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hamiltonells · 21 days

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ALWAYS ~ JUDE BELLINGHAM

[sort of based of this request! so thank you for request. please let me know what you think! always welcome to criticism, also let me know if you would like a series based or this little family! 🍓]

[SUMMARY: being soon to be parents is hard especially being so young as well, but Jude and y/n takes everything in their stride]

[WARNINGS: fluff, smut, morning sickness? not edited, swearing spelling mistakes? ]

You’re feet shuffled across the cold kitchen flooring as you soothed your bump with one hand and held a tub of Ben and Jerry's ice cream in the other, Your seven -month bump slightly peaking out of Jude’s shirt.

“Are you still okay for tomorrow, beautiful?” Jude’s voice reaches out over the FaceTime call, as you sitback down on the sofa and put the blanket over your bump.

With Jude being in Madrid, it was decided that you would have dinner at his parents' house in England. Due to your frequent travels between England and Madrid, you rarely have the opportunity to spend time with his family, especially with his mother being in the middle.

you placed the laptop on your lap during the ongoing FaceTime call with Jude, “Yeah all good jude, what time is your flight back” your voice grew tired with every sentence you speak.

“flight is about four in the morning will get back home at seven”Jude's voice making you grow even more tired and relaxed.

You knew it was difficult for Jude to balance being at the top of the football world and being a father at just twenty years of age, but he never complained about it once

It was unexpected for you to become pregnant, and it came as a surprise since you are only nineteen and Jude is twenty years old, but you both took it as your little blessing.

"Is my little one okay? It seems like she's wearing Mommy out" Jude's voice echoes through the FaceTime call, "we're okay, just tired and the usual sickness," your voice tiredly drawls out.

Since discovering you were pregnant, you have been experiencing severe nausea, even if it was morning or night It felt like a constant battle to keep any food down, and the smell of certain foods would instantly trigger your gag reflex.

"Plus, we miss daddy a lot," you said "fuck,don't do that voice, it turns me on" he added with a rough accent, you tutted “better hurry up home then”

"I'll be back home shortly, my Love," he said in his gentle Birmingham accent.

you was sound asleep when you heard the keys jingle in the door, the door open and Jude's footsteps slowly and carefully plodding up the stairs.

You hear Jude carefully open the door to the bedroom where you both share. As you shuffle yourself up to sit against the headboard, you reach for the switch to switch on the lamp, and you switch it on.

"What are you doing awake?" Jude's tired voice broke the silence of the room. You turned to see him rubbing his eyes, looking disheveled and exhausted.

"I missed you, heard you trying to be quiet" you admitted "I'm sorry, I just didn't want to disturb you" he replied, a sheepish smile on his face.

"You could never disturb me. I always want to hear your voice." you said softly, Moving to swing your legs out of bed holding your pregnant belly as you trying to ignore the persistent pressure on your bladder.

You sigh, knowing you have to get out of bed to relieve yourself.

“oi what you doing, let me help” Jude’s voice fills your ears, as he rushes to be by your side, you feel a pair of strong arms wrap around you, supporting your weight.

As he presses a soft kiss to your head, Your loving Jude gently helps you out of bed and guides you to the bathroom, making sure you don't trip over your own feet.

Once you’ve emptied your bladder, you get back into bed with a kiss on the cheek from Jude.

You snuggle into the bed sheets, Jude’s bare back now facing you as he’s rambling on about something with his toothbrush in his mouth, you don’t realise your eyes have started to close until you feel the bed dip beside you.

“Sorry baby, didn't mean to wake you again” Jude whispered as he pulled the duvet over the pair of you, with your back facing Jude he slides his arms around you and on to your bump.

"I love you and we both missed you," you murmur softly in response to him, you feel him snuggle into your neck as he presses a soft kiss there.

“hey Jobe”you slightly laugh out his name as he opens the door only to be thrown into a headlock by his own brother, the pair of them shuffling into the living room as they play fight with each other.

You shut the front door and clean your feet on the doormat before untying your shoelaces and removing your shoes.

You enter the living room and see the two brothers sitting on the sofa with a sour expression and Denise giving them a look.

"Y/n, lovely seeing you again” Denise greets you warmly as she glances up and sees you standing in the doorway “you look amazing, not long left now” she hugs you as you smile and look down, “thank you Denise” you gushed as you sat in between Jude and Jobe.

“only a couple more months left, did Jude show you the scan pictures” you continued.

"Yeah, he did," she replied with a smile. "They're amazing, aren't they? I can't believe how much the baby has grown already."

"I know, it's incredible," you said, excitement evident in your voice. "I can't wait to meet him or her."

"As long as they don't look like Jude, they will be alright" Jobe joked “You’re literally like a mini Jude, Jobe” You laughed as you put your hand onto Jude’s thigh.

“It's nice to know that I can actually grow a beard at the moment" Jude mumbles to himself, but loud enough so that Jobe can hear, "you call that a beard" Jobe laughs as he’s dodging Jude's kick.

As Denise calls all of you over for dinner, Jude gets up first to assist you up, putting one hand on your back as he guides you over to the dinner table, he sits next to you his hand on your thigh.

Mark, Jude’s dad is sat across from you, making slight conversation as you start eating your food.

As you took another bite of your food, your stomach churned you felt a wave of nausea wash over you, you reach out to take a sip of your water to hopefully wash it down.

But as the night went on, the feeling only got worse, your hand went straight over your mouth mumbling your apologies as you rush through the house to get to the bathroom.

He trails behind you, apologizing to his family before heading to the bathroom to assist you, gently rubbing circles on your back as you lean over the toilet, feeling him gather your hair up in his hands.

“you okay baby?” His voice soothing you, you lean back into him breathless as the embarrassment washes over you.

”Jude, I am deeply embarrassed. Your mother and your entire family are under the impression that I became sick because of the meal she cooked.“You convey your concern by covering your face with your hands.

“she doesn’t think that, don’t be stupid they know your struggling with your pregnancy” Jude tries to calm your down by wrapping his arms around your shoulders as you both sit in the bathroom floor.

“You okay y/n?” Denise’s worried voice makes you look up, as you see her standing in the doorway “she’s okay mum, bit tired though I think” Jude answers for you as he puts a strand of hair behind your ear.

"I'll set up Jude's room for you both, and maybe it'll be best if you stay overnight, I'll bring some lemonade up to help it helped my morning sickness with Jobe" Denise smiles at you .

In a pair of shorts and an old shirt, you lay on the bed of Jude's old bedroom, covered in the familiar smell of his old clothes.

Jude is right next to you, scrolling through his phone on his lap with his hand on your inner thigh as he softly squeezes it, as he as he speaks with Jobe who is laying across the end of the bed, who is also scrolling on his phone.

"How much longer do you have left?" Jobe asks quietly as you open your eyes to his voice. "Just a little over a month, why are you excited, Uncle Jobe?" you playfully respond.

he just hums to your question, focusing back on whatever was on his phone.

The next thing you notice is Jude placing his phone on his bedside table, and then shuffles over and settles his head on your chest while his hands go straight to shirt to lift it up, his hands go to your bump to soothe it.

In your hands, you are gentle touching the ends of his hair gently twisting it and reaching to his scruffy beard gently scratching it as he hums softly to.

When he presses a soft kiss against your bump, your unborn baby gives him a small kick as they responds to his kisses

“Did you feel that?” Jude’s face snaps around to face you as he realizes what has happened “yeah, going to be like there daddy” you smile as you stroke his cheek.

“what? let me feel, move Jude” Jobe says as he rushes to your side and he places his own hand on your bump he pushes Jude's hands away as he presses his own against the bump.

“Jobe, fucking hell it's my kid.” Jude leans down for a for a kiss before getting up and making his way to the bathroom. You giggle as you see Jude's scrunched up face as he gets up and goes to the bathroom.

you’ve just gotten into bed when Jude come in with a glass of water and places it on your bedside table, “mum says goodnight” you hum to answer him while tugging him down to yourself.

"Careful," he laughs as he catches himself on his hands as he's above you, your hands go around his neck as you press a kiss to his lips.

His laughter fades into a soft sigh as he leans in for another kiss, his lips meeting yours once more before he puts his face into your neck and presses a few light kisses.

“You have a good day, baby?” He mumbles into the crook of your neck “the best thank j” you the nickname you call him slides off your tongue easily.

Jude hums“I love you so bloody much”

“I love you more” you giggle even more when be nips your neck.

He seals your lips together once more, using his knees to spread your thighs a bit further apart for him as he spreads them apart.

In the midst of your kiss, he lets out a breathy moan, courtesy of the fingers which are holding his face, interrupting your kiss with a breathy moan.

Jude utilizes the chance to break away and snag a pillow from his side of the bed, urging your hips up by tapping the fluffy thing against your side.

your lift your back up, and he settles it under your lower back and bum to prop you up. Fortunately for him, he has had extensive experience navigating the challenges of your pregnant belly.

he grips your shorts and carefully pulls them off, taking your knickers off and softly pressing a kiss to your thigh in the progress.

Settling between your thighs, Jude giggles when you wraps your legs around his hips and tugs him closer.

Jude’s body hovers over yours , love-sick smiles a breath away from meeting each other, and he drags his fingers through your folds, groaning at how slick you’ve become.

“Oh fuck” you whisper into Jude’s ear, biting back a grin as Jude grips his cock with the fingers that had previously been fondling you.

