A Night To Remember | Ch. 1

Wait for it

I AM THE ONE THING IN LIFE I CAN CONTROLLLLL I AM INIMITABLE I AM AN ORIGINALLLLLL

ok seriously I’m working on a soulmate au rn, HOPEFULLY it’ll be out by tonight

NGL I would like to hear Alexander's thoughts on the reader dating Thomas 😭 and also I need a chapter where they get married or something. I just need everyone's opinion on it or the future. Maybe both😭😭(if you wanna I just like the idea in general)

Since you’re so kind 😉:

“I refuse to believe this is true.” Alex muttered darkly, glaring at Thomas’s hand draped around your waist. You finally got the courage to bring invite everyone over (as long as Thomas promised to behave himself): the ‘hamilsquad’, Burr, Madison, and the sisters of course.

“Truth hurts.” You shrugged. Thomas gave you a smirk as you leaned into him, a sly smile creeping on your face.

“I don’t get what you see in him,” he huffed, crossing his arms. John appeared by his side, an equally distraught expression on his face.

“Honestly? I don’t either,” you joked, causing Thomas to gasp and playfully push you.

“You don’t mean that,” he grins. You grin back.

“Course not, sweetheart.” You tease. He rolled his eyes, enjoying the fact that Alexander was crumbling in front of him with disgust, despair, and pure rage.

“Seabury doesn’t sound too bad right about now,” John murmured, him and Alex walking off in a swirl of horror and exhaustion.

Will you be making a pt 2 for high and dry ?

Yes it is in the works rn 🫶🫶

insanely real

the dread i feel each time i remember i won’t ever in the peak of the hamilton fandom when the obc was still touring and fandom culture was at its peak peak like you guys are SO lucky that era looks so much fun and each time i see an obc backstage video i simply can not watch like it brings me horrid nostalgia cause i wasn’t able to participate

lord what I’d give to be in the hamilton fandom in 2016-2018

Hey, roomie! ch. 9

thomas j. x reader

Warnings: swearing, AAAAUUGFFHFHGHHHHH

Wc: 2.5k? I think?

Your master plan backfires, cue the crying.

Notes: I think I’m gonna write one more chapter after this and be done, enjoy

Equipped with the new realization that you have a crush and that crush may like you back, you didn’t know how to feel.

You had a date lined up tomorrow night with Samuel who was turning out to be a really pleasant guy, and you couldn’t just ditch him. You were in too deep, and now you have to crawl out of the hole that kept digging itself deeper and deeper.

Options were limited. You could either ditch Samuel for Thomas and confess as soon as possible, or you could show up and let Samuel down gently. Tell him nicely during the dinner that you weren’t feeling it, and you would prefer to stay friends more than anything.

You figured the latter was the safer option. And maybe you wanted to see if Thomas would get jealous.

It was all so obvious to you now. The flirting, the kiss, the pet names, the lingering stares and touches. All of it meant something to you at least. A nagging thought in the back of your mind kept whispering that was just who he is, and if he really liked you then he would tell you himself.

He is a natural flirt, after all. And he does sleep with women on a regular basis, although he’s slowed it down, and come to think of it he hasn’t brought anyone back in a couple months.

What didn’t make sense to you is why would he help you get a boyfriend if he (maybe) liked you? He offered to give you advice, and he watched you walk up to guys to be their potential lover. Would that not hurt? Or did he not like you then and start liking you sooner?

Did he even like you in the first place?

Lafayette didn’t give you a clear answer. All he gave was a hint for you to solve this puzzle by your lonesome. You just assumed that the man you’ve been secretly pining for has secretly been pining for you as well.

You rushed home from Lafayette's apartment building, no clear goal in mind. Your heart was racing and hands were shaking at the thought of seeing Thomas.

The drive home was spent procrastinating as much as possible. In fact, you made a stop at Target to shop for yourself and pick up some things you know he likes. Try and butter him up a little, y’know?

While picking up ingredients for macaroni and cheese, a philosophy book he's been itching to read, and a pint of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream, you thought about the advice he had given you. Be a better listener, be polite, be authentic, be confident, and compliment him.

You wondered if you tried those tactics on him, would he fall for you?

No other way of knowing then to do it, you decided. If you were subtle enough, you could pull this off. You totally could.

—

Lafayette called Thomas the moment you exited his apartment. Neither would ever tell you that, of course, but he still had to fill in his friend on what went down.

He didn’t say that he told you you’re the only girl Thomas has talked about, but he implied that he merely suggested you both have feelings for each other. Thomas was a little pissed that Lafayette almost said something he shouldn’t have, but in his defense he’s been in the middle of this drama for way too long, and he is sick and tired of it.

So when you got home, Thomas wasn't surprised to see how anxious you were. After having an awakening on your attraction, he’d be having one too. He was surprised that you picked up the things he loves. It was sweet. There weren’t many times you did things like this for him.

“You got stuff for mac ‘n cheese? And you got The Alchemist? Sweetheart, you know me too well,” he grinned, taking the book from the target bag and flipping through the pages.

“Not only that, but I got ice cream.” You pulled out the frozen tub of sugar and milk. His face lit up.

