A DISCIPLINED DISSIDENT

My name is Alex (they/them), and I am a simple human being with an insatiable passion for all things written and all things Hamilton. Requests are OPEN.

[imaginary-legendary-hamilton]

I👏LOVE👏YOUR👏WRITING👏SO👏MUCH

ARE YOU THE SAME ANON? CURIOSITY. But thank you. So much. I needed this right now. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

[imaginary-legendary-hamilton]

Your jefferson sin is 👌👀👌👀👌👀👌👀👌👀 good shit go౦ԁ sHit👌 thats ✔ some good👌👌shit right👌👌there👌👌👌 right✔there ✔✔if i do ƽaү so my self 💯 i say so 💯

I got this ask a while back but never responded to it. It made me feel so good. Guilty, but thank you so much, stranger! xx

[imaginary-legendary-hamilton]

You're amazing! ~ Lamoureux <3

I am too susceptible to getting over emotional when complimented. The Lamoureux bandit strikes again!

[imaginary-legendary-hamilton]

Your Home means the world to me I can't thank you enough for writing and sharing it ❤️ I can't wait to read the rest of the Comfort Series :)

Thank you so, so, so much. Reading this first thing when I woke up made me feel fuzzy. I'm so glad <3 Much love.

[imaginary-legendary-hamilton]

Your Home (Thomas x Reader) [Comfort Series—1]

Pairing(s): Thomas x Reader. Request: Not a request—a new kind of series-ish thing. So, any mental health related requests, or just general comfort-related requests, will be a part of the Comfort Series. I might prioritise these particular, trigger warning-y ones, above other requests, just slightly. Prompt(s): None. Title: Your Home. Word Count: 1000+ AU(s): Modern AU—College AU. Reader Gender: Not mentioned. Warning(s): Depression, emotional breakdown.

You couldn’t do it anymore. You couldn’t. It was so hard. It was all so hard. You wanted your Thomas. You didn’t have work or classes today, and without any plans, you’d ended up on the couch, still in the same state you’d woken up in, flicking through Netflix and finding nothing appealing. Thomas wasn’t due back from classes for another few hours.

It felt like there was just this haze over your eyes, over your life, but you could still see everything so clearly. It felt like your body was moving itself, but simultaneously not moving at all. You couldn’t really feel what you touched; you couldn’t really taste what you ate. You couldn’t really do anything. You were barely scraping by in your classes, and found yourself not attending, more than once. Thomas didn’t know that, though. You didn’t share any classes.

This had been going on since before you met Thomas—he didn’t really know you any other way. It made you sad, genuinely sad. He’d never know a version of you like how you were before, before depression worked its way into your life. You were always questioning whether or not he actually loved you. You knew he did, but did he really even know you? He loved some part of you, but was it really you? You couldn’t help but question it.

And there, sitting curled up on the couch and turning off the TV, you broke down. It didn’t really feel like you were actually crying. But you were, you felt the hot tears running down your face and your breath, which didn’t sound like your own, was becoming shallow as sobs caught in your throat. You clamped your eyes shut and buried your face in the couch cushion, trying to stop while at the same time doing anything but.

You barely registered how loud your sobs had become, barely registered the sound of your apartment door opening and only looked up when you heard his voice.

“(Y/N), I got out early, thought I’d surprise you with lun-“ It was then, mid-sentence, that he noticed your form, still in pyjamas and your hair sticking out, your face puffy and red from the crying. You looked wrecked. “Oh, honey.”

All at once, you felt your lip quiver again and as he set down the bag of food and his keys, pulling you into his chest when he sat beside you, you were startled, truly having thought that he’d turn and walk away; that he’d find you too disgusting.

He made small, soft shushing noises as you cried almost manically into his shirt, begging yourself silently to stop being a nuisance. Your thoughts were silenced by his small whispers of, “I love you,” and, “I love you so much.”

Eventually, you felt yourself calming significantly, but you remained buried in his chest because there was no way you could look at him after that. You couldn’t let him see you. In that moment, you didn’t really want to exist.

“(Y/N),” His voice was firm as he manoeuvred his hand to rest it on your cheek and push lightly so that you were facing him. You looked terrible. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

You felt that particular question like a pressure on your chest. “No.” You felt miserable, and if you had any energy, you’d probably have protested loudly. “Nothing happened. That’s the problem.”

Thomas’ brow furrowed. “Are you saying you’re depressed?”

You shut your eyes, not wanting to look at him. The way he said it, so simply, made you feel so small.

“(Y/N), love, that’s okay.” He didn’t ask you to open your eyes, didn’t even move. “You know how I don’t talk about when I was younger a lot?” You gave a small hum and he continued. “When I was 13, I was diagnosed with anxiety and depression. I took medication and was in therapy for 4 years.”

You frowned as you opened your eyes, shifting away from his chest to look at him properly. You took both of his hands, and now you were both sitting cross-legged facing each other, hands linked. How had you not known? “You never told me?”

