directions to spots where the insects illuminated the night with their flashes of light. You found a great spot right away, and you quickly grabbed the small bugs and let them crawl off your fingers into your jar, slamming the lid down when they had entered fully. The bugs tickled as their feet made their way down your fingers, and you giggled at the sensation. "You're going down!" you heard John yell from somewhere in the yard. "Nuh-uh!" you retorted, continuing your mad dash through the grass. ------ As the two of you ran around the yard, your parents watched you with smiles on their faces. "They're such great friends," your mom said. "Yeah, they really have a special bond," agreed Mr. Laurens. "There's not a day that goes by that John doesn't talk about (Y/N). There's always something exciting with those two." "He better not steal her heart in a few years," inserted your dad, jokingly but also with a hint of seriousness. "Well, I'm afraid (Y/N)'s on her way to doing that with John," Mrs. Laurens said. "He always tells me how pretty she is, although he's never hinted at a crush." "Well, if I had to choose anyone for my son, it'd be your daughter," Mr. Laurens told your parents. "She's really a great girl." "We could say the same for John," your mother replied. "That he's a wonderful boy and all. Not that he's a great girl!" The four laughed and turned back to watching you and John. ------ "Okay, I think that's enough time," you called to him, breathing slightly heavier than normal. "Aw, are you just tired?" he teased, coming over to you. "No, but I bet you are," you shot back, trying to suppress your heavy breathing. "Nope!" he boasted, tucking a piece of hair behind his ear. His curls were long enough to be put back in a short ponytail now, and you teased him about it occasionally. "Okay, well, let's count the other person's fireflies, and whoever wins gets the last two cookies," you said. ​​​​​​ "Sounds good," he replied, and you switched jars and began counting, which was a tricky job since the bugs kept crawling around and many were on the bottom of the lid so you had to tip the jar up to see them. "Fifty-one," you said when you had finished. John was just finishing up, his tongue stuck out slightly as he counted. "You have forty-two which means I won!" he shouted in joy. "All right, good job," you said, sticking out a hand. "A for effort." "Effort starts with E, stupid. Now let's go get your cookies," you replied, smacking him lightly on the shoulder. "Sounds good to me," he said, yelling, "I won!" when the two of you reached your parents. "So he gets the last two cookies," you explained, giving the prizes to him. As he contemplated his reward in his hand, he looked up at you. "I'll give you one," he conceded. "I could never let my best friend go hungry." "I appreciate it," you said, and sat down on the steps, setting your jar next to you. John sat down as well. "We should probably let them go," he said, and you agreed, opening your jar as he did. The fireflies flew into the night, releasing light as they went, and you watched them go. John glanced over at you, your face illuminated by the soft glow of the bugs, and felt his heart expand inside him. What a best friend. ❇❇❇summer four ❇❇❇ The August afternoon was drawing on to evening, and a coolness stole into the air, barely noticeable but still there. Fall would come soon, along with school, and you wanted to savor every last second with John. He lifted his head from his sketchbook as a breeze blew through the trees at the edge of the forest, where the two of you were sitting on an old blanket that John's parents kept for picnics and outdoor use. You were still unaware of what he was drawing, and didn't hear the quick scribbling of his pencil as you looked upward at a few golden-tinged leaves that had fallen due to the wind. "It's so pretty out here," you said, turning back to look at him. He was drawing a long, curving line but that was all you could tell as he had his sketchbook tilted away from you. "Mhm," he replied absentmindedly, a look of intense concentration on his face. He had a certain habit when he was drawing—he would bite his lip on one side and poke out his tongue on the other. You never figured out how he did it, and it was one of the endless unique things that made him John. As you watched his pencil move, his eyes flicked upwards to yours and you looked away quickly, your heart racing inexplicably. You had noticed that you seemed more shy around John. He was still your best friend and closer to you than anyone else, but something was changing. He wasn't the same boy anymore. His cheeks were still sprinkled with freckles, but they had lost much of their roundness, showing hints of defined cheekbones. His hair had grown out to a bit longer than shoulder length, and was usually tied back in a ponytail. He had grown nearly a foot in the past three years and now stood a full head taller than you, a fact he never failed to tease you about. He'd call you "small one" often, to which you would cross your arms and pout. He was growing up remarkably, and you couldn't help but think that he was getting handsomer every day. Although you didn't want to believe it, you could feel yourself becoming attracted to him and hated yourself for it. He's your best friend, you'd think. What's wrong with you? But all the berating in the world couldn't stop your feelings from developing more and more. "They're still not right," you heard him mutter, breaking you out of your thoughts. "What?" "The eyes. They're not right." He turned his sketchbook towards you and you gasped. There on the page were five sketches of your head and upper body in different positions, and they looked as if they could have come from real life. Everything was perfectly proportioned, and you marveled at how he could add such reality to the images with just a few lines of shading. "John," you breathed. He looked at you, hopefully, a hint of anxiety in his eyes. "Do you like them?" he asked, genuinely nervous. "Oh my god. They're beyond words," you said, still looking at them with awe. He breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness. I just couldn't get your eyes right on this one," he said, pointing to a sketch of you looking up. "There's a certain light in them that I just can't duplicate." You looked at his face next to you, inches away. "I think they're amazing." He smiled at you, no hint of cockiness or self-assurance, just a warm smile that heated your cheeks. "Thank you," he said. "No, thank you," you answered. "Wow!" "Ah, it was nothing, just a few sketches." He rubbed the back of his neck as he tapped his pencil almost nervously on his leg. "I'm just glad you like them." Hit with a sudden impetuous desire, you threw your arms around him. He hugged back after a moment, clearly surprised, and you smiled at the feeling, the rightness of it. "You're the best," you whispered. "No, you are." "I'll fight you." A laugh, a change in tone. "Whatever you say, small one." ❇❇❇summer five❇❇❇ "But it's so cold," you complained. "(Y/N), it's sixty-three degrees. That hardly qualifies as cold," John answered you with a shake of his curls. "It does when it's summer and there's no sun. It feels like forty degrees and I don't care what you say it really is." You crossed your arms and shivered, even as you were standing on John's screened-in back porch. "So you insist on not coming." "Not if I'm going to freeze my butt off!" He sighed. "Fine, wait here. I'll be right back." He vanished into the house and you stood there alone, tapping your bare foot on the wooden boards. You heard him coming down the stairs a few moments later and he came out the door with something in hand. "What's that for?" "You. It's just one of my old sweatshirts you can wear so you're not as cold. It's got fleece on the inside, see?" You felt the shirt and agreed to put it on, your heart warming even as your body did. It smelled like John, a hint of lemons swirled in with cotton. It came well to your mid-thigh area and the sleeves enveloped your hands, forcing you to push them up a bit. "Thanks, John," you told him. He was looking at you in his sweatshirt and seemed to snap out of a trance as you spoke. "Oh, yeah, anything for you," he said, ruffling your hair. "You look nice in it." "Yeah, right. As if I look nice in anything," you said, rolling your eyes. "You do. Y'know, I almost got you a pair of my sweatpants since you seemed to be the most concerned with freezing your butt off, but somehow I deemed