“Am I dying or somethin’? Or do you just really love me?” The words rolled off his tongue so naturally it felt like you really did love him. It made your stomach flutter with excitement, and you couldn’t suppress the smile growing on your lips.

“Just wanted to do something nice.” You shrug, putting away the groceries.

“This is seriously the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you.” He stared down at the book, softness in his voice and an even softer smile.

“Really? You say that as if I just saved you from drowning. Seriously, all I did was buy you some stuff,” you scoff.

He shook his head. “It’s not the items you bought. It’s the fact you remembered and cared enough to buy them for me.”

Your movements slowed. That statement alone made your heart hurt. He was so sincere, no one has ever done this for him before. It made you want to go out and buy the whole world for him if it made him happy.

“…I’m glad you like it,” you say slowly and gently.

His eyes lingered on you a moment more—a different tone to them. They flashed from something darker to adoration to sadness, then back to normal.

It made you second guess your thoughts of going out with Samuel. But then again, you still had no definitive proof that Thomas likes you back. Maybe him and Lafayette were just fucking with you, because why not?

The silence that consumed you was spent choosing your next words carefully. How to break it to him that you were going out tomorrow night with another man. You envisioned how he would react; would he show clear signs of jealousy? Maybe distance himself a little? Be angry or upset?

You hoped for nothing too strong, because you had it all planned out. After going to dinner with Samuel, you’d come home claiming you realized you’ve been in love with Thomas this whole time, and would much rather spend that time with him instead. Then he confesses his undying love for you and you kiss, and you both live happily ever after. The End.

At least, that’s how your fantasy went. Of course you couldn’t control how either Samuel or Thomas would react, and if Thomas would be happy that you bailed on your date to reunite with him. You could only hope.

You cleared your throat, nerves immediately starting up again. “Did I ever tell you about Samuel?”

He was turned around, so you missed the scowl on his face. “No. Is he nice?”

“Yeah. He’s pretty sweet, calls me pretty ‘n whatnot. He’s cute.”

“I’m pretty sweet and cute, too,” he grunts.

“Never said you weren’t, sweetheart,” you laugh, walking around the counter to face him.

“You can’t use my own pet name against me!” He gasps dramatically.

A sickeningly sweet smile crawls on your lips. “All is fair in love and war.” He shook his head, a chuckle escaping his lips and you knew you were about to wipe it off his face from the news about to drop. You bit your lower lip and prepared for battle.

“I uh, have a date with him tomorrow night,” you cleared your throat, the confidence that had built up from the playful banter diminishing. “Thought I should let you know.”

He nodded, avoiding your gaze, and looked like you just punched him in the stomach. “Have fun. Remember what I told you.”

“How could I ever forget your wise wise wisdom?” You attempted to lighten the mood, but he never did laugh.

Instead, he forced a smile that failed to reach his eyes and sucked in a breath. “I told you I was a good teacher, didn’t I?”

“That you did.”

And he walked off, book in hand and mumbling something about how he wanted to go read it. You nodded and let him escape the awkward conversation of your love life. But you couldn’t shake the feeling that what you were doing was wrong. It clearly upset him, and a sick part of you was curious to know if he would be, but now that you have your answer you wish you hadn’t said anything to begin with.

—

The date was only an hour from now. You had already picked out what you were gonna wear. He was taking you to a semi-nice restaurant called the White Stallion and advised you to dress nice.

You were in the middle of doing your hair and makeup, smoothing out any loose baby hairs and touching up mascara. The clock kept ticking as you continued getting ready, ensuring your go-to black dress fit right. It always did. The vanilla-coconut perfume filled your senses, and no matter what you did, you couldn’t help but over think how wrong this is.

You drew in a sharp breath, clipping the necklace on your neck and eventually the earrings, and walked into the living room. Thomas was sitting on the couch, munching on the ice cream you bought him.

He froze when he saw you, his eyes trailing over your outfit. The face he made yesterday when you told him you’d be going on a date with Samuel—the one where he looked like you punched him in the gut and knocked the wind out of him—haunted you. Because it was back, and this time a flicker of sadness flashed in his eyes.

“Do I look okay? Does it look like I’m trying too hard?” You ask, worry furrowed deep in your eyebrows.

“No, you look perfect.”

Now it was your turn to have the wind knocked out of you. The words were a direct elbow, punch, and kick to your stomach. You nodded, thanking him and nervously fidgeting with your hands.

Of course you were going out with another guy. What Lafayette had told you the previous day must’ve meant nothing to you, because if it did, surely you wouldn’t be walking out the door, about to meet up with someone other than Thomas. Then again, he didn’t know about your mastermind plan (it was actually really fucking stupid and had a 99% chance at failure, but you like to think it will work).

Samuel was outside waiting to pick you up. His pale skin flushed completely red when he laid eyes on you, following it up with how beautiful you looked. You thanked him and tried to feel complimented from it, but it didn’t have the same ring to it when Thomas said you looked perfect.

The drive was about fifteen minutes—it was filled with listening to Laufey, Radiohead, and The Cranberries. Male manipulator music, you deemed. But he had good stories and was genuinely interested in what you had to say, which only added to the guilt of knowing you were to reject him later that night.