He shook his head. “It was never worth mentioning. Sure, there are still days, there will always be days, but it’s nothing like it used to be.” He took one hand and rested it against your cheek, letting you lean into the warm touch. “We’ll get you through this, though. How long?”

You sniffed, not wanting to tell him. “A few years, now. I always managed to hide it, but…” You trailed off. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “Nothing to apologise for, my most beautiful person. I know how easy it is to hide it from everyone. I’m sorry I didn’t notice sooner.”

You perked up at that. “Please don’t. You just said it’s easy to hide, and we’ve only been together for less than a year, now. Don’t feel bad, please.”

He let you speak before finally resting one finger lightly to your lips. “Hey, hey, shush.” You looked him in the eyes, trying desperately to communicate what you couldn’t say. He understood. “I don’t feel bad about not knowing. I feel bad that you’ve had to feel like this for so long. I know what it’s like. Have you ever seen anyone?”

You shook your head. “Once, briefly, but it never really continued. That was a couple of years ago.”

He moved forward and pulled you towards him, resting his head in your neck the way he knew you loved. You played with his hair a little, wrapping one arm securely around his waist. The two of you held each other as close as possible and he spoke softly.

“We can book an appointment tomorrow? You can see my old therapist, maybe? She’s good.”

You nodded wordlessly, and he hummed, his hold on you so soft, and for once, you didn’t mind feeling slightly fragile, because he was just your home.

“You’re going to be okay. I promise, (Y/N), I really do.”

You believed him.

[imaginary-legendary-hamilton]

Six (Thomas x Reader)

Pairing(s): Thomas x Reader Request: This wasn’t even a request. Just self-indulgence. Prompt(s): None. Title: Six Word Count: 2300+ AU(s): Modern Reader Gender: Reader has female biology, but no actual gender is specified. Warning(s): Uh. Sin? Pure, sinful smut. Mildly kinky, a bit of dom-Thomas/sub-Reader, ya feel? Also swearing, ofc. Also unprotected sex. Use protection, fam. Also shower sex. Jesus, for my first ever smut, this is actually so… so… wow. Notes: Excuse me while I try to deep cleanse myself of the sins I’ve just committed.

You were pinned to the wall within seconds of getting home, and Thomas’ breath tickled your neck as he planted kisses of every shade, soft and sweet, rough and hungry, leaving a trail of bruises that you knew you’d have to cover up for days following—did you really want to cover them, though? You wouldn’t put it past Thomas to deliberately steal your scarf or wipe off your makeup while you were in public—actually, no, he’d definitely done that before.

Your mind was drawn back to the present as you felt his hand reach between your legs, and you let out a completely involuntary moan. “Thomas, shit, I’ve only been gone for a week.”

His hands left you, leaving behind an unwelcome and dissatisfying cold. He smirked knowingly as he backtracked towards your bedroom. “Seven days too many.” It came out with complete control, as if he wasn’t even the slightest bit flustered; the obvious bulge that stuck against his skinny jeans—which, you knew, he’d definitely worn on purpose—told a different story. “Well? I know the week’s been stressful for you. Let’s de-stress.” He gave you a final, drawn out smirk paired with a wink before stepping into the bedroom and out of your vision.

You let your own smirk grace your features as you dropped your bag and keys on the floor before making a beeline for the kitchen and starting to prepare yourself a coffee, making sure to exaggerate the sounds as you did.

It took less than thirty seconds, exactly, for him to emerge from the bedroom with a groan. “(Y/N), just take off your clothes and get the fuck in here.” You didn’t move, but jumped when you felt his arms snake around your waist, pulling you away from the counter.

With a loud cry, you struggled to get free, but froze when his teeth grazed the back of your neck and he growled. “You don’t get to tease me. Not tonight.” His voice was different. It wasn’t malicious, but there was a longing in it, an almost aggressive longing. It wasn’t something you’d ever heard from him before.

You shifted so that you were facing him and pulled yourself up to his lips, allowing him immediate entrance instead of teasing, like usual. He really wanted you—hell, he needed you, and you knew he’d give you every bit as much pleasure as he received, if not more.

Your tongues met and he lifted you onto the counter, pulling your pants roughly down, letting them pool at your ankles as he bit your lips softly.

All at once, he pulled away completely and you let out a moan louder than you’d anticipated. He smirked in response and drew closer to you, lacing one hand through your hair and the other resting on your exposed thigh. “(Y/N),” He came close to your ear and whispered, his hot breath making you shiver. “Pick a number between 1 and 10.” The way he said it, with such triumph and pride, as if he was the smartest person alive—which, he probably thought he was—made you frown.

“Thomas, seriously, I just want to have sex alre-“ He cut you off with a squeeze to your thigh, just enough to hurt and still be pleasurable, and making you yelp.

“(Y/N), pick a number.” It was his no-argument tone, which you’d usually dispute regardless, but you really just wanted him to fuck you already, so you obliged.