that inappropriate." The soft look in his eyes was briefly replaced with a hint of their usual roguish gleam. "Perv. Now let's go look at the freaking stars because you wanted to." You bumped him with your shoulder and smiled at him. "I think you secretly want to look at the stars as well," he teased, holding the patio door open for you. "Thank you. And maybe, maybe not. You'll never know." (You did.) The two of you stepped into the night, shivering slightly as you did so. The stars were bright and shed a soft light on John's wide backyard. You picked a spot and lay down on the grass. "Ooh, look, the Big Dipper!" you cried softly, pointing at the constellation above you. John smiled at the wonder reflected in your star-lit eyes. "There's the North Star," he replied, and thought that even though he had seen these basic constellations a million times before, they had never been quite so shining and clear as when you were there next to him. After a few minutes of picking out the images in the sky, you remarked, "I'm still cold." "C'mere, then," John answered, and drew you close. The warmth from his body seeped into yours as fingers of electricity washed over your body at the contact. He felt amazing and right, and you closed your eyes as you leaned against him. ​​​​​His heart was beating; you could hear it, and his chest rose and fell gently. He looked down at your form and sat there with you, the girl who made the stars shine brighter. ❇❇❇summer six❇❇❇ You looked at John warily. "You want me to ride in this? You literally got your license two days ago." Your voice was teasing. "And it was well-deserved. C'mon, (Y/N), just for a bit? It'll only take a few minutes and the sun will start setting soon anyway." "I'm just kidding. Of course I'll go." "Ah, so you do trust me." "Shut up and drive, Laurens." He made his way to the passenger door and held it open for you, making a sweeping gesture that was coupled with a mock bow. "My lady," he said. "Oh, stop." Your heart was secretly bursting within you at the chivalrous action, however lightly it was meant. John closed the door after you and walked to the driver's side. "Are you ready for the time of your life?" he asked you. "Ready as I'll ever be," you told him, and he turned the key in the ignition. "Then let's go." And with that, he pulled out of his driveway. ------ ​​​​​​There was a road near your neighborhood that was mostly used for drivers' ed purposes. Since it was nearly school, classes in your community had ended and the road was empty. It was surrounded by trees on both sides and a few faint birds could still be heard deep inside the trees. As John turned onto the road, he looked at you with a smirk before stepping on the gas. "Oh my god, John!" you screamed as your hair was whipped every which way. "You're going sixty miles an hour!" "I know." "Just be careful!" you cried, even as a joyous whoop escaped you. John looked over at you again, and his heart flipped over. You were laughing, mouth wide open, and your hair was blowing around your face, tinted slightly by the now-setting sun. As you turned to look back at him, your cheeks were flushed and your hair was a mess, but John had never seen you look more beautiful. His gaze moved down your face, and he was unable to get enough of you. "Eyes on the road," you quipped. "Ah, yes, right," he nodded. "But I'd rather look at my beautiful best friend than a black stretch of asphalt." "Shut up," you told him, shocked inwardly at the compliment. "Watching the road will actually keep you alive." "Maybe I need you to live as well," he murmured. "What?" "Nothing." ❇❇❇summer seven❇❇❇ Every year, the Mulligans and Motiers, two families in your neighborhood, would get together and have a huge party. They would play music cranked up as loud as possible, and was audible on the other side of the subdivision, where you and John lived. Miraculously, none of the numerous complaints would deter them from their fun, and so the whole neighborhood suffered in unison for one long night. Tonight was the oh-so-joyful occasion, and you had invited John over, knowing that having him next to you was the only thing that would keep your sanity in one piece. He had had dinner with your family and the two of you were out in your backyard, where an old swingset stood. You were sitting on one, swinging your legs softly back and forth while John sat next to you, listening absentmindedly to the music while catching glimpses of you whenever you weren't looking. The current song ended and another began. "I love this song!" you cried, instantly recognizing "I Saw Her Standing There" by the Beatles. Well, she was just seventeen You know what I mean And the way she looked was way beyond compare "You're seventeen. Fancy that," said John. "And I must admit that you do look nice tonight." You looked down at your old clothes with a skeptical glance. "Yeah, right." "May I have this dance?" He held out a hand to you. "Of course." So how could I dance with another When I saw her standing there? You giggled as John twirled you around the yard, slowing when you were out of breath. He stepped with you slowly, your speed rapidly decreasing and then stopping altogether as you looked up at him to see him gazing down at you. Well she looked at me And I, I could see That before too long I'd fall in love with her She wouldn't dance with another Oh, when I saw her standing there "(Y/N)," he whispered, softer than you knew anyone could ever speak. "Y-yes?" "May I kiss you?" A shocked silence. "Of course." You finally overcame your shock. He bent down and you felt his breath on your cheek. And with a soft tilt forward, he captured your lips with his and the only thing that existed was him. It was pure and perfect and everything you had imagined and wanted it to be. As you pulled apart, you whispered, "I love you." "I think I loved you ever since I saw how adorable you were when you were mad at me being older," John confessed, rubbing his thumb gently over your bottom lip. You looked into his eyes, saw the love, the pure emotion, and knew you needed him, needed him desperately. He drew you in again, and the music was forgotten. ❇❇❇summer eight❇❇❇ "I can't believe this. Summer reading? Especially Shakespeare summer reading?" John lamented. "Well, some people actually like Romeo and Juliet and consider it a literary masterpiece," you commented. "And I happen to be one of them." "My own girlfriend," he groaned. After a year of owning that title, it never failed to give you butterflies when hearing it. The two of you were sitting in a clearing of his forest, and the sun shone in a dappled pattern on your languishing forms. "You should really get started on it," you told him. "I suppose you're already done." "I, for one, do not procrastinate." "Well, then, you leave me no choice but to begin." "You should read it to me." "Anything for you," he said, cupping the back of your neck and kissing your forehead before lying down and placing his head on your lap. "It'll be more comfortable this way." And with that, he began to read, and you listened to the voice you loved best read the classic tale of love. After the first act, your hands were begging for something to do, and so you gently pulled at his hair tie, releasing his long, bouncy curls which floated freely at their leisure. You wove your fingers through them, feeling their lush softness and kissing his shiny locks every now and then. After a few minutes, you parted his hair into three sections and began braiding, picking a few flowers to finish off the woven hairstyle. He was now at the balcony scene, your favorite part, and he paused. "You be Juliet. I'll read Romeo," he said. You laughed and held the book with him, your fingers entwining. The words were interrupted often for a kiss or two, and he smiled at you, thinking that you were the most beautiful thing to ever walk the earth. He finished the scene, and sat up slightly, running his fingers along the curves of your neck while you kissed his freckled cheeks. "How'd I ever get you?" he asked in pure, breathless wonder. You simply smiled before kissing him deeply, eliciting small noises from his throat. The book was pushed aside as he sat up fully, setting you on his lap. "I love you," you said. "And I you." And there you were, young and with your lives ahead of you. The future was yet unknown, but you could face it together as long as you were by each other's side. You looked into his eyes and both of you thought that you had never felt such perfect happiness. 