Jude smiles as their chests are pressed together, enjoying the feeling of their stomachs touching while he guides himself into your slit.

Jude hums appreciatively, eyes fluttering shut as he basks in how warm and gooey you are for him. He'd almost forgotten how it felt to have you this desperate for him and his touch.

“Need to be quiet, Jobe next door” he whispered as a moan ripped though your body.

"Oh it's so good darling," he mumbles to you, dropping his head into the crook of your neck. He made a gentle backward slip, pulling the hips back gently as he slipped forward again, his breath stuttering as he dutifully slipped forward once again.

Guiding him, you softly release a moan, lowering one hand to the lower part of his back. With a whisper that tickles his ear, you affirm, "Jude, So so good." Tickled by the sensation, he squirms slightly and responds with a small laugh.

Jude soft with his movements, cautious of the baby between yourself, "made for being wrapped me huh?" And jude thinks nothing ever been truer.

Your arms were made to hold him, youe hands were made for pulling him closer and closer, and your heart was made to completely consume his.

you reached your high before him, rolling your hips up to try and bring him to the edge, grinding down into your heat as his cock twitches and buries deep in your walls.

Jude knows you’re watching his eyes scrunch shut and his gaping mouth curl into a breathy laugh as he comes “sorry baby, too tired for another one” he breathes into your neck.

As you nod and brush the sweaty spots from his forehead to soothe him and just like that, he is already able to feel lighter. He never has to sorry with you, you’ll always be here for him.

#jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham #trent alexander arnold x reader #trent x reader #football one shot #football imagine #trent alexander arnold #max verstappen x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen smut #charles leclerc x reader #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton x you #lewishamilton #lewis hamilton fanfic #smut

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astralaffairs · 8 months

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hi!! before i go i jus wanna say, I love your work 🙏🏽 and I finally watch hamilton last night so I might write for it as well 😋😋 but i have a drabble idea.

anyways— thomas having a dance/ball for a campaign during the election and he meets aaron’s little sister, mc, who snuck in. and he can’t help but take interests in her.

“Now, what’s a lady like you doin’ getting a drink just for yourself? Nobody’s offered to do that for you yet?”

Y/N froze as her fingers met the stem of the champagne flute. She had promised herself she would stay to the outskirts of the ball, and her only goal for the night had been to avoid courting attention. However, the packed room was warm, and it was only more so at its perimeter under the lights, and the crisp bubbly had looked oh-so-inviting.

She turned with a polite smile as she picked up the glass, but her eyes widened when she saw the man behind her with his gleaming smile and his velvet suit. She recognized him instantly; after all, she’d seen him before, and he’d even been in her home, but they’d never formally met. He raised an eyebrow when her smile faltered. “I’ve only just arrived. I haven’t had a chance to speak to much of anyone just yet.”

“Then I’m gonna have to count myself lucky to have found you when I did. Thomas Jefferson.” He offered her a hand as he introduced himself, and when she took it, he dipped down to press a soft kiss to her knuckles. Her eyes went even wider.

She cleared her throat as he drew himself back up to his full height, still holding her by the fingertips, and it took a moment for it to occur to her to withdraw her hand. “You’re the host of this ball, then, if I’m not mistaken. Thank you for opening your home to us like this.”

“Believe me, sugar, the pleasure’s all mine,” he said. “Who’re you here with? Feel like I’ve seen you around, but I can’t put my finger on it.”

“Oh, um, my family’s here somewhere. I came on my own, though, and I was planning to meet them here.”

“Your family?” He pursed his lips. “You’re not a Schuyler, are you?”

“No, no, certainly not,” she replied before hastily adding, “although the Schuylers are lovely people, of course. To be a part of their family would make one lucky.”

“So you know the Schuylers, then?” he mused, and she nodded. His growing smile was making her mouth go dry. “I know where I recognize you from; you’re a Burr, aren’t you? Aaron’s sister?”

“I am, yes.” Her smile was tense, laced with unease. His grin was bright as he plucked a drink for himself off of the table behind them.

“So why haven’t I seen you at one of these before? Your family trying to keep you locked away from all the politics?” he asked, and as her eyebrows fell, he could see the look in her eyes sour.

“They’ve decided I can’t be trusted at this kind of event,” she said bitterly, and he quirked a brow. “Aaron claims he’s afraid I’ll say the wrong thing and jeopardize his career, but really, I think he just can’t deal with the idea of splitting people’s attention between us.”

“But you finally proved yourself trustworthy?” he asked mildly, taking a sip of his drink, and she shrugged uncomfortably.

“I suppose so.”

“Then where’s your dear brother now, hm? Why aren’t you here with the rest of your family?” He watched her expectantly, and when she didn’t answer right away, his grin broadened. “They don’t even know you’re here, do they?”

“No, and you’re not going to be the one to tell them,” she said sharply, pointing her champagne flute at him. He raised his eyebrows, amused by the fervor in her tone. “I had to walk miles alone in the dark to get here; I am not being thrown out as soon as I arrive.”

“Well, sweetheart, if you’re not with them, then really, I should be sendin’ you on your way.” Despite the threat, his voice was breezy, and she frowned.

“And what do you have to gain from kicking me out?”

“The respect and appreciation of your family,” he suggested blithely. “The knowledge that I’m not leavin’ a young lady to walk home alone ‘n vulnerable at the end of the night. ‘S just the right thing to do, really.”

She eyed his small smile for a moment before slowly asking, “But despite that, you’d rather I stay, wouldn’t you?” He shrugged unabashedly. “You’re quite shameless, aren’t you, Mr. Jefferson?”

“Only on a good day.” He winked as he took a sip of his drink. “After all, you went through all that effort to get here. There’s gotta be a good reason for it, huh?”

“Of course. I’m here to expand my mind just like everyone else," she said, and he raised an eyebrow.

“And not for the charming future president we’ve got roaming the ball?”

“Oh, I wasn’t aware there was one. Let me know if you see him?”

His full laugh proved him undeterred, and Y/N’s self-satisfied smile was reluctant. "'M glad to see you inherited more of the family wit than your brother seemed to."

"Please, don't tell him that. A lady needs to keep some things a secret."

"It'll stay between us, then," Thomas said, "but I don't think I ever got your name."

"Why, so you know whose presence to report to my brother?"

"So I know who to ask after the next time I see him." His response was quick, and it had Y/N on her heels. Her eyes were wide, eyebrows raised, but when she opened her mouth to answer—

"Y/N." Both she and Thomas turned on their heels at the loud voice to find her brother striding across the room toward them, and her groan was unchecked. The fury in Aaron's voice was barely contained. "What in the world do you think you're possibly doing here, sneaking out after dark? How did you even get here?"

"I brought myself, since nobody else was willing to take me," she bit back, and Thomas raised his eyebrows as he took a sip of his drink.

"That wasn't your decision to make," Aaron snapped. "We are a family, and you have to respect that—"

"Respect what? That you have total control over my life in the name of family values? Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?" she asked. "I respect that you have a career and a reputation to maintain, but I am a person, and—"

"And nothing, Y/N. Put the drink down, and leave Mr. Jefferson at peace," he demanded, and Y/N narrowed her eyes, her jaw set. Aaron turned to Thomas, and much of the fire in his voice had subsided when he said, "I'm sorry for her intrusion, Thomas. We didn't know she had followed us here, and we'll send her home at once."

"Now, Aaron, what makes you think she's uninvited company?" Thomas asked, and both Y/N's and Aaron's brows were raised. "Y/N's my guest here this evening; 's the opposite of an intrusion."

He frowned, glancing between Thomas and Y/N. "You mean you're responsible for her presence here tonight?"

"Well, I invited her, so I suppose you could say that," he said casually, and if he winked when he caught Y/N's eye, Aaron didn't think anything of it. Aaron's lips were pursed and his shoulders tense as he glanced between them.

"Why didn't you tell me Thomas had invited you?" he asked Y/N, and she shrugged.

"I didn't think you'd want to hear it, and I didn't want you trying to prevent me from coming."

"If I'd known he asked you to come—"

"So, what, my personhood is dependent on his permission now?"

"Your presence here is, at least."

"As a Burr, I would've been welcome either way."

"Not unattended, however."

"I can attend to myself just fine."

"You know that isn't what I mean when—"

"Aaron, was there somethin' else you needed?" Thomas cut him off, and Aaron's gaze was affronted when it snapped to him. However, he held his tongue. "I was just about to ask Y/N to dance, assuming that's her decision to make 'n all."

Y/N had to bite back her smile at his words, and although Aaron seemed to recognize the challenge in them as his jaw ticked, he said, "Of course. I'm sorry to have interrupted."

"Don't sweat it. Your concern for your sister is awful sweet, even if it isn't needed here," Thomas responded, his smile warm.

"'Concern' isn't how I'd describe it," Y/N muttered bitterly, and Thomas nudged her with his elbow. She frowned.

"Carry on 'n enjoy the rest of the ball, though, and please send my best to your wife," he said. Aaron could only offer a tense smile in response.

“You as well. I suppose I should go find Theodosia.” He looked down skeptically at Y/N. “How are you planning to get home?”

Y/N’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, I…” She hadn’t thought that far, so her gaze was hopeful when it snapped to Thomas, who held her with a hand at the small of her back.

“I’ll arrange for a carriage to take her home,” he promised. “Don’t you worry, Burr. She’s in safe hands.”