“Fucking 6, god dammit, Thomas, just—” Before you’d even finished the sentence, he was chuckling, and he stepped back just enough to face you, lacing his arms around your waist again and pulling you off the counter. “Thomas, what? What does the number mean?” You were slightly worried. The last time he’d asked you to pick a number, he’d come back with a sex toy you didn’t know he owned, and shit, you hadn’t stopped aching for a week. Thomas was a kinky bastard sometimes.

He said nothing, still chuckling as he carried you into the bedroom and practically threw you on the bed, ripping your pants from your legs completely before holding himself up on top of you.

“That’s how many times I’m going to make you come.”

The words passed right over you with a violent shiver and went straight downward, hitting you right where it mattered most. “Oh my god.” It slipped from you lips involuntarily and his smirk grew wider.

He wasted no time in letting his lips crash onto yours, and without warning his hand was between your legs again, rubbing friction between your underwear and your clit. The hunger he was feeling ricocheted through you, and you grinded against his hand, eliciting another chuckle from him, one that vibrated your lips and forced a moan from you.

His hand worked its way under the fabric and, with only a moments warning, a single finger run along your slit, he pushed two fingers inside, pumping them in and out mercilessly. You stifled a loud cry in place of a soft whimper, and as he added a third finger, his thumb running diagonally across your clit the entire time, he leant towards you and whispered against your lips.

“Let me hear it, (Y/N). I want to hear you scream.”

His deep tenor vibrated through you, and you were almost embarrassed as you came hard around his fingers, letting out a scream of pure pleasure as white surrounded your vision. Just as you were coming off of the high, you felt heat against your clit and suddenly Thomas’ tongue was running along your wetness, licking up the remaining liquid with a hum of satisfaction.

“I’ve never made you come with just my fingers,” he said it conversationally, as if every syllable wasn’t sending shocks through you as his lips left tremors wherever they went. “What will this do?” With that, he plunged his tongue into you along with a finger, and he promptly added a second.

You didn’t have time to respond or react before he was pumping in and out of you again, and you screamed his name, bunching the sheets in your hands as if they were your only lifeline because god, this felt ridiculous.

It only took a moment before you came again, just as hard, and he lapped up the fluids before stepping away.

You could have been satisfied simply by that, but you knew that Thomas most certainly was not. He’d promised you six, and you’d get six.

He began to strip off his jeans, and with them went his underwear, and you forced yourself up and crawled forward, taking him in your hand and positioning your mouth before he suddenly, with a moan, pushed you roughly back onto the bed.

“No. Tonight is all about you.”

You frowned at that. “So, what, you’re just not going to let me do anything?” It sounded whiny, but really, he knew that you wanted to please him to repay him for how damn good he’d made you feel.

His smile was genuine this time, no smirk or grin, nothing too devilish, and he stripped off his shirt and came towards you, slipping off your underwear completely before running his hands up under your shirt. “Your pleasure,” he kissed his way up your stomach as he slowly removed your shirt. “Your comfort,” He reached your bra and kissed over it, pulling your shirt up over your head. “Your happiness, your satisfaction…” He finally reached your lips and hovered just above them as he unclasped your bra expertly. “Is all that matters to me.”

And finally the two of you were naked and his lips crashed against yours, you could taste yourself on him and you could smell his cologne, you could feel acutely where his skin met yours and god, it was almost sensory overload but the pleasure of it all was indescribable.

He pulled back and gave you that meaningful look, the one he rarely showed, the one full of sincerity so genuine that you never doubted for a second its legitimacy. “I love you, (Y/N). I love you unintelligibly.” With that, he positioned himself at your entrance and slowly pushed into you. You moaned loudly and were reduced to soft pants as he pulled out.

His playful nature returned almost instantaneously as he leaned towards you, thrusting so slowly that it was too teasing to be pleasurable. “Jesus, (Y/N), you say only a week, but you’re so tight.” His lips grazed your cheeks, respectively. “You really did miss me.”

He rested his weight on one arm as he lay over you, the other returning to your clit and pushing on it, pinching it lightly and rubbing it and mixing just enough pain with pleasure as he slowly sped up. His lips met your neck once more as you tried to catch your breath, taking in all the senses as he mouthed at your breast, licking at your nipple.

“Thomas,” You breathed out his name and felt his lips curl into a smirk on your skin. “Thomas, faster.”

His lips pulled away as he steadied himself with both arms, and though you mourned the loss of his hand on your clit, his steady pace well made up for it. He sped up slowly at first, until suddenly and without warning, he thrusted into you with such force that he hit your g-spot immediately and you came around him with a cry and an inconceivable splutter of surprise.

“Jesus Christ, (Y/N), holy shit.” The syllables were broken and as he rode you through your orgasm, there was something wonderfully sexy about the idea that you could reduce him, the ‘almighty’, arrogant bastard that was Thomas Jefferson, to incoherent mumbles.

“Faster,” You breathed out as you finally regained some sense, and he locked eyes with you seriously.

“Are you sure?”

You panted a few times, trying to regain enough breath to respond.