[betsey-laurens-hamilton]

midnight, midday, dusk, and dawn.

an elams oneshot inspired by this post. everyone say thank you @ot3muse

“Shhh… shh… quiet, [???], cry.”

[???] won’t do that, not even if [???] to!”

“Me neither.”

New York City wasn’t known for being the quietest of places, but the nights were fairly generous surrounding John Laurens’ apartment building. Though he had dreaded his choice to pick one of the lowest floors to live in – the second one, to be exact – more times than considered healthy, it made for a nice change every now and then. Detailed sights for drawings, people gossiping and talking about their lives just loud enough for him to hear, pet-parents walking their dogs and looking weirdly similar to them, people living their lives in parallel all while John had the quiet little pleasure of being no more than a passive observer on all of this.

This night, however, it wasn’t any of this that caught his attention. Half-whispered voices apparently shushed each other not under his balcony, but under the other window in his room, one that faced the next building and stared down at an alleyway.

John wasn’t exactly a night owl. He woke up early every single day, went out for a run and headed to med school. Like any aspiring doctor, however, he was doomed to sleepless nights and therefore doomed to hear his neighbors’ nightly activities.

Eh, they weren’t always this pleasant.

“No, no, you can’t be alone here. Go inside, grab [???] and come back.”

“Okay!”

“Be quick!”

“I will. You be careful.”

John peered through his window. A woman was just rushing inside and he could only see her black jeans, but the man was still there, knelt down just by the alley’s opening. He leaned over something, probably their object of discussion, with his ginger hair in a ponytail – which was, by the way, the only detail that made John recognize him from their bump-ins on elevators, or on their ins-and-outs of the building. He was usually a smiler, nice, polite and was on the streets leaning over some sort of cardboard structure at two in the morning.

He kept saying something, different things, but they were all too low for John to hear.

Not very long later, the figure in black jeans and a black top returned, holding a big purse and letting go of a heavy breath she seemed to be holding for a while. John could also recognize her, especially by her long wavy dark hair and the ever-present tender undertone in her voice.