“Right,” he said hesitantly, looking Thomas over. “I’ll leave you to it. Don’t do anything stupid, Jefferson.”

“‘S like you don’t even know who you’re talkin’ to,” Thomas said incredulously, and Aaron scoffed.

“I’m sure.” He barely spared them both another glance before departing unceremoniously, shaking his head all the while, and Thomas chuckled. Y/N turned back toward him.

“You’re a regular local hero,” she said sardonically, but the smile in her eyes betrayed her bored tone. Thomas grinned.

“I do try, sweetheart,” he said lightly, “maybe even in a way that deserves a ‘thank you’?”

“Thank you.” Her voice was sincere. “Really. I owe you.”

“Well, if you mean that,” he said, and his eyes were shining as he looked down at her, “I wouldn’t mind making good on that dance I mentioned. Unless you’re in a real rush to get back to your dear old brother.”

He offered her his arm with an eyebrow raised, and she left her empty glass on the table behind them when she took it, drawing a wide grin from him. “How could I say no to our charming host?"

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ell-alexanderarnold · 9 months

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Okay ı have one,trent going f1 with u and he jealous of u for some driver maybe carlos or lewis

Like fluff 💘💘 hope u like it ( i love ur works btw 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼)

I’m yours

Summary: When on the grid, Trent isn’t the only one who’s keeping an eye out for you.

Fluff

Note: Loved this request! And I hope you love this one too, enjoy 🫂 Also I thought about this song :) ⤹

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As a little girl you always sat watching Formula 1 on the tv. It was all so exciting watching the qualifying and of course the race the day after. You were always so blown away by how fast the cars were going and all the things that were going on and off the grid.

And your childhood dream is soon coming true. Trent knows your passion and love for Formula 1, it’s always something you talk about with him. You’ve watched so many races with him and every time you tell him how much you would love to go to one. Little did you know that he planned a big surprise for you in the meantime.

You woke up feeling kisses all over your cheeks and you groaned, annoyed at Trent for waking you up but it was the best thing in the morning.

“Trent I could’ve slept longer!” You complained and put the duvet over your head as Trent chuckled.

“It’s a big day today babe” Trent said as you got up from the bed, half asleep.

“No it isn’t, I have to clean the entire house and then I’ll watch the qualifying until I fall asleep” You chatted and sighed whilst you picked up clothes from the floor to put in the laundry.

“It’s only Saturday Y/n, we can clean when we get home” Trent consoled and you stopped in your tracks, turning around slowly looking at him in confusion.

“Get home from what Trent?” You asked him and he got out of the bed and walked towards you, smiling.

“You know Silverstone is this weekend?” He began.

“Of course I know that..why?” You wondered.

“I have this girl who really likes to watch F1, and I would love to take her to the grand prix with me” Trent revealed and you jumped right into his arms, squealing in excitement.

“Are you taking me to Silverstone!?” You gasped and he nodded watching you being the happiest girl ever, he’d never seen you smile this much.

“We’re leaving tomorrow morning, so you have all day to pack your stuff. Don’t worry about the cleaning, I’ll fix it” Trent assured and you went to find your suitcase, too excited about everything.

You spent the entire day packing and you were in your own little bubble while doing it, making sure you don’t forget anything. The last thing you put in your suitcase is your Mercedes cap, which you know will piss Trent off because he supports Redbull.

He sneeks up behind you and says “Sure you don’t want a Redbull cap?” And you stand up after closing your suitcase, staring at him.

“Yes I’m pretty sure” You answered and he helped you get your suitcase up from the floor.

Later at night you prepared to go to sleep, but it was hard. You were sure that the nerves would keep you awake, and you will only wait until you get to the circuit.

As you were lost in your thoughts while brushing your teeth, you felt his hands around your waist from behind.

“Are you excited for tomorrow, love?” Trent inquired and you laid your hand on his as you nodded, mouth filled with toothpaste.

He carried you to the bed, making you blush with all of his princess treatments. He placed you down and kissed you forehead with his soft pillow lips. Then he slipped into the bed beside you, ran his hands through your hair as you started to feel more tired.

“I love you T, thank you for surprising me. I can’t wait to experience this with you” You said and yawned.

“Anything for my girl, goodnight Y/n” Trent replied and you dozed off, your dream about to come true when you wake in the morning.

You slept surprisingly well although you were full of nerves and excitement the night before. You got up from the bed smiling knowing what’s going to happen today. Your first F1 race, it felt surreal to you and you couldn’t believe that in a few hours you’re standing on the grid with your lover.

Trent was already up, preparing the last things before you two leave.

“Hey babe, did you sleep well?” Trent asked and hugged you once you walked down the stairs.

“Yeah” You simply responded and walked past him to get breakfast for yourself but Trent quickly led you away from the kitchen to the table where he had cooked breakfast for you.

You looked at him in awe and kissed his cheek, “You’re the sweetest person ever!” You exclaimed and then sat down at the table, not wanting to waste any time because you were leaving soon.

—

A few hours later you entered the paddock, there were people everywhere wearing their team’s shirts and of course a lot of media staff taking pictures of your well known boyfriend. You walked beside Trent holding his hand tightly as you were walking down the paddock to get to the Redbull garage.

You were proud to be wearing your Mercedes cap in the Redbull garage even though you felt like everyone was watching you. Trent and you were guided around and a few mechanics told you about the car and Trent met up with Max Verstappen to switch shirts. You stood in the corner watching, trying not to freak out because theres a world champion in front of you. But that wasn’t really the world champion you wanted to meet. Your friends and family is aware of your support for Lewis Hamilton and you couldn’t help but try to find him today.

Max wished Trent good luck for the season he has ahead of him and you two went back to the grid.

“Trent… can we please go into the Mercedes garage?” You asked and hold your hand behind your back, hoping he would do it for you.

“Y/n I really want to go with you but I promised Marcell to follow him to the Ferrari’s. I’ll join you later okay?” He answered and you pouted. He gave you one quick peck on your cheek before running off to his brother.

And there you were on the grid, living your actual childhood dream.

You saw the garage, continuing walking towards it as you started to feel more and more nervous. The race didn’t start until one hour so you had some time to spend in the garage of your favourite team.

You got smiles from the mechanics and looked around your surroundings, it was exactly how you imagined it to be. Until you saw him.

You could see Lewis standing not far from you and you thought that you had not come this far just to look at him so you made your way towards him, trying to get the courage to ask for a photo.

You thought about how Trent would react when he sees the photo, you always dreamt about meeting a driver.

Slowly you tap his shoulder and he turns around with a smile on his face.

“Hi Lewis, can I ask for a photo?” You finally say and took a deep breath, trying not to mess anything up.

“Yes of course, what’s your name?” Lewis responds and you search for your phone in your purse, your hands almost shaking.

“Y/n” You said and smiled as you found your phone and took the picture.

“Y/n, lovely to meet you. Enjoy the race!” He expressed and shot a look at your cap.

“Thank you I will! Good luck” You smiled and noticed how he observed your cap, making you smile even more walking out from the garage to join Trent again.

You met up with Trent and you got to your seats to watch the race. You couldn’t wait for the race to start, and you thought it was more exciting watching it because Max didn’t get pole position as usual.

Trent held your hand as everyone on the track were fixing everything in the last minute, and it was only about time until they started the formation lap.

“You’re ready?” Trent whispered in your ear and it sent shivers down your spine. You looked at him and nodded as he leant in for a quick kiss before your attention was focused on the race.

The checkered flag was waving and the race was over. You can’t believe that you just saw an Formula 1 race. The crowd was cheering, two British boys on the podium, one of them was Lewis which you were the most happy for. Trent was happy with Max winning again and you could do nothing but to roll your eyes at him mocking you as he always does when Redbull wins.

As you and Trent stood by the exit and were preparing to leave, your eyes catches someone else’s eye. You could see Lewis glancing at you and you glanced back, your heart skipped a beat when your eyes made contact. You know you shouldn’t be doing that when you have a boyfriend, but you saw it as just a fun thing not knowing it will come with consequences. You could never forget how kind Lewis was to you and the way he noticed your cap, your inner child was jumping up and down with excitement for sure.

“Hey bro, is it just me or does your bird seem to have something going on with Mr. Hamilton” Marcell noted and Trent looked over at you, seeing that you’re completely lost in your own world with some other guy.

He felt the side of him come through that he knew you didn’t like, jealousy. You’re his, not some kind of driver’s girlfriend.

“Enjoying the view are we?” Trent spoke up and you jumped out of your little bubble turning your face to him as he placed his hand on your hip, marking you as his visibly infront of Lewis.

“What?” You replied, studying the look on his face.

“Oh nothing, we should get going Y/n” He simply said and you two started to walk and you took one last glance of Lewis Hamilton.

You didn’t know exactly what he meant by that comment but you knew that it couldn’t be good. It was something your mind had to think about but you already knew in fact it was painted all over his face, his jealousy.

Because of how far away from home you and Trent were, you decided to stay in a hotel in London for a few days. It was a nice cozy hotel room and a good way to finish your day was to take a shower and then go off to bed.

But as you stood in the bathroom applying your serum you could only think about what Trent said earlier. “Enjoying the view are we?”

Of course you enjoyed the view but what exactly did he meant?

Trent stood beside you and he had just finished brushing his teeth. You watched him in the mirror almost draining himself in his body lotion and you giggled for yourself, but you had to ask him about earlier.