“Yes, goddamn it, Thomas, of course I’m fucking—“ Your words dissipated into a strangled scream as he thrusted into you with burning speed, leaving you whimpering beneath him.

As you laced your hands through his hair, he moaned, growing louder as you connected your lips with his neck, sucking hard. His pace faltered somewhat as he tried to speak, “(Y/N), I’m clo—“ Before he could even finish the words, you felt his seed fill you completely, and you came together, marking only the fourth time.

As he collapsed beside you, the both of you reduced to panting, sweaty messes, he wrapped his arms around you and you thought, surely he wouldn’t really feel the need to get to six?

After a few moments of silence and recovery, he pulled away from you before picking you up off the bed with unfair ease, seeming to have lost very little energy, and he grinned as he peppered kisses all over your face, compelling giggles from you.

“I’d let you rest, but I did promise six,” his grin faded into a smirk. “And I fully intend to uphold that promise.”

You didn’t realise where you were going until you heard the familiar squeak of the bathroom door, and you heard him turn on the shower. He set you down with his hands still roaming your body, and you pulled his lips from your neck to smash your own against them, forcing your tongue into his mouth.

There was a muffled, “God, I love you,” somewhere on his part as you waited for the water to heat, and before you knew it he’d pushed you against the wall of the shower and the hot water ran over the both of you, your lips never once parting, even for air.

“Thomas,” You moaned his name as you knew he loved, grinding yourself against his leg and eliciting a groan from him as he finally allowed you to fall to your knees and take him in your mouth, sliding your tongue expertly up his shaft and letting your teeth graze just to the point you knew he adored.

He leaned against the cold, tiled wall above you and you felt pride in having reduced him to a mess of stutters, from curses to your name and all the way back. You briefly heard him mutter about being close before you felt yourself being pulled up and suddenly you were facing the wall with him pushing immediately into you from behind.

You screamed out half of his name before the rest was stifled into a whine and he thrusted in and out of you at a relentless pace, gripping both of your shoulders to keep the two of you steady.

“(Y/N), come for me, baby.” He murmured in your ear, pressing a long kiss to your neck, sucking and biting as you writhed. “Come for me.”

Hardly one to deny him what he wanted, you let all of your weight fall to him as you released yourself once more, a groan dragging from your lips, and evidently your own release prompted him, because soon enough he was filling you again.

As you both left your highs, again, there were soft murmurs of love muttered between you, and you let your arms link around his waist as he dropped his own over your shoulders.

“Thank you,” you spoke against his chest, letting your eyes slip shut as tiredness overcame you. “I love you, Thomas.”

He pressed kisses to your forehead as he responded. “And I, you, my dear.”

You let out a sigh as you peered up at him, almost expecting his most probable answer. “But do we have to go again? I’m tired.” Despite the whine, you let an expectant grin work its way onto your lips.

He smirked, the widest one yet, and pushed you lightly against the wall again. “Oh, sweetheart, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I broke a promise to my beloved?”

You sighed in mocking exasperation. “Shut up before I kiss that stupid smirk right off your lips.”

And that’s exactly what you did.

[imaginary-legendary-hamilton]

Oblivious (Lafayette x Reader)

Pairing(s): Lafayette x Reader. Request (@pastelscutie): 71 and 58 with laf? like where he's freaking in love with reader but they're a dumb obvious dork and he's like oK U KNOW WHAT I LOVE U Prompt(s): “I’ve been in love with you my entire life. Ever since the day I first met you.”—“You are the single best thing that has ever happened to me.” Title: Oblivious Word Count: 2000+ AU(s): Modern—University Reader Gender: Neutral. Warning(s): Swearing. Notes: Got a little carried away. Hope you like it!

> > >

You met in a coffee shop. Laf didn’t want to admit it, but he’d been utterly infatuated with you from the moment he laid eyes on you. You were typing away at your laptop, your lips occasionally twitching upward before you bit your lip to keep from smiling.

He’d sat down with Herc beside him, Alex and John on the opposite side of the table, and, in a manner far less than discreet, glanced at you, what the others described as, ‘every two minutes’. Eventually, they’d grown tired of his fawning from afar and John, ever being the one to root for the romantic lives of all of his friends, had risen without warning and slipped into the seat across from you.

What was said at the table had been completely inaudible to Lafayette, but you did, at one point, glance at him from over John’s shoulder with a light blush covering you face, and it was from that moment that Laf swore he was head over heels and would be for some time to come.

That said, he hadn’t imagined it would be quite this long that he’d have to wait for you to actually reciprocate and-slash-or respond to those feelings—and he was absolutely sure that he had reached beyond the point of being clear. He was being downright obvious by this point.

Yet, in your almost Alexander-like manner towards school work, even though you’d now been friends with the group of four for over a year, you still had not noticed anything. Or, perhaps you’d noticed, but had refused to allow yourself to admit to having fallen completely, utterly and madly in love with the Frenchman, for fear of having your heart broken.