“I got it.”

The ginger looked at her and when he leaned against the wall of his building, John could finally see what they had been speaking about all this time: a box of kittens.

“You got a bag full of every different food and milk you could find in your house?”

“No, I got us a way to smuggle them in,” she knelt down too, opening the purse and immediately taking a little fluff ball in her hands, which John thought she was going to hide, but she just held it instead

“You’re crazy”

“No, you’re crazy. I told you I can’t leave them here. I couldn’t even if it would save my life.”

“It probably would right now, considering you signed a contract that strictly forbids you from bringing in a pet, and you’d be bringing… four,” he counter-argued. “But I wasn’t planning on leaving them here, I thought we could take them to a vet.”

“Open right now”

“It exists.”

“We should just br…”

Enough. John left his window, didn’t bother to do anything more than throw a coat over his pajama pants and tank top, rushed through his apartment, unlocked the door, and took the stairs down.

He didn’t exactly know what he was doing, but it differed from the extremely boring night he was having, which had been dedicated to nothing more than studies about shoulder injuries – a 60-page slideshow, by the way. Plus, there were cats, tiny little cats in need of help, and John knew his fair share of organizations dedicated to taking stray animals in and sheltering them. He even made sure at least one of these, which had been created by his ex-girlfriend, was kept in good shape and always had enough food for all of their pets.

Discreetly, John opened the back door of the building and faced both of them from a distance. The woman looked like a deer in headlights and tucked the box beside her, hiding the kitten she had in her hand behind the enormous bag she had brought. The man, who was now standing, simply strategically stepped in front of the box, in a way it covered the exact spots she didn’t manage to hide.

Huh. What a good mischievous little pair they made.

“Hey, may I help you?” He spoke first, keeping a surprisingly calm tone.

John just stared at them for a few seconds. Oh, yeah, talking.

“No, no. I’m here to help you. I heard you from the window,” now, that sounds creepy. “I live on the second floor. Neither of you are very good at whispering, and the acoustics here don’t help your case.”

The brunette girl looked around and up the walls of the building, but stayed quiet.

“Oh, no, don’t worry. We aren’t doing anything that needs help, we’re just heading back.”

“You’re sneaking a box of kittens in.”

“We weren’t planning on…”

“Yes we were!” She finally spoke. “I had convinced you. We’re taking them. And your help would be very appreciated.”

The ginger sighed, closing his eyes, scrunched up face of frustration.

“…You’re not planning on telling on us, right?”

John raised his eyebrows. So that had been an unplanned attempt at protecting them with a lie from a possible snitch. Smart, however useless it might have been.

“What? No. I want to help, really. I love animals, I have some cat food at home,” John mentioned, getting a confused look from both of them. “It’s a long story. I just bought it to donate- you know what, it’s a story for later. We have to go in, come on.”

The girl briefly tucked the cardboard box twice and stood up with it in hands, looking overly proud of herself. She grinned a bright smile at the ginger man, who looked away from her with a frown and a huff. John just watched, fairly entertained, and wondered whether they were a couple and he just never happened to see them together.

“You have to trust more freely”

“That was luck. I was trying to protect the cats.”

“That wasn’t luck,” she retorted. “That was my sorceress-y intuition. I’m a witch. I just knew.” She shrugged, playful, and stuck out the box of sleeping kittens to John. “Could you hold this, please?”

“Yeah.”

He took the box, at last being able to take a good look at them. It was a scrappy old box with no padding, no blanket, and four little adorable kittens. All four of them cuddled up in each other’s warmth, breathing and well. John gently reached out and pet one, picking the blonde kitten, who immediately reacted and scared him to death, leading John to think he had woken them up. Considering how loud kittens can be, he was fairly scared the woman in black would kill him if he had, in fact, woken it up.

“You look like you saw a ghost,” The ginger pointed, a slight smile in his voice.

Before John could respond, she came back to meet them with the big black bag in hands, opening it to reveal a fluffy pillow. Amazing. It would not only keep the cats comfortable, but also avoid the bag from closing in on them. The man seemed surprised too, but didn’t say anything out loud. John almost giggled.

Gently, both of them took the kittens from his box – blonde, black and two calicos – two at a time, and put them inside the bag.

“I’m sorry, but what are your names?”

“I’m Alex.”

“Eliza.”

“Good, I’m John. Should we, like, pretend we’re arriving together or something to avoid suspicion?”

“Well,” Eliza spoke up. “I’m almost in full dance attire, you’re in pajamas and Alex over here looks like… an avid reader at a Harvard library, so I think we should just get in through the back door and hope for the best.”

So that's what it was. Dance attire with jeans over them. But yeah, she was right.

“Okay, fine, get in,” John moved out of the way and quickly looked around for a trash can to toss the box in, which he spotted pretty quickly. No more awful cardboard homes for these babies. “We’ll head to the second floor.”

The ride upstairs, short as it was, was surprisingly comfortable for three strangers. Well, actually, he still couldn’t tell whether they were a couple or not. What he could tell was that Eliza was an absolute natural at breaking the ice and Alex an expert at niceties. That really made things easy on John, considering his social skill levels were probably somewhere around negative thirteen.

How did people just grow up to be so good at it, and so nice to be around?

“You said you had cat food,” Eliza broke through John’s passive observer atmosphere. “Why is it? Do you have a secret army of cats at home?”

Alex snickered quietly. John opened his door, letting them in.