“Hey T” You began as he looked up at you in the mirror.

“Yeah”

“You know when we were about to leave and you said that I was enjoying the view” You mentioned and he hummed in response.

“What did you mean by that?” You continued and met his eyes through the mirror.

“Someone couldn’t take their eyes off of Sir Lewis” He shrugged and you held yourself back from laughing, you found it so funny.

“Trent you’re joking right?” You chuckled and smiled as he rolled his eyes.

“I just didn’t like the way he looked at you” He told you and then walked up behind you, kissing your neck.

“You’re mine and mine only.” He whispered against your neck and it made you forget all about Lewis in one second. You leaned your head back, allowing him to kiss you all over your neck.

“So you were jealous?” You asked and he chuckled because he know you could read him well in those moments.

“I was” He admitted and you two walked out of the bathroom, both tired and just wanted to sleep.

As you laid down with him you thought whatever happens, if you see a cute man on a night out or if a guy comes up to you in the club, or in this case if a Formula 1 driver likes to have some sort of staring contest with you, no matter what you know who you belong to. You know that no one can love you like Trent do and in that way, you’re gonna forget about the little tension you and Lewis had.

“Trent, you know I’m yours right?” You soothed and cupped his face.

“I know you are Y/n” He murmured.

“And you’re mine” You added.

“Is that so?” Trent teased and you started laughing and he flipped you over so that you were lying on top of his chest and you eventually fell asleep, with a head full of dreams and a loving boyfriend who you know is going to stick around for a long time.

#trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold x reader #england x reader #footballer x reader #trent alexander arnold fluff #trent imagine #trent x reader #football imagine #trent alexander arnold fic #trent alexander arnold imagines #trent alexander arnold fanfic #trent alexander arnold one shot #trent x lewis #lewis hamilton x reader

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icarusbetide · 28 days

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this miniature portrait of hamilton, apparently done on january 11 1773 (16th birthday present, if we're going by 1757, perhaps? from who?) makes me laugh because he looks so young. in just 2-3 years he would join the new york militia, and then fight in the continental army and meet george washington. you know that anecdote about how a soldier saw hamilton's company and went "wtf is this skinny kid doing here" only to learn that he was the captain? that makes a lot more sense now.

he came to america in 1772, so this means he would've looked even younger when he was actually on st. croix, bossing everyone around at cruger's firm. can you imagine being a sea captain or business associate and getting reprimanded by an even smaller version of this dork? jesus christ it must have been a nightmare to work with him.

#look at that haircut #he got the short bang ponytail combo #i want to know if hamilton kept this miniature himself #because if so i can imagine elizabeth teasing him about it #their version of looking at highschool yearbooks actually #since betsey showed him her drawings #alexander hamilton #historical hamilton #amrev

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f1daydreamers · 1 year

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𝐟𝟏𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐬' 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

WELCOME to my page, I actually created this Tumblr account 3 years ago and never used it, I recently found it but rather than deleting it, I figured I’d ‘recycle’ it and just use it as a page dedicated to fanfics.

REQUESTS are open and you may submit your own asks but read below to see what I write, don’t write and also what I do not tolerate on my page. I only write for a specific set of people, again, read below to see who they are. Suspense lol.

…

Rules for Requests

My content will NOT cover topics such as smut, sexual assault, incest, violence, abuse, disabilities, or self-harm. I also avoid including any suggestive references to blood or weapon fetishes in my work.

I ALSO don’t write driver x driver or footballer x footballer, and not many works, if any at all, will take a male readers’ perspective.

…

The drivers I write for currently are: Lando Norris, Max Verstappen, Lewis Hamilton, Oscar Piastri, Mick Schumacher, Charles Leclerc, and Alex Albon.

The footballers I write for currently are: Trent Alexander-Arnold, Jude Bellingham, and Declan Rice. (Such a variety ik)

…

𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚 𝟏

Charles Leclerc:

- A Dulcet Evening ~ You and Charles have a few weeks to yourselves before Baku, it’s Friday and you go to pull him off of the simulator when you instead see him playing the piano.

Lance Stroll:

- A Weekend or Two: Completed

Summary: Asking the driver of the team you work for to attend a wedding with you as your fake date is possibly one of the dumbest ideas you've had ever.. but also one of the best.

• Part 1

• Part 2

• Part 3

• Part 4

• Part 5

• Part 6

• Part 7

• Part 8

Oscar Piastri:

- My Muse ~ Oscar is a visitor at your first art exhibition - not exactly his scene - but it’s one that he contributed to financially to help you out, an upcoming artist he’s taken a bit of a liking to.

Max Verstappen:

- Rain Now Run ~ Being caught in the rain without an umbrella isn’t fun, but when you’re with Max? Fuck it.

- Expanding Our Horizons ~ Seeing your boyfriend play with his nephews stirs emotions inside of you. While it may be the first time you and Max have acknowledged it, it may also be the last.

Lando Norris:

- Remnants: Ongoing

Summary: To say you weren't the biggest fan of Lando Norris was an understatement, but you also happened to underestimate just how willing the man was to prove to you that he'd changed.

• Part 1

• Part 2

• Part 3

…

𝐅𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥

Trent Alexander-Arnold:

~ Coming soon!

Jude Bellingham:

~ Coming soon!

#f1 masterlist #lando norris #max verstappen #lewis hamilton #charles leclerc #alex albon #mick schumacher #f1 imagine #f1 drivers #oscar piastri #football #liverpool fc #jude bellingham #trent alexander arnold #declan rice #real madrid #arsenal fc

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saintescuderia · 1 month

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welcome to the mini series of the random, mindless thoughts had by a poet disguised in an orange jumpsuit watching cars speed by all weekend. enjoy!

--- note: 5am starts, 7pm finishes. all four days. gotta love formula 1!

thursday: media day!

i want the ferrari jacket

there are school kids here?

i don’t want the ferrari jacket

$7 for a small can of red bull is THEFT

especially since they broke the cost cap

me walking through the “accredited personnel” gate and tapping my special lanyard is a CORE memory

i think my uber driver dropped me off on the opposite side of the track

*stressing about being unable to admire the sights of albert park bc i’m stress-running from the opposite end of the track to my station*

pls don’t be a dick and say i’m late - i know

how is a 5am wake up not early enough HOW?

“last year i was stationed at the corner where charles spun out.”

sole thought = 💀💀💀💀

i. fucking. love. cars.

the whole SENSORY experience of a race ffffffffffffuuuuuck

“be careful taking pictures because that security camera is on us and is straight to race control and the FIA.” is such a cool sentence to hear

a porsche gtr should not be covered with branding idc

i’m definitely going to abuse caffeine this weekend

friday: FP1 / FP2

the sun is rising over the lake as i walk on the albert park track and i’m happy to be alive

especially as i found a toilet that isn’t a port-a-loo

ah, a cafe that does good decent coffee thank GOD

am i going to pay $10 for a croissant?

i'm going to pay $10 for a croissant.

i lived in paris but this one fresh lune choc croissant has topped it all

no like there will never be another croissant experience to beat me eating a fresh pain au chocolat on a f1 circuit as the sun rises over the water with the melbourne skyline in the background

aramco engineers are walking behind me as i shit talk about f1, nice

“it is an increasingly unique experience peeing in a port-a-loo beside a formula one track as cars race by.”

120’000 is a LOT of people

how has the float not broken yet?

metro boomin has released an album as i stand before live formula one. life has PEAKED

fernando alonso is the first F1 driver i ever saw live

there is a shift in formula one as the heritage fans of motor racing are on the out as the next generation of fans absorbed in driver hype and social media takes over and we see this in how F1 has created the new US tracks and made them all into spectacles and fans are here because of it being “cool” instead of caring about cars

… maybe i should buy the redbull jacket instead?

bonus: sole thought during the pitlane walk for the marshals

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

saturday: FP3 / qualifying

the relief of thinking you’re late and then seeing someone you know HA

commentators are now contractually obligated to bring up saudi arabia every time they talk about ollie bearman

jesus they’re as bad as the f1 girlies

i have to watch the grand prix replay after all of this i have no idea what’s actually going on

CHARLES GOES FASTER THAN MAX HA

kimi spinning out has me actively wanting to cry

a safety car FROM THE PIT EXIT

welcome to F2 everyone 👏👏👏

not me lying to the cute irish guy hitting on me about @saintescuderia

a big fat ha at the eshays holding their puffer jackets - even they can’t stand the heat

don’t flex on me that you’re here at F1 when you don’t even know what’s going on yourself bruhhhh

to the red bull fan telling me i’m “dramatic” for rolling under the fence (it’s how marshals have to do it) pls get help

$7 for a calispo is a JOKE

recording F1 quali isn’t even worth it bc they're TOO FAST

JOKES I GOT A PHOTO WITH ALBONO

i’m very lucky for my team of marshals :))))))))))

i’m only going to eat half my muffin

*finishes the whole thing*

sunday: race!

KIMI ANTONELLI!

do i ask for a photo?