When you arrived, he informed the hostess of a reservation for two. She led you to the table, and almost immediately a waiter came and set down a basket of bread and butter. The fancy, brown seeded bread, too.

“This is really nice, Samuel, thank you.” You smiled awkwardly. He lit up, a beaming grin on his face.

“Consider it just the first of many,” he winked. Bold.

“Haha, yeah…” you trailed off awkwardly, avoiding his gaze. God, could you be any more obvious? To avoid this issue, you peered into the menu, eyes scanning over the options and their expensive prices.

He must’ve noticed the shift in your demeanor, because his smile faltered slightly. It was back when the same waiter from before asked for drinks and your order.

You ordered the cheapest thing and a water, and didn’t pay much attention to what Samuel got. You had to prepare yourself for the heart-wrenching news you would eventually tell him.

Wow, this would be harder than you thought.

The end of the night came around. Too slowly, you thought, but it happened. And in the events leading up to it, you felt like a bigger and bigger dick. Every compliment replied with a fake laugh just made you want to rip your heart out.

You split the bill since there was no way in hell you’d let him pay for all of that, even if he insisted that he should pay. You were about to tell him outside his car, but figured it would be better to wait til he dropped you off at your place to save for an awkward ride.

But that would be too easy, wouldn’t it?

“Do you maybe want to go back to mine?” He asked, a twinkle of heat in his eyes as his hands gripped the steering wheel.

Fuck.

“Ah—Sam, I…” you winced.

“We don’t have to, I’m sorry for asking,” he added quickly.

“Sam, as nice as you are—and trust me, you are—I think we would be better friends than anything.”

He paused. “Ouch, okay,” he breathed out. “If that’s what you want.” A short response, but you didn’t mind. He turned up the radio louder, Paranoid Android blasting from the speakers. The rest of the ride was dead silent. And extremely awkward.

“What made you change your mind?” He broke the silence.

“I’ll answer this truthfully since I feel like you deserve an honest answer,” you sigh. “My roommate, Thomas. I didn’t think I would, but I’ve really grown to like him. Love him, even.” You ramble. He keeps his eyes set on the road and nods.

“I kind of had a sneaking suspicion. The way you talked of him…it was so fond. I knew there was no way you hadn’t had some sort of attraction to him.” He turns into your apartment building parking lot.

“Was it that obvious..?” You muttered, gathering your purse and stepping out of the car. He laughed out a yes. “Well, either way, thank you for dinner and taking me home. I’m really sorry it had to end this way.”

“It’s quite alright,” he smiled sadly. “Have a good night.”

And with that, he drove off, leaving you stranded in the empty parking lot. You sucked in a breath and headed up the flight of stairs since the elevator has been under maintenance for months now.

Catching your breath and calming your nerves, you unlocked the door and opened it softly. The words you planned to say replayed in your mind over and over, although in the moment you’d likely forget your preparation.

“Thom—“

You froze.

There on the couch, Thomas sat with another woman in his lap, kissing him fiercely. Both were only in their undergarments, and his hands were in places you wished they weren’t.

Thomas unlatched from her with a gasp of surprise, craning his neck to look at you.

“Y/n—“ he started, but you stopped him.

“I’m sorry for intruding. I didn’t know you had…company over.” You croak out, stepping out of the apartment.

You couldn’t stop the flow of tears that burst from your eyes as you hurried downstairs.

You were wrong. He didn’t like you, he was about to fuck another woman, and now you didn’t know what to do.

COOKING SO HARD RN. UPDATE EITHER TONIGHT OR TMR

Hey, roomie! Ch. 4

thomas j. x reader

Thomas invites his friends over, and after a heated argument, Peggy suggests an emotion you didn’t think plausible.

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: some cussin’, Lafayette being lafayette

bro why can I not write anything over 3k words wth 😭😭

“I’m gonna have some friends over tonight,” Thomas states, peeking his head into your room. You looked up from the book you were reading, Can’t Hurt Me, and raised an eyebrow.

“Uh, how many friends?” You asked.

“Only two. They’re nice, I swear,” he reassures after observing the weary look on your face. You let out a small huff when he ultimately shuts the door before you can get another word in.

Things have been different since that night you helped treat his wound. He’s been softer, more careful with his words. He would still flirt shamelessly with you, but the tone in which he did so changed. It went from just spewing out the first words that came to mind to carefully crafted compliments, each one specific to the day. Like when he pointed out how the navy blue sweater you wore matched your personality. An odd thing for him to say, but you thanked him nonetheless.

The shift was very subtle. You had to search for it to notice it (not that you were paying more attention to him or anything, haha), and when you did, you found it in almost every conversation. His hand is almost fully healed now, but he’d likely have a scar when the bandage finally comes off.

You finished your chapter and picked up your phone to check your messages. Peggy had been asking about plans for the weekend, which you still had to get back to her about.

Peggy: we still on for sunday?