“No,” John chuckled, “I fund an organization dedicated to sheltering stray animals. Sometimes I buy the food myself, and I happened to have bought a lot last weekend. Didn’t have time to take it there this week, but I guess that was some divine plan so these kittens would have something to eat. Don’t mind the mess, by the way.”

“Mess?”Alex exclaimed, sounding a little outraged.

Well, it was a mess. To him, at least. There were a few unpacked boxes around the living room, books on the dining table and so many things out of place. Even the throw blankets were misplaced.

“Dry food won’t do though,” Eliza chimed in, sounding a little amazed after his explanation. That was sweet.

“I have wet food too. I think that’ll work, considering their age.”

“Amazing! I knew you’d be a good person to trust. You’re even better than I could’ve imagined, really, what are the odds?”

“Fine, your witchy intuition got us someone great, you win.” Alex admitted, silently asking for the bag. “Let’s see them.”

He placed the bag on the floor, opening it to reveal the cats. They were mewing by now, probably because their bodies had warmed up a little bit and they could dedicate their warmth to something other than surviving.

“I’m going to get the food and warm some water.”

“Oh, hi babies…”

Eliza knelt down and Alex followed soon after, both their eyes sparkling just from looking at the little cats. It was a pity to leave the sight, but John was strong enough and turned on his heel to head to the kitchen. He wanted to get them cleaned up as well as fed as soon as possible.

So he closed the drain hole of the laundry room’s sink and turned the water on, leaving it to fill up like a bathtub while he prepared the food. John could hear Alex and Eliza quietly talking in the living room, giggling about the fact that they had actually snuck pets into their building. Eliza sounded excited. Alex sounded like he was containing his excitement and failing miserably. Cute dynamic.

Out of what probably were a hundred bags of wet cat food, John picked one of the smaller ones and spread it on two different saucers. So the cats wouldn’t run over one another. He also prepared a third one with a little bit of milk.

“Dinner time!”

All the cats mewed, walking around a little clumsily with their little legs at this point. Only one calico was still sleeping comfortably – in Alex’s lap.

“He can’t get up,” said Eliza, smiling. “Bring it here!”

John spread the saucers on the floor (yes, he had managed to carry all of them; everything is possible when you grow up taking care of four siblings) and sat near the couple-not-couple. All the kittens, even the one who was asleep, rushed to get food and milk.

“They’re so hungry.”

“Yeah. Hey, are you a couple? Or, like, do you know each other? Or did you just happen to be strangers who flawlessly rescued four kittens together?”

Eliza chuckled.

“You were part of this mission too, give yourself some credit. But, no, we’re not a couple and we don’t know each other. I learned his name the exact same moment you did.”

You should be a couple, John thought. Was that weird? I mean, no, right? Sometimes people just looked like they matched. That was normal.

“I knew her name,” Alex added. “I heard the doorman saying it a few times. I think he’s hitting on her.”

“What?! No,” she exclaimed, and was followed by a suggestive raise of Alex’s eyebrows. “He’s not! This is just, like, overall kindness.”

“I mean, yeah, but he didn’t do that to me. Did he do that to you?”

“Nope.” John chuckled.

“See?”

“No, no, no. People do that to show they’re being attentive. That they pay attention.”

“And… why is he being attentive to one person only?”

There was a moment of silence.

“Because I’m kind? I mean, I know your names, and now I’ll know them every time I talk to you. You’re John and Alex…ander. Please tell me your name is Alexander and not just Alex.”

“It is.”

Nice. Alexander is a beautiful name.

“That’s my witchy intuition. And my kindness.”

“Did you learn his name? The doorman’s?” John asked.

“…Yes?” She paused again… they just stared at her, holding in smiles. “I was just being kind back! How is that wrong?!”

“It’s not wrong, it’s just flirting!” Alex laughed.

“Stop, nooooo!” Eliza covered her ears, shaking her head. “No, no, I don’t want to think I’m leading someone on just because I learned their name! How can that be flirting?! People are so weird!”

Both of them laughed at her. Then a noise came from the kitchen and the three looked fairly confused – until John realized what it was and rushed to get up.

“Oh my god the sink! I left the faucet running!”

He rushed past them, being overly careful when running by the kittens, and finally got to the kitchen, turning it off. John sighed, hands on his hips, looking at the mess. Though not too much water had spilled, it was still enough to be dangerous in case he didn’t clean it. Lord knew how careful they would be around spilled water.

Speaking of them, Alex and Eliza showed up with the four well-fed kittens, some happily obliging and the others struggling in their arms, probably wanting to explore the apartment.

“We brought them. Do you want help?“ Eliza asked, handing him the blonde kitten. Did she know he’d taken a liking to it?

“No, no, don’t worry. I’ll take care of it, just- step back, I don’t want anyone slipping.”

“Alex chuckled. John searched for the floorcloth.”

“It’s just a little bit of water.”

“Do you know how many people die slipping on water every year?”

“No. Do you?”

“…A lot, probably. What I do know is a lot of people get concussions from tripping, and falling, and…”

Eliza took the cloth from his hand as soon as he got it, handing him the black kitten in exchange.

“Go clean them. I’ll take care of this.”

She knelt down and got to wiping.

“She’s stubborn. I wouldn’t go against her.” Alex smirked, playful.

“You’ve known me for like twenty minutes!” She looked up, frowning.