*every photo of charles leclerc being abused flashes through my mind*

nah leave him be

five minutes later: i regret not asking him

the group of aussies dressed as lance stroll drunk at 9am have my heart and my respect

i need a coffee

seeing kimi walk right by me has now made so much invested for f2

i really need a coffee

yep they screwed kimi with all those safety cars

i really, really need a coffee

we get to go ON TRACK? for the DRIVERS PARADE

*starts practicing “get well soon” in spanish*

my heart is BEATING

lol jokes carlos didn’t even look at us

*checks footage to see that i accidentally just recorded guanyu zhou next to carlos the whole time :))))*

lol are they putting lewis and charles together all the time?

every marshal: “that was the shittest parade ever.”

i need a drink

pls don’t talk to me for the next two hours

don't meet your heroes kids

but also why the fuck did they do the float in one big car? and do INTERVIEWS? this is legit the one time the drivers can be there JUST for the FANS

F1 can PISS OFF

race start = okay it's happening

waitwaitwaitwaitWAITDIDIJUSTSEECARLOSOVERTAKEMAX?!

nevermind i love him

"race control has asked that you calm down, marshals are supposed to be neutral."

lol at the entirety of albert cheering that max is slowly coming to a DNF

mclaren swapping oscar for lando is DISGUSTING fuck zak brown

somehow, i've forgotten that charles is just there

SEND IT CARLOS VAmos

(this is all because i told you que te mejores pronto!)

daniel ricciardo....man..... aus gp can't market you like this.......

damn yuki got HANDS

ferrari and mclaren having the top 4 places is just *chefs kiss*

lewis just had to stall just pass my sector like i hope ur okay but couldn't u not be ok in front of me?

red bull deserves this after all the FLACK i've copped from red bulls fans ("dramatic" MY ASS)

wait george russell ARE YOU SERIOUS?!

singapore all over again. i can already see the memes.

somehow marshalling a gp has you closer and more removed from the whole thing i have no idea what's going on

(literally the only time i used my F1TV live timing)

finishing after the safety car means i can't stick my head out and clap for carlos FUCK OFF

wait, he came up right UP TO MY SIDE OF THE TRACK TO WAVE

... do you think he noticed me?

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almaprincess66 · 3 months

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It came to me in a daydream but the following scene got into my brain:

Hamilton standing on a table delivering a monologe being real magestic and prideful and collected. And when he finishes he realises that he has to get off the table but stumbling down would ruin this amazing picture so he hushes Laurens there to take him down the table.

And Laurens does by grabbing him like he weights nothing and puts him down directly in front of him and they stare into each other's eyes but then realise that they are in fact surrounded by people. So Laurens quickly brushes off Hamilton's shoulder and they both hold up their hands with a thumbs up going

"All good? " "All good." And then they akwardly smile while nodding.

Idk why but this looked really funny in my head.

#lams #historical lams #hamilton #alexander hamilton #john laurens #a scene i made up #in my head #fluff #amrev #but imagine it in like a stage play #an office comedy #they could be the romcom of the sitcom

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silverchainbee · 2 years

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Okay, who's taking Lin-Manuel Miranda character fic requests? I may have a few and have officially run out of things to read. I'm telling you, I've read everything 😅

Sincerely, a girl with lots of ideas and no writing ability. And nothing to read on my night shift 😭😭😭

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alltoolewis · 2 months

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March Prompt list

Hello! To get me back in the swing of writing, I am challenging myself to a prompt list a month!

Please request the number you would like and which driver/footballer you would like it to be for (list found here). If possible please leave a little scenario you would like with it, this isn't a requirement but helps me make sure that we are on the write track with it! It is a first come rule so I do apologise if the prompt you'd like is taken before I get the chance to rule it out xx

Fluff

“i can’t help but find it terribly funny that you think you’re in any position to give me dating advice.” Charles Leclerc

"It’s not fair that your house has power and mine doesn’t.” Ruben Dias

“Woah woah woah, when did this turn into dating?” “Just go with it okay?” Lewis Hamilton

“That shouldn’t have been as hot as it was.” Mason Mount

"why are you so jittery?" "i just saw _____, they're so beautiful."

“just hold me.” Lando norris

“You… You learned to cook my favourite meal?” Domi

"Come on, let's get you to bed" "Mmh...?" "Come on honey" Trent Alexander Arnold

“if you’re still wondering who left those flowers at your desk, i think i’m ready to put your mind at ease.” Jude Bellingham

“i couldn’t think of a better night to show everyone how in love with you i am.” Dominik Szoboszlai

Angst

“We were the only ones who believed in us.” “And that wasn’t enough?” “No. No, it wasn’t enough, apparently. Because look at us now.” Mason Mount

“I really thought we were it, you know?” Jude bellingham

"I thought that if I did all this and came all this way, it would finally click for you... if you can't figure it out by now, then i don't have anything else to tell you." Trent

“Well, I’m sorry I fell in love with you, okay? But it happened and I can’t do shit about it.” “You… What?” Trent Alexander Arnold

"please- please, please wake up, [name]- w-wake up.. please." Mason mount

"i sacrificed everything for you..." Domi

"wait, don't go, please.." Trent Alexander Arnold

“Isn’t this what you wanted? For us to be apart and never see each other again?” Dominik szoboszlai

“Hold my hand, okay? It’s gonna be over soon.”

"What am I? A product for you buy?"

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astralaffairs · 9 months

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freedom of the press 08 | thomas jefferson

title: freedom of the press 08

words: 10k

warnings: a lot of angst sorry. 09 will be happier if i can publish it in less than 2.5 years this time. addiction/substance abuse mentions, STI mentions

pairing: thomas jefferson x reader

desc: the 2020 republican presidential frontrunner is an obnoxious, morally bankrupt people-pleaser, but what happens when you become the person he’s most eager to please?

tags: @stargazelaurens @ivory-haired-queens @exoticxchicken8 @assbuttstyles777 @distinguishedpotsticker @fukaaaaaaaa @hereforthepsyche-assessment @ivetoldamillionlies @fangirl570 @thealaddinkid @lasciviouspeach @snazzydoesthings @shy-and-awkward-daveed @rachelhermionerose @soft-weeb-s @gryffinclxw @anamrnk @daveeddiggsit @ayayayayana @marinovakovich @cryinghazelnutt @thefandomgirl03 @a-hopeless-fan @cloudynblw @tinywhim @lolidunnoaboutnow @siriusorionblackiii @fanfic-addict-98 @nyxie75 @i-know-i-can @yxseminx @yavin4andor @sugacita @sstrawberry-fanta @youtxbemusic @queenwilty @someinsanefangirl @foudre-aqua @whatevs2000 @rwr-ites @maxi-ride @moose-on-the-l00se @itshaileyn @toxicidity @malos-moving @luckyfriesss @lovecass123

"YOU SENT ASHLEY my fucking article?"

"Woah, honey, slow down," Angelica said, voice staticky through the phone, but Y/N was fuming. She was sure that everyone in the diner below her apartment could hear her yelling. "Yes, I sent it. You asked me to, last night."

Y/N furrowed her brow. "...What the hell are you talking about?"

"Seriously?" she asked. "Don't tell me you've forgotten. You promised you only had two drinks."

Y/N's stomach turned. She distinctly remembered downing half the open bar at the campaign fundraiser the night prior after the way her conversation with Thomas had ended. She less-distinctly remembered Angelica driving her home -- she'd been in North Carolina on a different assignment, but it turned out the CEO she was reporting on happened to be one of Thomas's biggest donors. "Okay, so maybe I stretched the truth a little, but what does that have to do with anything?"

"It has everything to do with everything," Angelica said flatly. "You told me to send that article to Ashley in the middle of your soliloquy about how Jefferson was ruining your life. You were rambling, but you were coherent; I wouldn't have expected you'd wake up having forgotten all of it."

The more she spoke, the more was coming back to Y/N, though. Flashes of Angelica checking her out of her hotel, driving her several hours back north to DC.

"Fuck," she finally said, palming her forehead as though it'd restore her memory. "Wait, why would I have you send it to her instead of just doing it myself?"

"I don't know," Angelica said mildly. "Maybe you were too far gone to write the email."

"You said I was coherent," Y/N replied, raising an eyebrow. "So which is it? Was I drunk beyond belief, or did I just seem a little tipsy?"

"Honey, I don't know; you were just a little out of it. And you did just tell me you’d lied to me about how much you’d had to drink." Angelica sounded exasperated, but Y/N wasn't done.

"Forward me the email you sent Ashley. I need to see when you sent it and what you said."

"Why? I—"

"Because I don't believe that I asked you to do that," she snapped, and Angelica paused for a long moment, taken aback.

"...Why don't you believe me?"

"Because I'd already decided that I wasn't going to send it," Y/N huffed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"And so you think I did it behind your back?"

“That’s exactly what I think.”

There was a long pause; all Y/N could hear from the other end of the line was static.

“Y/N—”

“Either forward me the email you sent Ashley, or own up to it,” she cut her off, having no desire to hear Angelica push another excuse. “Prove me wrong.”

“I can’t.” Angelica’s tone was biting, and Y/N’s scowl deepened. “I did send it, but you know what? I’m trying to save you from yourself.”

“What the hell do you mean, ‘save me from myself’?” she asked incredulously. “You were the one who told me that only I could decide what I wanted to publish.”

“You spent an hour on the trip home talking about how Jefferson was ruining your life,” Angelica reminded her. “So why don’t you want that article published? Why are you trying to protect him?”

“Because even he doesn’t deserve this.”

“Why not?” she asked. “Why doesn’t he? He’s been ruining your career, antagonizing you on Twitter; do you even remember how worked up you were yesterday? Talk about your integrity all you want, but that doesn’t mean you have to protect him.”

“It’s not about protecting him,” Y/N defended. “It’s just what I think is right.”