You: u know it ;)

She’s been asking for weeks now to go shopping with her for some new clothes, and you’ve been putting it off. Mostly because you don’t have enough money, partially because shopping isn’t really your favorite thing to do, but you know she loves it, so for this one time you’ll suck it up and go with her.

An hour passes by and before you know it, Thomas’s friends occupy the living room. The distinct chatter of an unfamiliar voice wasn’t suppressed from the thin walls that separated your room from the living room.

You endured it at first, but as the night progressed, they just seemed to get louder and louder. A part of you wanted to scream at them to shut up, but you knew that wasn't logical, so you settled on walking out and calmly asking them to tone it down.

When you entered, Thomas immediately lit up at the sight of you, looking ecstatic to introduce you to his friends.

“Y/n! Nice of you to join us,” he laughs, pulling you towards the group before you can protest. That might’ve been the first time you’ve heard him use your name.

“Y/n?” A familiar French voice echoed. Your eyes darted to the source—Lafayette. He was someone you were well acquainted with; with him being close to Alexander and the sisters, you connected through that.

You’ve hung out before with Alexander’s group—John Laurens, Lafayette of course, Hercules Mulligan, and occasionally the sisters. You found him to be quite the charmer; he knew when to fight and when to comfort another soul, which you seriously respect.

“Lafayette! I didn’t know you were coming over.” There was a pleasant surprise that came with this statement. A smile curved on your lips as you moved to give him a hug. The other men, one of them who you did not yet know the name of, watched as you reunited with Lafayette.

“Zis is a surprise to me too, mon ami. When he said he was rooming with Y/n I didn’t realize it was you.” He pulled away from you but kept an arm on your shoulder.

“I’m sorry, how do you two know each other?” Thomas cleared his throat, his eyebrows furrowed as he glanced between you and Lafayette. More specifically to Laf’s hand placement.

“Mutual friends, but we’ve been hanging out more,” you reply. He nods, an indiscernible look on his face.

Your eyes caught the dark headed man who sat idly on the couch, a quiet demeanor about him. He wore a light gray Nike sweater with basic blue jeans, and a simple dog tag necklace. Despite his easily observable introvertism, he held himself with confidence. Almost like he knew he was a hard motherfucker. He had amusement in his eyes when they caught yours.

“…Anyway, this is James. James, this is Y/n,” Thomas said. You smiled and stuck out your hand for him to shake.

“Pleasure to meet you.” James grinned politely.

“Always nice to meet people who identify closely with Thomas,” you teased. Jefferson rolled his eyes.

“We’ve heard a lot about you, ami,” Lafayette snickers, a mischievous smile curled on his face. Thomas shoots him a look as if to tell him to quiet down, but your interest was already piqued. And Lafayette isn’t one to quit talking because someone wants him to.

“Oh yeah? Like what?” You raise an eyebrow and turn to Thomas.

“Just about ’ow p—“

“—Not important,” Thomas cuts Lafayette off, scrambling between you. “Just how fun you are to annoy.”

“And how smart you are,” James speaks up. Your eyebrows fly up in shock. Thomas thinks you’re smart?

“Okay, I only said that because she’s able to keep up with me verbally,” he defends. A scowl is directed to James for betraying him. Madison puts up his hands in defense and chuckles. Thomas can keep his composure, but even you could see the frantic shift in personality.

“Not what it sounded like,” Lafayette said in a sing-song voice. You stifled a giggle, causing Thomas to direct a glare at you now.

“Don’t laugh at me, sweetheart, can’t you see I’m hurtin’ here?” He groans.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you think I’m smart and whatever Laf was gonna say before you so rudely interrupted him.” A playful smile adorns your face.

“Don’t let it get to your head,” he grumbles, averting his eyes from you.

“You should join us,” Laf offers, diminishing any awkward silence that followed Thomas’s last comment. Thank god for outgoing people.

“Oh, I don’t want to intrude. I just came here to,” you pause, remembering you came here to tell them off, “get a glass of water.”

“You wouldn’t be intruding, ami! Your presence is always welcome,” he reassures, putting a gentle grip on your shoulder. Your features soften and you weigh your options. If the other two were okay with it, then maybe you would stick around for a little while, but you don’t want to overstay boys’ night. “Ze boys don’t mind, right boys?” Lafayette turns to Thomas and James with a pout on his face.

“Thomas wouldn’t mind at a—ow!” James starts but Thomas smacks the back of his head.

“No, we don’t mind,” Thomas says.

“Wonderful! You can drink and play Wii sports with us, then,” Lafayette cheers. Thomas’s eyes flicker to the hand that stayed firmly on your shoulder, yet he remains silent.

—

It didn’t take long for you to get tipsy. They kept enticing you to drink as the night progressed, and after so many rounds of Wii bowling, you needed it.

In all your time spent knowing Lafayette, he never mentioned that he is a god at sword fighting. You considered yourself pretty good at that game, but almost immediately after playing against him, he had your Mii wiped out into the water. He demolished Thomas and James as well, and eventually you ruled that game off limits because he was so cracked at it.

James, quiet as he is, somehow managed to get four hole-in-ones at golf. Maybe he practiced often, or maybe he was just fucking weird, but that man was freakishly good at golf.