“You never get a second chance to make a first impression. And my first impression of you was a girl who would not bend on her idea of smuggling four kittens inside a building that does not allow pets,” he teased.

She just stared at him. Then squinted. Then huffed and got back to cleaning, clearly hiding a smile.

Alex, on the other hand, was grinning like he had just won a contest.

“And who will not admit she’s stubborn,”he added, only to get slapped in the ankle by a wet cloth and giggle like a child in response.

John couldn’t help but smile too, getting to work on the first kitten while Alex held the other three. He gently spread a collar of soap around the kitten’s neck, then dipped his body underwater, leaving only the head out.

Alexander seemed intrigued.

“Why did you do that?” He pointed to the cat’s neck.

“It’s to, uh,“ he chuckled, “stop the fleas that are in his body from coming to his head, trying to escape the water. They don’t get through the soap, so they just die underwater.”

“Merciless.” Eliza added, standing up and getting rid of the cloth.

“No mercy for the little freaks. Then you wash their body and gently scrub their head and faces with wet fingers to kill any other fleas that might have been there already. Just like that,” he demonstrated. “And then, done. Can you dry him with a towel? Not the wet dirty cloth, preferably.”

He handed it to Eliza, who was holding the black kitten again, he noticed. She snickered, rolling her eyes, and gave him the black cat in exchange for the blonde one.

“Oh, no. There goes my plan of wetting the cats even more. Where are the towels?”

“Uhh, third door from left to right, eye-level. Yes, right there.”

They spent quite a few minutes doing just that, washing the cats, drying them; at some point, when Eliza’s arms were getting too full of wet slippery kittens, John told Alex to get one big pillow inside one of his closets to use as a little bed. So she was now humming on the carpet, with three kittens laying in a soft, fluffy pillow waiting for their sister. Oh, yeah, and John had figured there were two male kitties (the orange and black) and two females (the calicos).

“This lady is spicy.”

Alex left with the final calico kitten, and John came soon after opening the drain again, allowing all the dirty water to run off.

“Lay her here. I was thinking we could name these two Midnight and Midday. How funny would that be?” She pointed to the darker one and the lighter one.

“We shouldn’t be naming kittens that can’t be ours,” Alex said, the voice of reason, “but… that is literally perfect. And so cute. The other two should be Dusk and Dawn, in between.”

John thought Eliza might actually tear up after hearing that, but she was just very expressive in her awe. He was melting too, to be honest.

“What do you think, John?”

Yes. Stop that passive observer thing, for god’s sake.

“I think it’s perfect. It fits them. The sky siblings.”

“Hah. That’s almost my name. Schuyler. Sky. They’re my biological children.”

Oh my god, Schuyler.

“Wait,” Alex interrupted her. “Schuyler? As in Senator Schuyler?!

“…Yes?” She sounded surprised. “Do you know my father?”

“Your father? God- Of course I do! Her father is the senator!”

“…I know. My father is Henry Laurens.”

Alexander might pass out. Eliza was completely shocked too.

“You’re Henry Laurens’ child?!” She asked, wide-eyed, and gestured at him. “But- but…”

“I know, I know,” He chuckled through a sigh. “It’s hard on both of us.”

She chuckled, gently scrunching her eyebrows together. Eliza was starting to look a little tired.

“I cannot believe the odds,” Alex was still very, very shocked. Cute. “What the hell?! I’m a law student. I work for Washington.”

“Ah, Washington, nice guy… He knows my name, he’s kind. He’s always like, oh, hello, Miss Elizabeth Schuyler,” Elizabeth. And she came up with a little fancy voice. Cute too. “Wait, so you’re actually, like, a Harvard kind of person. My intuition is on fire!”

“I haven’t got the opportunity to meet Washington yet. He sounds nice,” John added.

He had… gotten the opportunity. Through his father. Quite a few times. Just never attended it.

“Oh, yeah, he can be. He will not believe his ears when I tell him about this.”

“Yeah, and… wait. We should figure out what we’re doing with the kittens.” Eliza said.

“I thought we had agreed that John’s shelter was the solution?”

“No, no, I mean tonight.”

Alex raised his eyebrows. John eyed around.

“…They can stay here if you’d like? I mean, it’s no bother at all.”

Eliza looked a little disappointed. She wanted to take them home.

“I mean, we could, but… just today, what if we all spent the night with them? I mean, it’s not like people will hunt us down for that. They won’t even know.”

Alex hummed, his eyes betraying his sensibility and showing just how excited he really was. I mean, it really wouldn’t do harm, would it? Eliza seemed to have liked the newly-named Midnight more than she should, Dusk and Dawn had absolutely warmed up to Alex, and it would be a blatant lie to say John didn’t feel attached to Midday himself.

It sucked that they wouldn’t be theirs anymore tomorrow.

“It can’t hurt,” John grinned.

“Yes! Eliza celebrated, “Alex?”

“Fine, yes. Can I take Dusk and Dawn? They can’t be separated, look at that”

They were cuddling, forming a little heart shape together.

“I want Midnight. And I think John likes Midday. You’re both blonde.”

They chuckled, it was true. Alex yawned. They were tired, and so was he.

“Okay, so we have an agreement. I really think you should hide them on your way to your apartments, though. I mean, there are cameras everywhere, I wouldn’t want the landlords to have solid proof to get you evicted.”

“Midnight could definitely be mistaken by my black clothes, but I don’t think it’ll be the same for Dusk and Dawn.”

