Helpless ⋆ Hamilton x Reader Oneshots

08. Thomas Jefferson x Reader: Only For You

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HELPLESS.
08. Thomas Jefferson x Reader: Only For You

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( Requested by Stay Alive is OORP: Quotev )

YOU couldn't believe it — you didn't want to believe that it was possible. Because John Laurens couldn't be dead; he was a warrior, not a body buried in the ground!

But it was true. According to the letter you had received, your brother had been killed in a gunfight against British troops retreating from South Carolina, not knowing that the war was already over.

As soon as you had finished reading the letter, you immediately rushed to your best friend's house where his wife, Elizabeth Schuyler, let you in when she saw you. "He's in his office," she said, ushering you up the stairs.

"Alexander?" you called and when you heard him shout hoarsely, "I'm busy, Eliza!" you opened the door.

"I'm not Eliza."

His head whipped around and he dropped the quill he was holding, knocking over the ink pot in the process and causing the ink to splatter onto the paper, destroying what he had written.

"(Y/N)," he said. "What are you—"

You cut him off, "I assume you got the letter, too?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"But he can't be dead." You sank to the floor and wrapped your arms around your legs, Alexander standing up from his chair and kneeling in front of you. "He just can't be."

"I'm sorry," he said gravely. "But it's true."

"No!" You were sobbing now, tears falling quickly down your cheeks. You looked up at the ceiling in despair. "WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?"

"Shouting at God isn't going to bring him back," Alexander said, avoiding saying your brother's name. "Believe me, I know."

"Alex," you muttered, "what am I going to do?"

He stood up, pulling you with him before bringing you into a tight hug. "I don't know," he said. "I don't know..."

And then, you were both sobbing, wishing that John Laurens had never gone to South Carolina.

"I'm Thomas Jefferson," were the three words that changed your life.

"She's (Y/N) Laurens and she's not interested."

Thomas smirked. "Hamilton, how nice to see you."

"Just leave her alone, Jefferson," Alexander retorted hotly. "She shouldn't be mixing with the likes of you."

"I can take care of myself, Alexander," you said, hitting your best friend on the arm. "I'm not a child — you can't coddle me."

"I'm just looking out for you. Jefferson is no good and can't be trusted."

"Hello." Thomas waved. "I'm still here."

Alexander rolled his eyes. "Go back to doing whatever the hell it is you did in Monticello, Jefferson."

You hit him again, making him shout, "Ouch!" and glare at you as he rubbed his arm.

"Don't be so rude," you scolded. "Now, say you're sorry."

He looked at you with wide eyes. "You're kidding, right?" he asked in disbelief. "Because I'm not—"

"Alexander Hamilton, you will apologise right now!"

He grumbled quietly to himself and begrudgingly muttered, "Sorry."

Thomas grinned, cupping a hand over one of his ears. "What was that?" he asked mockingly. "I'm going a bit deaf — speak up."

Alexander turned red in anger. "Why you little—"

"Alex!"

"—beautiful man!"

You looked at Alexander in shock. "Uh... Alex, what the hell was that?"

"I panicked," he answered, looking horrified.

Thomas, looking equally horrified, said, "Sorry to get your hopes up and crush your dreams, Hamilton, but we're two very different people. We could never work out." He turned to you, who was watching in amusement. "Your friend, on the other hand..."

"In your dreams, Jefferson. Keep your filthy hands off of her."

"I don't know, Alex," you said, staring at Thomas and twirling a piece of your hair around your finger flirtingly. "I think he'll be in my dreams tonight."

He groaned. "I give up!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands up in a mixture of desperation, annoyance, and resignation. "I'm done! My job—!"

"What job, Hamilton?" Thomas asked. "Because, last time I checked, you're just the Secretary of the Treasury — it's not really a job if you count money."

Alexander turned red again, this time, you didn't know whether it was out of embarrassment or anger; knowing him, it was probably anger. "When I get my hands on you I'm gonna strangle you, you—"

"Alex!" you warned again.

"—cute little pineapple."

"Let me guess, you panicked?"

He laughed nervously. "Goodbye!" He sprinted away before he could say anything else embarrassing.

Thomas turned to you. "Wanna go to my place?"

You hit his arm. "You're a pig!'

"I'm just trying to talk to a beautiful lady," he corrected with a grin.

"You really know how to compliment a woman," you said, returning the grin.

"Only for you."