Thomas was bragging earlier about how he was the ‘King of Bowling.’ After playing against him for a few rounds, you realized why. The strikes he managed to cultivate piled up, at one point he had a streak going. After each bowl he would rub it in your face how much better he is, to which you kindly suggested that he suck a dick.

You, on the other hand, vanquished them in power cruising and table tennis. Basically, whatever they lacked in, you came out victorious. You found yourself having more fun than you thought you would, especially since it was Thomas you were hanging out with. James wasn't bad, in fact, under any other circumstances you would consider being his friend. Lafayette was great as always, and you stuck close to him throughout the night.

After playing every possible Wii Sports Resort game, you sat in the living room just chatting.

Thomas was across from you with James next to him, and you sat leg-to-leg with Laf. He kept an arm draped around your shoulder in a friendly manner. The conversation darted from one topic to the next, but currently the main idea was college stories.

“What about that time you got pepper sprayed in college?” James asked Thomas, a devilish smirk on his face. You let out a gasp and Lafayette started laughing loudly.

“Okay—it’s not what it sounds like,” he addresses your signal of distress, “I was walking to a frat party and using a shortcut which happened to be through the bushes, so when I emerged she screamed and immediately pepper sprayed me.” He elucidates.

A wave of laughter swept over the group, and your stomach started hurting the more he tried to explain himself. You know he's not a bad guy and wouldn’t do anything like that, but the stressed tone and look on his face was too much to not laugh at.

“Didn’t she have to help you find the bathroom so you could wash your eyes?” James said through fits of giggles.

“How else was I supposed to find it? I was blinded for fucks sake!” He groans, throwing his head back.

This recalling led Lafayette to go on about how he got beer thrown at him in a bar. “All I’m saying is I wasn't wrong, his political views of France were incorrect and I politely pointed that out.” His French accent seeped through his words.

You giggled, leaning into his chest as his arm tightened around you. You didn’t catch the way Thomas’s jaw clenched.

“Must’ve been not polite enough if you got beer thrown at you,” you said with a smug grin. He rolled his eyes playfully.

“What I said was not important, okay?”

“Sure, sure, because you’re never in the wrong ever. Like that one time with Alex when you were playing rock paper scissors and lost but—“

“I did not lose! What is paper going to do to a rock in a real life situation, huh? Ze rock will grind up ze paper and therefore I win!” He cuts you off to loudly defend his stupidity.

“That’s not how it works!” You laugh, pushing him playfully. James was watching this whole ordeal with amusement, a wide grin on his face.

“Okay, uh, it’s getting late guys. How about we call it a night?” Thomas chimes in, checking his phone.

“It’s only 10:32,” you reply with furrowed eyebrows. He swallows thickly, seeming like he just bit back venomous words.

“Non, non, he is right chérie. We should be leaving,” Lafayette assured you. He seemed to be picking up the hint that Thomas was not happy, and when he realized he still had his arm around you, he pulled it off. Lafayette and James stood, saying their goodbyes before leaving.

“Dude. Why did you make them leave early? We were having fun,” you huff. A muscle flickered in Thomas’s jaw.

“Just ‘cause, okay? Don’t push it, god,” he snaps. You stare at him, anger building up in your stomach, waiting to be released.

“The fuck? What crawled up your ass?”

“Jesus—can you just accept the fact that we’re all tired and it was time for them to go? Why do you have to keep instigating shit?” He erupted. Your eyes widen in shock and your mouth hangs open until you regain composure.

“No, you’re tired. Lafayette, James and I were fine. Great, even! Til you fucking decided that it has to end because you want it to!” You accused, pointing a finger and shoving it into his chest.

“Sweetheart,” he said calmly, his voice low. The switch from shouting to stillness in his voice was violent; it scared you. Your finger dropped from his chest and you took a step back. “Let’s end it here and go to sleep. Goodnight.”

And with that, he left. He left you wondering what got him so riled up. And the way he said ‘sweetheart’ was cold, it didn’t send that fluttery feeling into your stomach like it normally does. It was harsh. You wanted to scream at him and run in and fight him; but you didn’t.

You sighed angrily and retreated to your room, fists still clenched with resentment.

—

“I don’t know why he’s acting this way, Peggy. He was actually being sweet to me, but it seems like the moment I met his friends, he switched up.” You complained to your friend, hauling around the bags of clothes she bought.

“How was he yesterday? Usually men just need some space to cool down after an argument like that,” She said. The ordeal happened Friday night, and you were shopping with Peggy on Sunday. On Saturday, he did his best to avoid you, ignoring you when in the same room and responding in short, one word answers.

“He’s been cold. Distant. Yesterday he gave me the silent treatment,” you scoffed. “Like seriously, what is he, twelve? Since when was he incapable of having adult conversations and talking things out?”

“Maybe he doesn’t know what he’s feeling. He could still be processing his thoughts, and it might be a lot for him to try and process yours, too. Let alone voice his in a convo.” She suggests.

This was another reason you love Peggy so much. She always challenged your words like a true friend would. She didn’t just mindlessly agree to everything you were saying, no, she forced you to think about your words or actions and reflect. She really did make you a better person just by being in your life.