It was simple really; you knew that Lafayette had his history with romantic escapades, and you’d seen his all-too-flirty nature more than once—hell, he was flirty around even your main friendship group, despite there being no actual romantic interest there, by any means.

So, somewhere along the line of his incessant flirting, you’d resigned yourself to being just another of the people he was himself around—being that he was, of being and quite clearly of heart, French to his core. You knew that the nation had its reputation of being passionate and affectionate, and so you’d chalked up the sweet kisses on the cheek and frequent grazes between the two of you, the way he’d throw his arm lazily around you when given the chance, or even pull your hands away from your laptop to plant light kisses upon then—you’d decided that it was all simply intrinsic to his nature, and that, no, it certainly couldn’t be any genuine infatuation or interest.

And so, here Lafayette remained, over a year after he basically fell for you upon the very first sight, still pining with no return. The others would constantly push him to say, straightforward, that he was in love with you, to take you on a date, or, as Alexander suggested, “Just fucking kiss them already.” But he would have none of it, and refused to push you even the slightest bit, wishing to wait for a sign that you reciprocated his feelings.

And now? Now the rest of your band of misfits had decided that it was time they intervene. They’d watched on for far too long, and though Hercules had stopped the pursuits to meddle when it came to the six month mark, he too decided that over a year was definitely enough.

It was a simple plan, really. Locate Professor Washington, who favoured all of them, and beg him to allow them to lock the two of you in a classroom with very specific, well thought out instructions written on the whiteboard. He’d agreed, albeit tentatively, and it was clear that he’d refrained from rolling his eyes at the shenanigans of the three.

And so, there you were, the plan ready to be set in motion.

The class was ending, a short course the five of you had opted to take for extra credit, and as students filed out, Alexander played the part of his clumsy self and ‘accidentally’ knocked all of your books and notes from the table where you and Lafayette had been seated.

You groaned at him, muttering what sounded suspiciously like a, ‘fuck off, Alexander’, as you bent down to reclaim your stuff. Just as planned, Lafayette was quick to follow suit, shooting an exasperated glare at Alex, who was quick to run out through the door as the two of you shuffled through the mess.

As this occurred, at the front of the room, John had raced up and grabbed a marker, writing as quickly as he could across the board. “KISS THEM ALREADY!!!” Yes, he decided. It seemed suitable, his messy scrawl tapering off with the exclamations for added effect before he glanced back to see the two of you still bent over, so ironically oblivious as to what was occurring around you. He, too, ran from the classroom, barely holding in his chuckles as Hercules waited just outside the door, Professor Washington’s keys in hand.

And finally, when the three of them were all outside safely, the door was shut and lock was turned, all of them ducking out of the line of sight from the small glass panel through which they could have been visible. That said, they couldn’t ultimately resist the temptation to peek in, no matter how inconspicuously it was done.

You noticed first, and, seeing the poorly repressed smirks of your three friends outside of the closed door, abandoned your stuff with Laf to race over and reach for the doorknob—

“It’s locked.” You turned to Laf, who frowned for a moment before his eyes were drawn towards the whiteboard, where the giant writing demanded attention.

“Ces trous du cul putain.” He couldn’t stop himself from letting it slip, the intense cursing of his closest friends, but even so, he also couldn’t help but stare at you, gauging your reaction as you, upon hearing his angered words, turned to see what had so personally offended him.

“What?” The question had slipped from your mouth before you’d even seen the board, simply asking what Lafayette had felt the need to say in his mouther tongue, but a second inquisition was inevitable as you studied the words before you. “Wait, what?”

You stared at the words for a few moments longer than you realistically should have, identifying the familiar handwriting as John’s before you turned back to see Lafayette, who was taking great pains to keep his head down, well out of your eyesight, picking up the remainder of your stuff and setting it on the desk.

“They’re assholes.” It was the basic translation of what he’d said, he didn’t want to directly curse so heavily in front of you, which he knew was stupid, given your time around the profane group as a whole—and equally so, your own consistent contributions.

You, not unlike you had been for the last year, were just as oblivious, or perhaps more appropriately, ignorant, as to what was happening, and eventually Lafayette looked up at you, meeting your eyes with intensity that made your knees weak and brought out all of the feelings you’d so desperately repressed since day one.

There was still a long period of silence wherein neither of you spoke, simply staring at one another, and you were painfully certain that you’d invented several new shades of red on your face, and could have sworn you could even see some flush in Lafayette’s cheeks.

“I’ve been in love with you my entire life.”

It was sudden, and you barely had time to blink before you’d responded unthinkingly.

“That’s not possible.”

Lafayette was thrown by this, before he, somewhere in the back of his mind, convinced himself that you were calling him out on the specifics, that he couldn’t have possibly loved you his entire life, because he hadn’t actually known you his entire life. So, he differed in his approach.

“Ever since the day I first met you.”

You couldn’t move and you felt like you couldn’t breathe, either. You knees—oh god, you swore that your knees would give out any second, but you couldn’t bring yourself to break what felt like solid ice all around you to reach for the support of a desk. You shook your head and shook it again and before you knew it you’d clamped your eyes shut and just repeatedly moved your head from side to side, now caught in a new trance.