“And why don’t you think this is right? That’s what I don’t get.” Angelica’s huff sent a rush of static through the phone that made Y/N wince. “Honey, this would fix all the damage he’s done to your career; isn’t it only fair that you publish? You've been drowning in bills, and I know it's taking a toll on you. You deserve the money you'll get from this. Besides, you don’t owe him anything.”

You don’t owe him anything.

Y/N couldn’t reply; Angelica’s words reverberated in her mind like an echo — they were true. She didn’t owe him anything. That was what she’d been telling herself, it was what she’d been telling everyone else, and it was what she'd spent the past night arguing with him about.

And he’d agreed. She didn’t owe him anything.

“I… I can’t have this conversation right now, Ang,” she sighed. “I know you meant well, but this wasn’t your place to get involved. Now I need to figure out what my next move is.”

“It’s too late to stop the article. Ashley already has it.” Y/N winced at her words, and Angelica continued, “If you refused to give her the sources, she’d fire you. I know this job means too much for you to just throw it away when things get hard.”

"This isn't 'things getting hard'; it's me losing the reason I wanted to be a journalist in the first place."

"And if you want to stay a journalist, you'll send Ashley the tape of your interview with Adams," Angelica said. "She can't publish without it."

“Don't act like somehow you know what's best for me, Angelica."

"It seems like I know better than you. Your finances have been the worst part of your life for years, and those are your exact words," she said, and Y/N scoffed. However, there was truth to it. "If you just waited it out and let Ashley transfer you to another department, would you even be able to pay your bills? Or would you lose your electricity? Your running water? What would you do the next time a student debt payment rolled around?"

"Well, thanks to you, now Ashley's threatening to fire me altogether.” Y/N scowled. "If I lose my income, I sure as hell won't be able to pay off my debt."

"Then follow through with the article," she urged. "You know it's what you need to do. You have to do this for yourself, Y/N. You think Jefferson's never broken his code of ethics to get ahead? Do you even think he has one?"

“Of course—” Y/N had to cut herself off. Her first instinct was to defend him, but she didn’t see any way she could convince Angelica of anything without her believing she’d been indoctrinated. “It isn’t about him. It’s about me, and it’s about my integrity. It doesn’t matter what he’s done.”

“Ashley already has the article. Don’t forget that.”

"You shouldn't have sent it in the first place,” Y/N said. “This is my job, and it's my career; you aren't allowed to make decisions like this on my behalf. At least the tape will buy me time.”

“That buys you two weeks, tops.”

“Then I’ll make the most of it.”

____________

THAT’D BEEN THE first stop on her damage control from the previous night, but she still had a long way to go. Lafayette was gracious enough to get her Dolley’s phone number; Y/N had a number of things she felt she needed to clear the air on, but her conversation with Dolley wasn’t exactly short.

Y/N spent the better part of two hours trying to convince her not to tell James what she’d heard. Apparently, she’d been holding her tongue since she walked in on them at the state dinner months before, but she felt like she’d learned too much the night prior to keep it from him.

She couldn’t tell James, though — at least, that was Y/N’s firm conviction. If she spilled everything to James, he’d have done everything in his power to keep Y/N away from their campaign. After all, since whatever there had been between her and Thomas was over, James didn’t need to worry about anyone’s conflict of interest.

Y/N’s throat tightened when she realized that.

But Dolley didn’t budge, and Y/N was ultimately forced to give up her desperate plea.

A week passed. Y/N returned to her normal schedule at the diner, and Thomas returned to avoiding those shifts whenever possible. (Although, according to Mira, he hadn't stopped by at all.) To the untrained eye, everything was business as usual; Y/N was working both her jobs, going to election events, and interviewing politicians, but to her, there was nothing usual about what she was doing.

She hardly slept that week. It wasn’t because of Thomas, she’d like to have claimed; she was just busy, balancing everything she needed done, working two jobs and trying to figure out what needed to happen for her to keep the Adams article from getting a green light. This was just how she was getting by.

So when Lafayette called her the next Friday, she almost didn’t pick up.

Or, really, she didn’t pick up until the fourth consecutive time he called.

“Hey, Lafayette.”

“What happened between you and Thomas?”

“What?” Y/N was curled up with her laptop on her couch, indulging in retail therapy against her better judgment. At his words, she furrowed her brow. Why was he bringing this up? Why would he have known? “What are you talking about?”

“Do not act as if you do not know what I am referring to,” Lafayette snapped. "He 'as not been 'imself since his fundraiser in North Carolina. So what happened?"

"I…" Y/N furrowed her brow as she processed Lafayette's words. Had he really taken it that poorly? Y/N knew he wasn't thrilled about the development between them; that much went without saying, but they both knew it was for the best. What Thomas wanted, she couldn't give him. Not then. "What d'you mean 'he hasn't been himself'? And why the hell do you think I have anything to do with it?"

“I do not know ‘ow to explain it, Y/N.” Lafayette sighed. “‘Ave you ‘eard from him recently? He 'as been… distant."

She swallowed hard at the question. "Not… not really. Why, what has he told you?"

"Nothing. And zat is exactly ze issue." His tone was short, and the words left little room for discussion. "Did you talk to him about ze article?"

"No, actually."

"...Really?" The surprise in Lafayette's voice was unmistakably genuine, and it made Y/N crease her brow.

“Yeah, um… why is that such a surprise? Did he say something?”

“No. He has ‘ardly spoken to me since ze fundraiser, and I cannot decipher why. I supposed zat something ‘ad happened between ze two of you because of your article, but…” He trailed off, and Y/N could hear in his voice just how stumped he was. “Did anything happen that night?”

“I mean, no, nothing important," she said, brow creased. "Why do you think I have something to do with this?"

“When I asked him what was wrong, ‘e told me to ask you,” Lafayette replied. "So here I am. There 'as to be something, Y/N."

“Don’t worry about it, Lafayette,” she said, rubbing her forehead as though it’d make her headache subside. “It doesn’t concern you.”

"So there is something zat you are not telling me." She winced at the accusation in his voice, but she couldn't claim that he was wrong.

"Okay, fine, but it wasn't a big deal. I swear."

“Perhaps not for you,” he countered, "but you should ‘ave seen Thomas.”

“Is he really doing that badly?” she asked hesitantly, unsure of whether she wanted to hear the answer. "Maybe he's just stressed."

“He has ‘ardly left his apartment, chérie. I went by earlier to check on him, and he would hardly speak to me. He looked like a mess.”

"What d'you mean 'looked like a mess'? Is he okay?" The question was hesitant. "He's, like, safe and everything, right?"

"Alors... he is safe, yes. But he is," --Lafayette hesitated for a long moment, and all that could be heard was static through the line-- "self-destructing, I suppose is ze term. I do not believe zat it is my place to share anything further, though."

"...Well, shit. I didn't think it was that serious."

“You did not think zat what was zat serious?" he asked, voice exasperated. "Can you not simply be forthcoming with me?"

“Nothing, like, big or tragic happened between us,” she said, and she could hear the defensive edge creeping into her own voice. “We just… talked, and we decided it was in both of our best interests to stop sleeping together. That’s all I have to tell you.”

“Zere ‘as to be more to ze story.” Lafayette’s voice, though muffled through the phone, had a stern undertone. “Please, do not withhold things. I am simply trying to help.”

“I don't know what to tell you, honestly,” she said. “What’s done is done. I can't help him anymore. He wouldn't want to see me.”

“Why did you decide to end things?” he asked. “My impression ze other day was that you were happy.”

She winced. That afternoon at Lafayette's place felt so long ago, after what'd changed. “It just had to happen.”

“Is it because you are publishing ze article?”

“I… no. It isn't.” She swallowed hard. Whether she was publishing it seemed like an extraneous detail.

“Then what happened? What did you say to ‘im?”

“I didn't say anything wrong. I've told you all that went down,” she insisted. “We just… You know we’re not in a relationship. The choice to stop all this was mutual.”

“Was it really?”

“Yes. He was the one who suggested it.” That much was true. However, she wasn’t sure how candid the suggestion had been when he initially brought it up. “Whatever's weighing on him, it has to be more than what happened with me. I don't think our conversation would've affected him all that much."

“Y/N, please, be straightforward with me. He told me to speak to you about zis." The concern in Lafayette's voice was neither light nor well-concealed. "I am worried about him. Zis is serious."

“Then I don’t know what it is,” she insisted, throwing a hand up in frustration. “I'm sorry, Lafayette. You know this wouldn't be something I'd want for him, but I can't help you.”

He sighed audibly. “I realize zat I will not be getting any more information from you, Y/N, but I am not done with trying to figure zis out.”

Y/N swallowed hard. “And I wish you the best of luck.”

____________

SHE WANTED THE weekend to herself after that. She didn't think Thomas would be taking this all so hard, but then again, she'd bottled everything up the moment she returned to D.C., pretended she'd believed every word she'd said to him, and she figured he'd do the same. It didn't seem like him to dwell.

And yet, there he was, dwelling, and so there she was, too, worrying about him. Her stomach was in knots.

Lafayette called her a number of times, sent her countless texts. He asked her to come over and talk to him about what happened, but she had no interest. He'd get nothing out of it, and she'd only feel worse. Besides, she couldn't run the risk of seeing Thomas in their building when she was there for Lafayette. He seemed to be unavoidable whenever she was there, but then again, maybe that was why Lafayette asked her over in the first place.