“Hm. I guess that could be possible. What should I do, then?”

“Give him time. From what you’ve told me, it sounds like he’s jealous, so I would just show him you don’t mean anything more than friendship with Lafayette.” She expands.

“Wait wait wait—what? Jealous?” You stutter, stopping dead in your tracks. Some people walking behind you side eyed you after you brake-checked them.

“Yeah? He sounds like he’s jealous because you’re close with Lafayette. Don’t you like Jefferson, anyway? Why are you so shocked?” She gives you a confused look.

“Whoa, whoa, who said anything about liking Thomas? He is not someone I am attracted to.” You furrow your eyebrows, continuing to walk with a deep frown on your face.

“It seems like you do. You talk about him a lot, I just kinda figured you had a crush on him or something.” She shrugged.

“A crush, ha! You’re funny.”

“I’m being serious. Every time I talk to you, you always somehow bring him up. Oh, Thomas did this, Thomas said that, y’know? It gets to a point…” She trails off.

This genuinely came as a shock to you. It didn’t ever occur that when you complain about Thomas, others might take it the wrong way and assume your attraction for him.

“I can assure you, Thomas is the last person I would ever like,” you say. That's one thing you’re certain of. Right?

hey twin omg I just showed ur Lauren’s fic to a friend and she’s reading it rn 😊 I HAVVVEEE to promote my fav writer ofc’!!

This is so sweet thank you 😭😭 it’s still crazy to me how people actually enjoy my writing

Just so you know I WILL be waiting for whatever other works you work on‼️

Okayy 😭😭 I started a one shot yesterday and I’ll maybe finish it, I’m just trying to plan out ideas rn tbh (unless anyone has requests 😻😻)

High and Dry | ch. 2

thomas j. x reader

Warnings: swearing, overuse of italics, title drop (shit was NOT tough at all pls don’t judge me too hard)

Wc: 2.7k

Holy moly this took longer than expected

EDIT: LESLIE ODOM JR RETURNING TO HAMILTON??? HELLO??!????

Out of everyone Thomas anticipated to be working with, you were the last on his list. He didn’t think he’d ever see you again after what happened in high school.

He had been best friends with you since birth, two peas in a pod. You did everything together: lost your first tooth, the awkward middle school phase, and the first steps into high school. Where one was, the other wasn't far behind. Near the end of junior year, he had a promising chance at a scholarship for a prestigious university. It’s not like he needed the money anyway, he was already filthy rich and took yearly trips to Paris for fun.

So it was only natural you were jealous of him. At least, that’s how he perceived it. To him, you envied his wealth and intelligence, always making snide remarks or rolling your eyes when he’d talk about being future Valedictorian. It got to a point where he snapped. He ignored you for days. And when you called him out on his chickenshit behavior, he proceeded to list out every reason why you shouldn’t be friends anymore, and ended the most valuable friendship you’ve ever had.

After breaking connections with you, rumors began to spread. There were some smaller ones, like you sleeping together, but that died down pretty quickly. Those were unimportant, everyone knew they were untrue. The biggest one is that you intentionally tried to ruin his chances at the scholarship. His then-girlfriend had told him you reported him for academic dishonesty in all of his work.

Which you didn’t, by the way. But he was convinced you did. He decided to trust someone he’d known for only a few months compared to the person he’s been attached at the hip to since diapers. It’s not like they stayed together, either. Two months later they called it quits. Something about her cheating on him with the Basketball captain. Once he successfully got half the grade turned on you, he randomly packed up and left for France—for good this time. He abandoned you in a difficult situation which you couldn’t do shit about; he left you high and dry.

It broke you.

He was supposed to be the one who helped you when times were rough, not the one who brought you down. And yet he did. He betrayed any ounce of trust you had, and you endured a year-and-a-half of whispers and stares in the hallway, lingering eyes, and petty comments.

“I can’t believe it’s him, of all people,” you groaned.

Alex gave you a sympathetic look, putting down the papers he had in his hands. You told him what happened to an extent. He would never know the full story, mostly because you’re bad at opening up and you’ve only just met him yesterday, but he was aware there was bad blood between you and Jefferson.

“He didn’t even want to be an English teacher! He wanted to be a lawyer! So why is he here?” A huff escaped your chest, built up from years of undiscussed trauma.

“I’ve been asking that for years, trust me. Waltzing in like he owns the place and stealing my friends,” he scoffed.

“God—how did I not realize… I should’ve known he would be out to get me. One final ‘fuck you’ by being my partner for the entire year.” You shook your head, a defeated slump in your shoulders.

“He doesn’t have to win this battle, y’know,” Alex hummed. You quirked an eyebrow, signaling for him to go on. “Just be petty, he hates that. He’s pretty obsessed with this one specific parking spot—the one under the tree. Where there’s the most shade,” his eye twitched, “I’d know because I parked there one time, and the whole day he was after me. The next morning, he was there 30 minutes earlier than normal.”

“Sounds like something he’d do,” you nodded. “That parking spot will be mine. I will do literally anything if it means pissing off a man.”