“No, no you’re not—you haven’t been, no.” You were stuttering out words and eventually coughed, stopping your shaking head and stepping back, finally finding your way to a desk that you leant the majority of your weight on, effectively strengthening your resolve. “This is an elaborate joke, I’ll give you that, but—“ You stopped when you finally registered the pain that had taken residence in Laf’s eyes.

Lafayette could feel his heart breaking clean in two. He was sure that if you said anything else it would shatter. But he’d never been one to back down, never been one to break his resolution and never, ever had he been one to be dishonest. So he did what he did best, and spoke instead the truth.

“You are the single best thing that has ever happened to me, cher.”

You knew enough French to recognise the term of endearment, and you felt panic rising in your chest. “No, Laf, please don’t do this to me.”

This time it was confusion and hurt that flashed across his face, and you almost felt yourself falling to the ground from the expression alone, from the idea that you could ever possibly hurt him.

He was the person that you called ‘Your Laf’ in your head, but never dared to ever believe for a second that you actually had any semblance of possession over him. You knew you never would.

“I have loved you for this past year and I waited—god, (Y/N), I waited for some sign, some shred that perhaps you reciprocated my affections. But, dans l'ensemble de votre beauté stupide—“

“Laf, I can’t understand you.” It was almost a whine—usually you’d just allow his random French to slip past you, but god, if he was saying what you hoped, so desperately, that he was saying, then you wanted to hear it.

“It doesn’t matter. You never showed any sign that you shared my affections, and so—“

He’d hung his head at this point, and you couldn’t help but step forward with new resolve, placing a hand on his cheek. His eyes met yours and you saw them flick to your lips briefly.

“You flirted with everyone. I figured it was just you. It was always just you.” You let frustration seep into your tone. “And I held back all of the feelings that grew so quickly, I held back the l—“ You couldn’t say it. It was still so, so terrifying. You didn’t want to get hurt.

Suddenly, his lips were on yours and you swore you could hear the cheers of your three viewers, who you’d long since forgotten as you melted into the kiss.

When you pulled apart, he continued speaking as if it had never happened. “What about when I did this,” he pulled your hand up and pressed his lips lightly to it before letting it rest at your side, but still not letting it go. “Or this,” he used his free hand to move a strand of hair from your face and placed kisses, soft, light kisses, to both of your cheeks. “Or this,” he moved to kiss your eyelids, your nose, your chin, and finally your mouth, and you felt him smiling as you giggled into the kiss.

When you both pulled away, you felt the blush seeping back into your cheeks and you opened your eyes to see Laf looking very much the same. “Well,” you pursed your lips and glanced away out of embarrassment. “You never did that.”

Suddenly, the flustered expression all but faded from his face, and he smirked. “I suppose I’ll just have to do so far more often.”

[imaginary-legendary-hamilton]

Daveed Diggs as Thomas Jefferson. This was literally supposed to be a quick, not-showing-anyone-ever sketch to help me get back into digital art again. And yet it's decent? Time taken: 1 and a half hours, maybe?

[imaginary-legendary-hamilton]

Remember? (Lafayette x Reader)

Pairing(s): Lafayette x Reader (and mild Alex + John because I’m actual trash). Request (@spnavengelock): Do you mind writing a Lafayette x reader with the prompts 10, 35 and 36? Prompt(s): “I might have had a few shots.”—“Before I do this, I need you to know that I have always loved you.”—“Did I say that out loud?” Title: Remember? Word Count: 1350. Time Period: Modern. Reader Gender: Neutral. Warning(s): Drinking, implied violence, swearing, very mild sex jokes. Notes: Thank you for the first request! xx

> > >

“I might have had a few shots.”

His English was somewhat more broken than usual and you shook your head as you slipped into the booth beside him, sliding across his lap to situate yourself into the corner. Lafayette was unmistakably drunk.

“A few?” You questioned playfully, raising an eyebrow as he lazily threw an arm around you with a confident nod.

The two of you weren’t together, but displays of affection such as this were all too normal. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a ridiculous fondness for the Frenchman.

John, who was planted between Alex and Hercules across from you, let out what almost sounded like a giggle. “A few!” He threw an arm listlessly behind Alex’s back, mimicking your position. “A few, he says, Alex!”

Lafayette squawked indignantly as Hercules and Alex both joined John in a chorus of laughter. You chuckled from beneath Lafayette’s arm and shook your head.

You were often the sober friend among the group, and if it wasn’t you then, well, really, nobody was sober, except maybe Herc. It was just one of those nights when you’d rather watch on and be able to laugh at the ridiculous antics of the four, with the added bonus of being able to bring everything back up to jog their fuzzy memories in the morning. You prided yourself on that part being your duty.

“Well, if it isn’t the orphan himself!” The laughter at your table was immediately ceased as you turned to see Thomas Jefferson, his hands gracefully resting on his hips as he cackled, clearly having had ‘a few’ himself. “Speak of the devil and he shall appear!” He spoke sideways, basically shouting in the face of James Madison, who was with Thomas near constantly during these outings.