She called off all her shifts over the next couple of days, claiming a head cold, that she didn't want to get anyone else sick. Mira sounded skeptical, but she let her go.

Despite her reluctance to leave her apartment, though, when Dolley called and asked her to come over to talk, she was in a double bind. She hadn't told James anything yet, she said, and she wanted to hear what Y/N had to say about it all before she did. If she didn't want James to resent her until the end of time, she supposed she didn't have much of a choice. She was struggling to pinpoint why she still cared so much about his opinion of her, though.

But she thought she owed it to Thomas to try to contain the fallout.

“Hey, Dolley. Thanks for hearing me out.” She shrugged her coat off, left it on the bench beside the front door of James and Dolley’s house.

“Of course, dear. I figured it was only fair." Dolley gave her a sympathetic smile as she came to pull Y/N into a gentle hug. "Can I get you anything? I was about to make myself a cup of tea, but I could put on a pot of coffee, too, if you'd like."

"Actually, tea sounds really nice."

"Alright. You just sit tight, make yourself at home, and I'll be back in a minute."

Her mind was racing as she curled into Dolley’s couch, glancing around her house. She knew James wasn’t home, but she couldn’t help her paranoia that, somehow, he’d hear her, astral projecting from his lunch meeting into his bedroom.

But Dolley came back after putting the tea kettle on the stove, and Y/N had to get herself out of her head. She’d boiled her advocacy down into a nice, itemized list; Dolley took a seat beside her, and Y/N began giving her the hard sell.

I’ll spare you the details — after all, it’s everything you already know. You’d been there, a fly on the wall beside the hotel hot tub, and you know that Dolley telling James what she’d heard would accomplish nothing — he'd likely resent Y/N for it (not that she'd blame him; she knew the problem her relationship with Thomas presented for their campaign). However, with everything between her and Thomas having been put to an end, it'd accomplish nothing. James would have her barred from their events to prevent her from becoming a distraction, but it wouldn't change anything, by then, and only hinder her career.

And besides, she and James were friends. She didn't want the brief, silly fling she'd had with Thomas to ruin that.

She finished monologuing, and, as if on cue, the doorbell rang.

She raised an eyebrow, glancing at the door and then back at Dolley. "Were you expecting someone?"

"I—" The tea kettle started whistling, cutting her off abruptly as she turned her head back toward the kitchen. Dolley sighed. "Oh, hell. Would you mind getting that while I get the door? I need to go see who's here."

“Yeah, sure.” She went to the kitchen as Dolley stood to get the door, and she found that Dolley had made her life fairly easy. There sat two mugs and a box of teabags on a little wooden tray, so all she did was put the little kettle on a potholder before returning to Dolley’s living room.

She couldn’t have been gone for more than a few minutes, but when she came back, she and Dolley weren’t alone.

She nearly dropped the tray.

“Thomas?”

He and Dolley both looked up from where they sat on the couch.

“Y/N.” The minute he met her eyes, she froze. Lafayette was right — he looked like hell. The bags under his eyes were deep, and he clearly hadn’t shaved in several days. His beard was growing in patchy. “What are you doin’ here?”

“I…” She was struggling to speak past the lump in her throat. “What are you doing here?”

“Dolley invited me.”

Her eyes widened as she turned. “What the hell, Dolley?”

“Oh, would you relax? You two need to talk, and you well know it,” Dolley snapped, and Y/N’s grip tightened on the handles of the tray she held. “Come here and sit down.”

“No. I...” She set the tray down on the side table nearest her, and Dolley furrowed her brow. “I'm leaving. I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but there’s nothing more to say.”

"Come on, Y/N—"

"She's right, Doll," Thomas sighed. "We already ended things."

"Please, neither of you wanted to. You're just both too stubborn to say it."

"Don't act like you know the full story," Y/N scoffed.

"So you don't want to fix this?"

"There's nothing to fix." Dolley hummed skeptically as Y/N proceeded past her, grabbed her jacket from the bench by the door. "Thanks for having me, though. I'll see you."

"If either of you leaves, I'm telling James everything."

She paused. "Dolley, you can't—"

"I can, and I will. Now, get back here."

"This is blackmail."

"I won't deny that." Dolley raised an expectant eyebrow when Y/N turned back to her. "Are you going to come sit down, or was this a waste of both our afternoons?"

“Dolley.”

“Would you two like a minute to yourselves?”

“I…” She didn’t answer, instead turning to Thomas, waiting for any sort of a cue. He was watching her, though, and when their eyes met, both of them fell silent. She swallowed hard.

“That might be best.” Thomas’s words were soft, but Y/N couldn’t speak, not with the lump that was building in her throat. Dolley glanced between them, and maybe she could see the silent dread in Y/N’s eyes, but she didn’t say another word, just nodded before she left the room. And with that, Y/N and Thomas were alone.

She swallowed hard. When she finally took a seat, it was on the far end of the couch. Y/N felt certain that Dolley’s draping coats and resting books on every other chair in the room was deliberate.

He was the first to speak.

"So, what're you doin' here, then?"

"Dolley invited me, too." She pursed her lips. "I came to talk to her about… everything she heard."

"Why?" Thomas looked genuinely bewildered, but Y/N didn't understand his confusion.

"I was trying to convince her not to talk to James about it." She shrugged. "I mean, it's not like it's worth her telling him now. It wouldn't change anything."

"Then why d'you care if he knows?"

"I…" She trailed off, unsure whether there was any delicate way to say that she didn't want him to be on the receiving end of any hostility from James just because he'd fucked her a few times. She didn't think he deserved that. "I guess I'd rather James not think I'm sleeping around to get ahead."

"'N you're really that worried about his opinion of you?"

"More than I should be." Her voice was quiet. "Anyway, what issue do you have with that? This whole thing affects you, too, you know."

"Oh, believe me, I know." He huffed, folded his arms as he sat back against the couch cushions. "I, er… I came for the same reason. Didn't want James chewin' me out over it."

“James loves you. Even if she does tell him, you know he won’t be able to be angry about it.”

“James ‘s one of my oldest friends,” he agreed, “but when we’re workin’ together, that doesn’t matter anymore. He’d be furious.”

“Even after the fact?”

He shrugged. “We knew everything we were putting at risk here. He’d tell me my priorities weren’t in the right place, or that I shoulda been taking our campaign more serious than… whatever you ‘n I were doin’.”

“Then I guess it’s good that we stopped,” Y/N replied weakly.

“Yeah.” Thomas didn’t meet her eyes. There was a long moment of silence after that; she could tell his mind was elsewhere with the absent stare he wore, fixed on the ottoman of one of the armchairs, but his brow was furrowed. He was deep in thought. She pursed her lips. “What were you gonna say that night?”

The question caught her off guard; her eyes widened, and he looked up calmly to meet her eyes, wearing an inquisitive look.

“What?”

“The night of my fundraiser.” She pressed her lips together into a thin line. “When Dolley came in, she cut you off. I haven’t been able to keep my mind off’a it.”

God, she hated how he was always so blunt. He always spoke his mind, always said what he was thinking, and it was one of the things that scared Y/N most about him. He hadn’t been able to keep his mind off of that one little moment, that fragmented sentence.

“I… I don’t remember.” Her answer was honest, but Thomas wasn’t satisfied.

"You never meant to…?"

"Hm?” Y/N furrowed her brow, and Thomas's noncommittal shrug didn't help much. “'I never meant to' what?"

"That's what I've been trying to figure out."

Oh. She pursed her lips, and her movements were hesitant. She knew what he was talking about — that'd been the last thing she said before their tense conversation ended abruptly the night of his fundraiser. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

Thomas scoffed. “Really? I don’t even deserve the truth about this?”

“I’m not lying.”

“Yes, you are.” His tone was unshakeable; he was beyond convinced of his words, and Y/N shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “After everything we’ve been through, I know you better than this.”

“And what have we been through? Hm? Fucking on your kitchen counter? I’m sorry to say it, but I’m not quite sure that’s the peak of intimacy.”

“Yeah, alright,” he acquiesced, “but what about all the time we didn’t spend fucking?”

“I…” Y/N trailed off, her jaw tight, entire body tense. “We both knew that was why we were together in the first place. I stayed over because I didn’t wanna travel through the city in the middle of the night. There wasn’t much more to it.”

“Oh, sweetheart, we both know that if you really just wanted to get into my pants, there was no need for you to spend so much time at mine.” His tone was frustratingly condescending, but he was right. “Don’t tell me the reason you made dinner with me, watched all my cheesy old movies, even watered my damn plants was ‘cause I give good head.”

Y/N scowled. "Fine. I like spending time with you. But that doesn't make us anything more than friends."

He hummed in acquiescence, giving a subdued shrug. "Guess not. Making out on the kitchen counter does that well enough, though."

"Okay, we were friends with benefits," she conceded, but Thomas didn't look quite satisfied. "What? What's wrong with that? We're friends, and we slept together."

"Don't try and tell me this is all in my head." Thomas scowled. "Yeah, we slept together. But we did a lot more than that. I know very well I'm not delusional for thinking something more was goin' on there."

“You’re blowing this out of proportion,” Y/N scoffed. “You know it was never like that; it wasn’t what I wanted.”

“No, I know.” Thomas shifted on the couch to face her, and his gaze was heavy with scrutiny, with skepticism. “You didn’t wanna get too involved. You made all that clear as day.”