A devilish grin spread on Alexander’s face. “I’m so glad you hate him as much as I do, if not more. I swear, he’s been terrorizing this school for years. It’s about time he gets what’s coming!”

“I don’t even know how I’m gonna be able to talk to him every day. Let alone look at him. And why is it required for us to collaborate on lesson plans? That’s so stupid,” you grunted, rolling your eyes.

“I know, I’m not happy about it either,” he empathized with the struggle, “but it’s because you’re both Honors English teachers, and all freshmen are supposed to be learning the same thing. Prepare for state testing and whatnot.”

You grumbled under your breath about how stupid it was. For another 20 minutes or so, you went back and forth about stories regarding Jefferson. Spoiler: none of them were good. It’s like somehow your mind blanked, and you couldn’t think of a single positive experience with Thomas. Between you and Hamilton, he was a symbol of evil, something you could bond over. Was your friendship entirely fueled by hatred? No, of course not. But it was a strong part of it.

Although something about being unjust to Thomas because of the past struck you as immoral.

There was a side of you screaming to forgive and forget, but with everything going on in your life, how could you? It seemed like every relationship you had was fucked. You’d barely speak to your mother, only when the ward called, and you had basically no friends (Hamilton is still under examination.)

But there’s nothing like the taste of sweet sweet revenge, right?

—

“She’s still pissed about it, James. It’s been years, I don’t know why she hasn’t gotten over it yet,” Thomas scrunched his nose in disgust, a scowl creeping on his face as he laminated posters for James Madison’s classroom.

“That sucks, man. You talk to her today at all?” James went through the repetitive motion of cutting excess laminated paper, listening to Jefferson talk about you.

“Hell no. She won’t even look in my direction when I pass by her. If she wants to be immature—“ Thomas drew in a sharp, frustrated breath. “She can go ahead. I’m perfectly fine bein’ the bigger person.”

James coughed before nodding in agreement. “Don’t let her stop you from having a good year,” he warned. “She’ll come around eventually.”

“Yeah, well she doesn’t seem too keen on forgiveness anytime soon,” Thomas scoffed, “I don’t think she ever will.”

There was a long falter in his motions. The longer he thought about it, about you, the guiltier he felt. Despite the desperate attempts in trying to convince himself he wasn’t wrong, wasn't a bad person, he still felt immense shame when you popped in his mind. He hurt you. He knew that. But he moved to France and forced himself to forget about you. Facing you was a whole other dilemma; all it did was resurface the shrouds of guilt that haunted him in Junior year.

By the time college rolled around, the remorse had controlled itself, only manifesting in the back of his mind when he said anything fucked up. But he didn’t plan on seeing you again, no.

“You just have to give her time. Women will be dramatic, Thomas, we both know that,” James laughed a little.

Jefferson let out an uncomfortable chuckle, going back to the mundane task of helping Madison make posters. He hated the statement of you being some dramatic woman when he knew you were so much more than that. He wanted to scream at James for even suggesting that. Against every ounce of anger he felt, he missed you. He missed the adventures you’d go on, he longed for the sound of your laughter again, to see you smile because of him rather than someone else.

He missed his best friend.

And here you were, the nerdy girl who wore bulky sweatshirts, all grown up. He couldn’t deny how beautiful you matured. It wasn’t weird to think that; it was a simple observation. You’re attractive, nothing wrong with him acknowledging it. That doesn’t mean he has to automatically like you.

“I suppose,” he sighed. “She’s gettin’ all buddy-buddy with Hamilton, though. Not too excited about that. Hamilton is a shit influence.”

“True. I bet he’s gonna manipulate her into believing you’re the most horrible, evil villain ever.”

“She already does,” Thomas barked out a bitter laugh. “He doesn’t have to do anythin’.”

“But he will.” James gave him a pointed look.

Thomas’s lips quirked downwards. “Yeah. He will.”

—

The door to your classroom flung open, and a mildly pissed-off Jefferson walked in. He gripped his bag so tightly his veins strained, and the coffee he held looked like it would burst at any second.

“We have to make lesson plans for the week,” he grumbled, setting his bag down and taking out his laptop.

You quirked an eyebrow, examining his actions of pulling up a chair next to your desk. “And we have to do this together…? Right now?”

“Yes. Right now,” he said through gritted teeth. His jaw clenched as he opened his laptop.

You scoffed, crossing your arms. He was acting all pissy for no reason, and you were having a rather pleasant morning, having snagged a parking spot in the shade. You even treated yourself to an iced coffee. “What crawled up your ass?”

“Someone took my spot, that’s what crawled up my ass,” he spat.

“What, the one under the tree?” You smirked. His eyes immediately snapped to yours. A sickening grin spread further across your features, relishing in his anger from one simple action. He narrowed his eyes, scanning your appearance at how much you changed in the time not spent together.

His nostrils flared. “You must’ve gotten here early to steal that from me. Already tryin’ to piss me off, L/n?”

“Bold of you to assume I care that much about you.”

Thomas couldn’t deny the slight sting that went with your words. He stiffened, irritation bubbling in his chest. “You’re right, we both know you don’t care about anyone but yourself.”