James threw a glance towards you and rolled his eyes, evidently having also made the decision to be the sober friend for the night. You chuckled in response but cut the laugh short when you felt Lafayette move from beside you.

“Alexander is no orphan!” He all but shouted, putting a hand over his chest for emphasis. “Il est notre enfant!” He made a wild gesture towards the four of you who were still sitting at in the booth, and John immediately burst into obnoxious laughter, throwing his head back as Alex blinked in somewhat adorable confusion.

You felt left out of the joke, even moreso when Thomas shot back in French with a smirk. “Eh bien, monsieur, vous avez soulevé un chien!”

You swore you heard Lafayette growl, like, actually growl, and you were ready for punches to be thrown, a fairly normal occurrence not worth any worry, but you didn’t expect Lafayette to turn back around, kneel on the seat of the booth and come incredibly close to your face.

“Before I do this,” he spoke with full seriousness and his warm breath tickled your nose. “I need you to know that I have always loved you.” With that, he planted a chaste kiss upon your lips before throwing himself out of the booth.

You watched, unmoving, as he smoothed down his clothes and threw his shoulders back before, with a yell, he leapt towards Thomas, crying, “C’est mon fils!”

Soon enough, Alex and John had joined the now one-on-three fray, and James slid into the booth beside Herc, who was apparently more sober than you’d initially gleaned.

He smirked with a raised eyebrow. “Since when have you and Frenchie been a thing, (Y/N)?”

You blinked, still surprised by the kiss and Lafayette’s words, and waited a second too long to answer. Hercules did for you.

“Oh, they’ve been dating for years now.” He waved his hand dismissively in the air, smiling innocently at you. “They just didn’t know it until tonight.” He smirked, but the expression died when the fighting beside the three of you was interrupted and you watched the owner kick the ragtag four out of the bar.

You pursed your lips and glanced back between James and Hercules. “Guess we’d better go get our children?” You joked, rolling your eyes with a small laugh and rising out of your seat, forgetting, through the distraction, to deny Hercules’ words.

> > >

The next day, you woke up in your apartment, which, while your own, was in the same building as all of the other’s respective apartments, to a myriad of texts from the group chat, ‘Hamilsquad’. It had initially been Alexander who was the four-way mutual friend that brought you all together, so it was only fitting—that said, it had also been Alex who’d chosen the name.

As you read through the messages, it became apparent that you’d slept in somewhat. It was already 11am, and you’d missed the first wake-up-and-oh-remember-what-you-did-last-night messages, which you’d usually have instigated. It seemed Herc had done so for you.

Hercules: So, who remembers last night? John: Oh, I remember everything. Hercules: Everything? John: Everything ;) Alexander: (Y/N) did you turn my fucking volume all the way up again because I swear to god, these messages ensure that I do not need an alarm clock and I hate you all. John: Oh, sorry, did we wake you up? :P Hercules: That was me, btw. Alexander: Oh, good. I love (Y/N) too much to murder them, but you. You, I can consider. Hercules: Yeah, okay, but do you remember last night, man? Alexander: Oh, I’m more interested in whether or not Laf remembers. John: We’ll just have to make him remember. It’s been too long coming. Alexander: Preach. Hercules: Well, James already thinks they’re dating, so. John: That’s honestly not even slightly surprising. Lafayette: I remember everything and want to remember nothing. Alexander: It’s okay, daddy. Lafayette: Fuck you, Alex. Hercules: I was under the impression that you were waiting for (Y/N), Laf. Lafayette: Fuck you all. John: What did I do? :O Lafayette: Certainly not Alex, yet. Alexander: … John: … Hercules: Wait. Lafayette: WAIT. Hercules: Seriously?! How did we not know?! John: Laf is too focused on (Y/N), and you’re too focused on Laf and (Y/N). Alexander: HOLD UP, ACTUAL LAF QUOTE RIGHT HERE: Alexander: “And (Y/N) isn’t focused enough on me.” Lafayette: Wait, did I say that out loud? Merde.

It was at this point you decided to cut in.

(Y/N): Uh, excuse me? Lafayette: I swear I didn’t actually say that. (Y/N): I’m calling absolute bullshit. Lafayette: … Alexander: He definitely said it, (Y/N). He’s sitting right beside me, take my word for it. (Y/N): I would take Laf’s word over yours literally any other day, but I’m kind of hoping he did say it, tbh. I’m also hoping he remembers last night. Alexander: You wound me—but you also might want to prepare yourself because Laf is on his way up there right now. Just a heads up.

Your eyes widened and you freaked out, jumping out of the bed and dropping your phone in the process, ignoring it as you raced to the front door just as Laf entered, no knock as usual.

“Hi.” You said.

“Hi.” He responded.

There was a moment of silence between the two of you before he spoke again.

“So, about last night,” he began to form a justification of his words but you interrupted him.