“I can’t believe we actually named them that,” John chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t worry, I’ll get a coat. Wait here.”

John left and came back with not one, but two coats. A forest green sweater he barely used with a big pocket on the front, and a dark blue cardigan with stars and two pockets on the sides. Though it would make more sense the other way around given the number of cats they were taking home, he really thought Eliza would fit the cardigan better and Alex the sweater. But that would be up to them.

They got up and met him, leaving the kittens on the pillow.

“Here.” He handed them the clothes and, after a moment of hesitation, each one picked the one he hoped they would. Bingo.

It really fit them better than it could ever fit him.

“Thank you. That’s the perfect disguise.” Eliza did a little spin, her long wavy brown following the motion with grace.

“Unless you see all the camera footage from today.” Alex chuckled, dressing the sweater. Admittedly, John stared just a bit. So did Eliza, he noticed. “I mean, three separate people dressed for three separate occasions bringing in a huge black bag and leaving with coats they didn’t have on? Suspicious.”

“Oh my god, the bag!” Eliza looked around, spotting the big purse. “That’s right, the bag! I don’t need the cardigan, John, I’m sorr…”

“No, no, keep it, it’s okay. We’ll have to meet tomorrow anyway. It’s a reminder for both of you.”

She smiled, looking down, and slid it back on. Was she a little shy now? Blushing?

“Okay, fine, fine. C’mere, Midnight. Cutie”

The three of them bent down and picked their respective kittens, which were now bathed with full bellies and very sleepy. Alex and Eliza tucked them into their pockets, but John just held his tiny Midday.

They headed to the door between sweet nothings, just talking to and about the cats and their plans. Eliza got her bag on the way, but Alex stopped on his tracks before they could step out completely.

“So, are we going to share numbers or apartments? So we can communicate? I’m on the fifth floor.”

“Oh, right!“ Eliza blinked a few times, looking more tired by the minute. “I’m on the ninth floor, let me- can I write on this paper? I’ll give you both my number.”

John nodded, he kept a few tiny notebooks along with pens throughout his house just in case he was suddenly remembered of something important and couldn’t stop to think about it or do it.

Eliza wrote down her number twice, giving half a small slip of paper (almost perfectly cut) to Alex and leaving the other on the notebook. Alex did the same. Then John gave his number to both of them.

“Okay… I think we’re good to go. Whoever remembers it first, create a group chat!” Alex called the elevator, which was still on their floor and opened right away. I mean, it was almost 3 am. People aren’t really leaving their homes right now.

“Right.” They stepped inside. Eliza waved, followed by Alex. They both had a hand inside a pocket, securing the cats. “Bye John! See you tomorrow!”

“Bye John!”

“Bye! Nice to meet you!”

He watched the elevator doors close, slowly covering their faces.

They really should date.

Immediately, John was struck with how tired he actually was. Jesus Christ. He went inside, and took a brief look at the slips of paper with numbers on his notebook.

Eliza’s penmanship balanced round and sharp edges, leaning more towards round, while Alex’s was the definition of rushed, but still charming. John’s was tidier, in his opinion, and he took quite a lot of pride in it considering he went to med school.

[adorawritesalot]

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↳ about me ༉‧₊

adora || she/they || infp || (actively) writing for skz, atz || have works about hamilton and marble hornets || not as active as my username indicates

RULES AND MASTERLIST UNDER THE CUT

↳ rules ༉‧₊

i don't mind minors on my blog, as i am not planning on posting nsfw in the foreseeable future.

i won't write the following:

-pedophilia

-incest

-grooming

-watersports

everything you see on my blog is written by me, and i ask you to avoid reposting, translating, or copying my works.

i solely write reader-insert. member x member action will only appear in poly works. ( i am most comfortable with a fem!reader or gn!reader and won't write male!reader)

keep in mind that my works are not a portrayal of real people.

i take requests! please send some in; don't be a stranger! but, as i've stated above, i am not much of a fast writer. it may take me some time to complete your request.

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skz masterlist!

the cafe ➸ widowed father!bangchan x cafe owner!reader one-shot

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hamilton masterlist!

rich s/o ➸ john laurens x reader headcannons

police officer s/o ➸ hamilsquad x reader oneshot

[thenasoneshots]

John Laurens Oneshot - Laf the Matchmaker

Requested?: No

Prompt: None

Type of oneshot: Fluff

Timing: Modern AU

Reader's Relations: Laf’s sister

Warnings: Google Translated French

Other notes: Reader has only recently moved from France and can only speak very very little English (like a few words), so whenever it’s just her and Laf, it’s French time. Also, all translations are at the end. In this, Eliza (and ig the other Schuylers) can speak French, cause she taught Philip, so she must have known French to be able to teach him. Also, google auto-translated all the ‘you’ stuff into the plural/formal you and idk what the equivalent is, so just pretend it is all ‘tu’ and the endings for that.

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

“Non, je ne vais pas sortir avec lui juste parce que vous pensez qu'il a besoin d'une petite amie!” I shouted, about to punch my brother in the face, “Je m'en fiche si vous pensez qu'il en a besoin. J'aurais besoin de mieux le connaître avant de sortir avec lui!”

“Allez, (Y/n)! S'il te plaît? Pour moi. Il a des taches de rousseur,” Gilbert replied, leaning his head on my shoulder from behind. I grumbled, annoyed at myself for telling him I was a sucker for guys with freckles, “Qu'est-ce qu'il y a pour moi?”