“Yeah? Is that why you destroyed my reputation then left me for France?” You cocked your head to the side.

Thomas winced at the memory, hating the fact you were still stuck on it. An exhausted sigh left him, and he ran a hand over his face. He knew anything he said wouldn’t make it right. Healing is a gradual process. You both knew that. So why is it that after years of what he thought was healing, it still pained him to think about it?

“That was years ago,” he mumbled, “do you have to bring it up now?”

“Figured I might put it out there,” you shrugged, not entirely satisfied with his poor response.

Thomas pursed his lips, fixing his gaze on the screen before him. He didn’t want to talk about it. Not now, not ever. It would hurt less to pretend like it never happened and move on. A long, tense silence filled the air, so thick you could cut it with a knife. He slumped in his chair, an uncomfortable frown stuck on his face. “We need to be workin’, not arguing.”

You stared at him a moment longer. Was he seriously brushing this off? Was he for real about to ignore the years of pain and suffering you went through because of him?

“Whatever,” you grunted. There was no point in trying to fight him on this. You knew how stubborn and defensive he could be. “What do you normally do for your students at the beginning of the year? I can’t imagine it’s anything fun.”

He leaned back in the crappy plastic chair, rolling his eyes at your petty comment. “I go over the rules, and usually have them write about themselves from a prompt.”

A thin line formed on your lips. “You give them work on the first day? Asshole…” you grumbled.

“Fuck off, they get rowdy if we play games,” he laughed airily. For a split second, it felt good to hear the sound of his laughter again. Then you remembered why you hadn’t heard it in so long.

“Rowdy because they’re having fun,” you gave him a pointed look. “It never hurt anyone to feel joy once in a while. You should try it sometime.” A wide, teasing smirk grew on your face again.

Thomas so desperately wanted to wipe that smugness off your pretty little face. “Have you ever been told how insufferable you are?”

“Only by you, Thomas, only by you.” You batted your eyelashes in a mocking way, leaning forward to rest your chin in your hands. A flicker of amusement flashed in Thomas’s eyes, and a slow grin spread on his lips. For some odd reason, it made your stomach flutter.

“I’m just sayin’ what the rest of the world is thinking,” he teased. The familiarity of his southern accent brought a wave of nostalgia with it.

“Funny,” you scoffed.

“Awh, no more witty comments?” He tilted his head, an innocent expression on his face.

You raised your eyebrows, not amused by his antics. “You are such a dick, Jefferson. Thought I might remind you of that.” You said, tone flat with a hint of teasing.

He feigned hurt, pressing a hand to his chest. “How dare you, L/n. I am a saint.”

You rolled your eyes. Something was so familiar about the back and forth, playful banter. For a moment it felt like nothing was wrong, it felt like when he was still the first person you’d go to with good news.

“Congratulations for being the first and only person to think that.”

He bit back a chuckle, finding his eyes wandering over you rather than focused on the amount of work he needed to get done. “No need to be jealous because I’m beloved by everyone.”

“‘Beloved’ is an interesting choice,” you mumbled, pulling up some past lesson plans to reference.

“I think it’s an appropriate descriptor for me. That and dashingly handsome,” he snickered. Getting on your nerves was proving to be a success.

“Oh yes, because you’re the epitome of charisma and charm.” A mocking snarl went with your reply. Thomas seemed to be thriving at all the arguing, something that only pissed you off more. Weren’t you supposed to be working on lesson plans?

“I’m glad you finally noticed.”

You scoffed, about to tell him how you’d rather die than classify him as charming, but your phone rang, interrupting your thoughts. A sigh left your lips when you checked the caller ID. It was your mom’s psychiatric ward.

“I have to take this,” you muttered, standing and walking to the hallway for privacy.

Thomas held a concerned frown. He hadn’t seen who the caller was, but he knew it must’ve been something important. Having grown up with you, he met your bipolar mother multiple times, and he knew the troubles that went with it. He witnessed firsthand the pain she caused you, the trauma from her episodes reflecting upon you. And he was there for you throughout it all. So he wasn't at all surprised when he heard the word “mom” come out in a distressed tone.

A couple minutes later, you entered again, silently slipping into your seat. Your whole demeanor changed. What once was feisty was now solemn, as if life had been drained from you, leaving an empty shell of a human. It bothered him, but he knew the best bet was to leave you be, even as much as he wanted to ask what happened. You weren’t on those friendly terms anymore. He didn’t get to comfort you or know anything happening in your life.

Besides, one of the last things you said to him when you split up was “I hope you have a great, successful life, and I hope I never have to hear anything about it.”

The silence was deafening.

It was always, always silent in your life.

The silence that came after hearing Thomas talk shit about you for the first time. The silence that came after not getting to explain your side in an argument. The silence of no one understanding what you’re going through, and the one person you had decided his life would be better without you in it. And what could you do other than play along? Put on a facade of rivalry, go-with-the-flow mentality and tough it out?

The silence was killing you. It would’ve been better if he said something. Anything. Even if it meant aggravating you.

And yet he sat there, motionless, wordless, silent; leaving you wondering what he was thinking.