Helpless| Hamilton Character x Reader|

Hercules Mulligan x Reader

Hamiltime *dabs* omg the should make a dabbing emoji

Summary: I think that I could be of some assistance 😂
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You sighed as you sat down at your desk. Writing was more of your brother's forte.

You were planning to write a letter Hercules Mulligan. He was a soldier for your adoptive father, George Washington, and also a spy.

"Alexander," you said, walking into his room.

"Yes, (y/n)?" He said, looking at himself in the mirror. He was preparing for tonight's ball.

"You look great, brother. But, how do you write a letter?" You ask, fixing his hair.

He gasped.

"To whom are you writing this letter?"

Pink came to your cheeks as he questioned you.

"A friend." You say, not showing much emotion.

"If it's Hercules, (y/n), I'm not helping you."

As much as you tried to resist it, a frown came to your face.

"Please, Alexander! I do everything for you. And you know that. Just help me write a letter!" You begged of him, trying not to create a ruckus. You knew Martha would be up here shortly if you did.

"No, (y/n)! He'll cheat on you, rip your heart out." You sighed as a tear fell from your eye. Your older brother looked at you, then quickly turned once he saw a tear. "Go get ready. Mother will be ready soon."

This surprised you- he barely called Martha mom. After loosing your real mother, it was painful for the two of you to call anyone else that.

"O-ok." You said, going to get your (f/c) dress on.
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"Come on, Alexander." You said, peeking your head into his room.

"Hold on, let me finish this sentence." To no surprise, he finished much more than a sentence in the time you allotted.

"Remember when mother died, and what you told me?" You asked, getting nervous.

There was a long pause before your brother replied.

"Possibly. But that was a long time ago, (y/n)."

"You said you'd do anything for me. That you'd always be there for me. Well, here I am, asking you to help me write a letter, Alexander. A letter! You're excellent at writing. It's just a letter. Please, Alexander."

Tears stung your eyes. They stung his, too.

"Let's go. We'll be late." Alexander said, standing up and wiping his eyes.

The two of you headed downstairs and in the carriage.
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"If you can marry a sister, you're rich son." Aaron Burr was talking to Alexander. You rolled your eyes.

"Is it a question of if, Burr, or which one?" You scoffed at your brother's response. "What?" They both asked you.

"You shouldn't marry someone for their money. You should marry someone because you love each other. Not that my brother would know anything about love. All he does is write."

Burr chuckled at you, while Alexander went red.

You laughed at him. Burr went to socialize while Alexander angrily turned towards you.

"Keep your moth shut." He said, going into mean older brother mode.

"No! You aren't the boss of me. I'm just saying what's true. Washington would agree with me." You say, turning around. However, you turned back. "How do you write like you're running out of time? Are you running out of time?"

You leave without a response.

As you make your way across the room, you bump into someone.

"Oh, Hercules!" You say, blushing.

"Hi, (y/n).'' He said.

The two of you talk for a while, until the orchestra plays a slow song.

"W-would you like to dance?" He nervously asks, sticking his hand out.

You nod and take it.

You two sweep the ballroom gracefully- almost as gracefully as Alexander and Eliza. Alexander shot glares towards Hercules.

"If looks could kill, I'd be dead before the redcoats catch me." Hercules joked. You laughed.

"Oh, don't say that. He's just being overprotective."
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Unfortunately, the night comes to an end.

"Did you two enjoy yourselves?" George asked, walking out with Martha. You nodded and Alexander smiles.

"You two must be tired, you're usually talking your heads off!" Martha comments.

Right before you get to the carriage, Hercules comes running towards you.

"Hercules!" You say, surprised. You tuck some loose (h/c) hair behind your ear.

George raises an eyebrow, and Alexander steps in the carriage.

"Um, Mr. Washington, sir. I was wondering if it would be alright if I courted your daughter?" He asked. Your eyes lit up and you smiled.

George looked down at you, and saw how happy you were. With a sigh, he responded.

"You have my permission."
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I'm just like this chapter short, crappy, and boring.

Get it? No? Ok.

Bye dears.