“Vous pouvez prendre un rendez-vous avec quelqu'un. Et je sais que vous deux, vous le frapperez. S'il te plaît?”

I sighed, “Pas une bonne raison,” I replied. Leaving my bedroom, patting my brother on the head. I walked downstairs in time to hear, “Yo, Laf! Are you coming down or should I just go?” I entered the living room to see someone sitting on the sofa, curly hair pulled back into a low ponytail, freckles covering his face, and I knew this was who my brother was trying to get me to go on a date with, “Douce mère de Neptune, Gil, tu ne m'as pas dit qu'il était chaud,” I muttered to myself.

“Hello, Miss. You haven’t seen Laf anywhere, have you?”

I just blinked in confusion, not knowing what he was saying as he walked over, taking my hand in his and kissing it, “However, it is a pleasure to meet you.”

“John, this is ma soeur, (Y/n). (Y/n), c'est John. Vous a dit qu'il était couvert de taches de rousseur. Changer d'avis encore?”

“F-Fine. Une date. Pour vous garder heureux.”

“Je savais que tu reviendrais (Y/n)! Maintenant, montez à l'étage et préparez-vous. Nous sortons tous pour le déjeuner!”

I rolled my eyes as my brother hugged me, nearly squishing me to death and turned on my heel, walking off back upstairs.

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

“So… John, why didn’t you tell us you were dating Laf’s sister?”

“Um… well, I-I… We’re not dating, Alex.”

“This was supposed to be a quadruple date, why bring someone you’re not dating?”

I giggled at John’s red face, guessing Alex had said something to embarrass him and turned to my brother, “De quoi parlent-ils?” Gilbert explained what the rest of the group was talking about and I nodded, not bothering to acknowledge the fact that my face was heating up when I was told what they were saying.

However I soon started to regret coming along, as the boys were very loud and having the Schuyler sisters there too, didn’t make it any better, let alone the fact that I was unable to join any conversations because of the language barrier. It soon got on my nerves how loud they were being, “Voulez-vous réellement taire?!” I shouted, rubbing my temples to try and get rid of the forming headache. Over the noise of the rest of the restaurant I could hear Gilbert saying something to John, “She’s telling you to shut up, mon ami.”

“Oh yeah? Well then, Laf, tell her that if she wants me to shut up, she can shut me up herself!” was John’s reply, but I had to wait for my brother to translate, “John dit de vous dire que si vous voulez qu'il se taigne, vous devez le faire vous-même.”

I growled, knowing John knew that I couldn’t speak English, and out of the corner of my eye I could see him smirk with a, ‘Allez, ferme-moi, je te défie’ look on his face. I rolled my eyes and did the first thing that came into my mind; I grabbed the collar of the top he was wearing and pulled him closer, kissing him straight on the lips. I broke off and saw him blinking at me. He opened his mouth and then swiftly closed it, unable to think of anything to say.

“Cela vous a fermé, n'est-ce pas?” I smirked, taking delight at his bright red face, before it dawned on me what I’d just done and I turned red, internally panicking before I stood up and ran out of the restaurant, finding a nearby bench to sit on.

“(Y/n)?”

I looked up to see Eliza and wiped my tears, “Je suis un putain d'idiot.”

“Non, tu n'es pas, (Y/n),” Eliza replied, sitting down next to me.

“Je suis cependant! Je ne peux pas croire que je viens de faire ça. Comment suis-je censé lui faire face après l'avoir embrassé du bleu, quand je suis sûr qu'il peut dire que j'étais contre la date pour commencer?” I asked, looking up at her again as she pulled me int a hug. Instead of her giving me a reply, I felt a tap on the shoulder (Y/n), “Je suis venu demander comment vous étiez. Vous avez fait du bon travail en me faisant taire. Je ne m'attendais certainement pas à cela, mais honnêtement, cela ne me dérangerait pas si vous le faisiez à nouveau.”

I felt my face heat up, starting to think that he had been able to understand everything I’d said in French the day when Gilbert was pestering me to go on a date with him. I looked John in the eye and smiled. John returned the smile and sat down on my other side, pulling me closer to him. I just giggled and kissed him.

MEANWHILE

“You sure this doesn’t make you uncomfortable, Laf? One of your best friends and your sister dating?”

“Non, Mon ami. This was my plan. (Y/n) has never had a boyfriend, it’s high time she gets one, and John is a perfect fit. Plus I know she’s got a ‘thing’ for freckles.”

“That is too much information.”

BACK TO YOU

“Alors, (Y/n) Vous voulez être ma petite amie?”

I nodded and kissed him again, my thumbs gliding along his freckled cheeks, “Les taches de rousseur le font vraiment pour moi ... vous êtes adorable.”

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

“Freckles, pouvez-vous la venir s'il vous plaît?” I asked, walking into the living room, knowing that the rest of the boys were in there. John nodded and stood up, leaving the room, following me, “Devez-vous m'appeler ‘Freckles’? Alex a commencé à me taquiner maintenant!”

“Freckles, vous êtes adorable,” I mutterd, leaning up and kissing him, “Mais c'est à part le point. Je voulais te dire quelque chose.”

“Eh bien, je suis toutes des oreilles.”

I took a deep breath and remembered what my brother had told me, “I-I love you!” I blurted out, hoping I’d said it right. John smiled and wrapped me in a hug, “J’taime aussi, (Y/n).”

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

So, this happened…. Remember, requests are open, just bonk em in the comments.