“Did you mean it?” You asked. “Or was that just drunk Laf?” You felt yourself grow flustered as you looked down. “Because I mean, it’s totally okay if it was just drunk Laf, but…” You stopped as his feet entered your vision, and you looked up to see him standing before you, eyes still groggy with sleep upon closer inspection.

“Do you want me to have meant it, or do you want it to have been drunk Laf?” He asked carefully, speaking softly, his accent thick.

You blinked a few times. “I want you to have meant it.” You stated simply, tearing away the usual theatrics of it all.

His lips met yours in a soft kiss that lasted all of 2 seconds.

“I meant it and I’ve meant it for years, mon chou.”

[imaginary-legendary-hamilton]

WRITING PROMPTS

WRITING PROMPTS FOR DAYS Feel free to request any of these for any character.

1. “Do you want me to leave?” 2. “I swear it won’t happen again.” 3. “I’m not jealous.” 4. “You can’t keep doing this.” 5. “I’m going to take care of you, okay?” 6. “You can’t die. Please don’t die.” 7. “You did what?!” 8. “Were you ever going to tell me?” 9. “Don’t ask me that.” 10. “I might have had a few shots.” 11. “What’s with the box?” 12. “Say it!” 13. “I could kiss you right now!” 14. “Are you done with that?” 15. “Are you still awake…?” 16. “Excuse you?” 17. “This is all your fault!” 18. “I shouldn’t be in love with you.” 19. “I could kill you right now!” 20. “Just admit I’m right.” 21. “That doesn’t even make sense.” 22. “That’s irrational.” 23. “Just pretend to be my date.” 24. “Are you really going to leave without asking me the question you’ve been dying to ask me?” 25. “When you love someone, you don’t just stop. Ever. Even when people roll their eyes or call you crazy… even then. Especially then!” 26. “I think I’ve been holding myself from falling in love with you all over again.” 27. “I’m not going to apologise for this. Not anymore.” 28. “That’s almost exactly the opposite of what I meant.” 29. “It must be hard with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line.” 30. “Can I sit here? The other tables are full.” 31. “You weren’t supposed to laugh!” 32. “This is, by far, the dumbest thing you’ve ever done.” 33. “I’m not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention.” 34. “These stars are nothing compared to the ones I’ve seen in your eyes.” 35. “Before I do this, I need you to know that I have always loved you.” 36. “Did I say that out loud?” 37. “Do you think they could have loved me?” 38. “Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy.” 39. “How long have you been standing there?” 40. “Have I ever lied to you?” 41. “Have you lost your fucking mind?” 42. “His ego is so visible; I can almost watch it grow.” 43. “I am not losing you again!” 44. “I don’t know why I’m crying.” 45. “I had a nightmare about you and I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” 46. “I just need to be alone right now.” 47. “When I picture myself happy… It’s with you.” 48. “I made a mistake.” 49. “I may be an idiot, but I’m your idiot.” 50. “I need you to forgive me.” 51. “I see the way you look at me when you think I’m not looking.” 52. “I think I’m in love with you and that scares me half to death.” 53. “I’m flirting with you.” 54. “I’m not good enough for you.” 55. “I fell in love with my best friend.” 56. “I’m sorry, what? I keep getting lost in your eyes.” 57. “I’m up to the challenge.” 58. “I’ve been in love with you my entire life. Ever since the day I first met you.” 59. “I’m yours.” 60. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to seduce me.” 61. “If you go anywhere near them, you’ll have to deal with me!” 62. “It’s okay to cry…” 63. “What do you mean? It’s exciting!” 64. “Talk to me.” 65. “Look at me—just breathe, okay?” 66. “Look, I don’t have much time, but I wanted to say I love you.” 67. “Oh my god! You’re in love with them!” 68. “Well, this is where I live.” 69. “We finish it the same way we started—together.” 70. “What are you afraid of?” 71. “You are the single best thing that has ever happened to me.” 72. “You deserve so much better.” 73. “You don’t have to stay.” 74. “You don’t know you the way I do.” 75. “You fainted, straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention, you didn’t have to go to such extremes.” 76. “You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.” 77. “You shouldn’t have even been there!” 78. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.” 79. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you.” 80. “Teach me?” 81. “We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you want to stop and feel the rain?” 82. “Looks like we’ll be stuck here for a while.” 83. “Just once.” 84. “I can’t believe you talked me into this.” 85. “It’s not what it looks like.” 86. “I got you a present.” 87. “Hey! I was gonna eat that!” 88. “See, now, what that so bad?”.” 89. “You’re the best part of me.” 90. “I don’t want to think about what I’d be like without you.” 91. “Can I hold your hand?” 92. “Let’s move in together.” 93. “It’s a real shame nobody asked for your opinion.” 94. “What time is it?” 95. “Just wait a second.” 96. “Here, let me.” 97. “You’re so cute when you pout like that.” 98. “Hold me back!’ 99. “I don’t care what they said, it doesn’t mean shit!” 100. “I adore you.”