“Then what’s the problem?” The undertone of irritation in his voice was putting her on edge, and he let out a dry, breathy laugh, shaking his head.

“That you’ve been lyin’ to me.”

“What? I never—”

“I don’t mean your intentions. You never wanted us to be more than friends. That’s just fine,” he reasoned, and how measured his tone was made Y/N furrow her brow. “But what I wanna know now is if you did end up gettin’ more attached than you meant to.”

“I… ?” Her voice was breathless. It sounded as though his question had knocked the wind out of her, but Thomas just continued to watch her expectantly.

“You heard me. You know what I’m askin’.”

“Does it matter?” she asked, but the words sounded hoarse. She could feel her hands trembling where she rested them on her thighs, and she folded her arms to hide it. She didn’t want Thomas to see how uneasy she was.

“It does to me.” He pursed his lips, leaned forward to rest on his forearms on his thighs. Y/N didn’t respond. “If you’re not gonna gimme an answer on that, the least you can do is tell me what you were gonna say that night. Just give me something to go on here.”

“It won’t change anything.” Her voice was heavy.

“Then just tell me." He sounded tired. "I can't go on wondering if this was all in my head."

“Thomas…”

“Please,” he said. “What’d you ‘never mean to’ do?”

“Hurt you.” Her words were nearly inaudible as she stared down at her legs, unable to bring herself to look up and see how he was watching her. “Which feels silly to say now, but it’s the truth.”

His jaw was tight. He nodded. “Great.” He let out a heavy breath, leaned back off of his legs to sit up in his chair. “Great. ‘M gonna go tell Dolley we’re finished with talking. Don’t think there’s anything else to say.”

Y/N’s eyes were wide as he stood, particularly as she hadn’t moved an inch. “Wait, what?” He looked down at her with an expectant eyebrow raised when he went to grab his coat. She frowned. “I mean, yeah, sure, fine. But…”

“But what?” Thomas immediately challenged it when she trailed off, shaking her head.

“But that’s it?” she asked. “You’re just gonna leave now after you pressed for me to tell you that?”

He let out a humorless, breathy laugh. “‘Course I am. What else am I supposed to do with, ‘oh, I never meant to hurt you, Thomas’?”

Y/N wrinkled her nose at his mocking impression of her voice, taken aback by his shift in demeanor. “I don’t know. You’re the one who kept asking.”

“Mm, you’re right. My bad, sweetheart.” His tone was mocking as he pulled his arms into the sleeves of his coat, shrugged it onto his shoulders. He glanced back at the doors to the rest of the house. “‘S Dolley in the kitchen? Hang on a sec.”

“Hey, wait, slow down,” Y/N said, and she sounded affronted.

“What? You don’t wanna leave?”

“I… yeah, but…” She frowned. “Why do you sound so angry? What did I do?”

“I’m not angry.” The strain in his nonchalant gaze and his clenched jaw both said otherwise. “I can just appreciate some good irony, ‘s all.”

“What?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I mean,” he said. “You’re too smart for that, c’mon.”

“I got the implication,” she replied, struggling to keep her tone in check, “but no, I don’t know what you mean by it. What have I done to wrong you so sincerely? Hm?”

“Oh, please, I can’t do this again.” His frustration was unbridled in his voice. “Hasn’t even been a week since we went over it. Try ‘n think.”

“Do you mean in North Carolina?”

“When else?”

She huffed. “Alright, fine, but I don’t know what you want me to say to that. Do you really want to re-hash that argument?”

“Not in the least. ‘S why I’m leavin’,” he said frankly. “You take care of yourself, now.”

“Wait, come on,” she protested, finally standing up alongside him. “You seem even more mad now than you did last week. What’s your problem?”

He raised an eyebrow, and the amusement in his small smile was sardonic. “Right now? Sugar, you’re my problem. What’s hard to understand about that?”

How condescending his tone was made Y/N grit her teeth. “Then what do you want from me? What am I doing so incredibly wrong right now that I deserve—?”

“Same thing you’ve been doin’,” he spat. “Pretending to care about me ‘n then turnin’ around and makin' me feel silly for believing it."

"Hey, what?" The offense she took was clear in her voice. "Of course I care about you."

"Oh, save it. There's nothing to prove anymore. No need for the act."

"What the fuck do you mean 'act'?" He rolled his eyes at her question, went back to buttoning up his coat, and she scoffed. "I'm still talking to you."

"'N you're not sayin' anything I haven't heard."

"Then what do you want from me?" she asked, throwing her hands up in exasperation. He looked her dead in the eye.

"Something you can't give me."

She was stunned to silence for only a moment after his biting words, and as he finished putting his coat on, she drew in a shuddering breath. "So that's what this is about. You're angry because I haven't sucked your dick in a couple weeks."

He huffed out a disbelieving laugh. "Please. If I needed to get off, I could go anywhere I wanted."

"Oh, right, because the women are lining up down the street to fuck you."

"That's not what I mean, and you know it," he snapped.

"Then what do you mean?" She folded her arms, raised her eyebrows.

He paused for a moment, tongue burrowed into the corner of his cheek as he watched her. "I mean that I actually want you. Am I not bein' clear enough? I don't just wanna fuck you once in a while 'n then pretend to be strangers. But I have no idea what the hell you want from me, so I'm leaving. You can tell Dolley I said g'night."

"I will," she replied. "And I'm sure James will love hearing everything Dolley knows about us hooking up. Have fun dealing with that fallout."

He let out a mirthless laugh. "Thanks. Whatever he has to say, it'll be much easier than havin' to deal with you."

––––––––––––––––––––

mailto: [email protected]

Ashley:

I hope this email finds you well. Thank you so much for all your feedback on the Adams article; it’s been incredibly helpful in my redrafting process. However, many of the claims he makes about Jefferson’s past remain unsubstantiated, and I have faced numerous obstacles in finding a source who is willing to corroborate. None of Jefferson’s contacts who know him well enough to confirm or deny are willing to comment. As such, I am reaching out to request a two-week postponement on the publishing of the article while I straighten out the facts supporting it.

Thank you in advance,

Y/N L/N

––––––––––––––––––––

THOMAS’S WORDS HAD stung. He left that day with no further ado, and Y/N was left dwelling in the days that followed. She couldn't help but wince every time she recalled what happened. Her guilt was weighing on her even heavier than before.

"Mija, where is the order for Marcus?"

It was Mira's voice that broke her train of thought, pulled her out of her head. She blinked hard and found herself in the middle of absentmindedly assembling a sandwich. She checked the receipt— shit. Marcus had specifically asked for no mayo.

Y/N huffed as she trashed the bread and pulled out another roll. A minute later, she slid his order out in a basket complete with fries and a pickle, yelled it out over the counter, and went on to the next one. They were closing in ten minutes: why the hell were there still orders to make?

She slumped against the kitchen counter, resting on her hands against it after she finished the lobster roll for Sriya. Mira walked in to her left.

"Ay, this mess," she huffed, untying her apron and scrunching her nose as she surveyed the room. Y/N nodded, her blank stare not leaving the floor in front of her. Mira furrowed her brow. "Oye, you with me?"

Again, she nodded absently, and Mira frowned, folded her arms. "And you are happy to wash all these dishes, too? I can leave you here to mop the floors?"

The robotic nod she received in return made her sigh. "Mija." She snapped her fingers; Y/N visibly jumped, eyes wide. She looked at Mira. "What is wrong, hm? Why are you acting dumb?"

"Hey, uncalled for," Y/N defended herself, wearing a small frown as she looked over at Mira's impatient expression. "I'm just distracted."

"By what?"

She shrugged. "I don't know… work, I guess."

"You are at work," Mira pointed out, and Y/N sighed.

"You know I mean my other job. There's a lot on my mind. I'm sorry if I've been slacking here."

"Mm. Apology accepted," she said, and Y/N could only roll her eyes.

"Glad to hear it."

"But actually talk to me now, hm? You are giving me half answers." Mira raised an eyebrow, hands on her hips. Y/N pursed her lips.

"It's not a huge deal. Just an article I've been working on," she said. Her stare was absent. After a minute, she cleared her throat. "But hey, um, sorry to change the subject, but can I ask, has Thomas Jefferson been around here lately?"

"'To change the subject,'" Mira repeated skeptically. "So he is your problem. It is always a man."

Y/N furrowed her brow. "I thought you loved Thomas."

"Sí, sí, pero te quiero más," Mira replied matter-of-factly. Y/N couldn't help her small smile. "You know you always come first for me."

"Thanks," she said softly.

"But why do you care about Thomas Jefferson coming here now? Hm?" Mira asked, making Y/N frown. She assumed she was off the hook. "All you ever do is complain about him. Shouldn't you be happy?"

"So he hasn't been coming here?"

"Ah, ah. My question first."

Y/N shrugged uncomfortably. "I don't know. I just haven't seen him during my shifts. I was curious."

Mira paused, eyeing her skeptically for a moment before she pulled her apron off over her head and folded it in her hands. "Yes, he has been by."

"Really? When?"

She nodded. "He was here yesterday."

"Did he seem… okay?"

Mira paused. "What do you mean?"

"I dunno." She shifted under Mira's disbelieving gaze. "I've heard he hasn't made many public appearances recently. Just wondering if something was going on."

"He seemed fine." Mira tossed her apron onto the counter. Y/N nodded, pressing her lips together. "He asked about you."

She froze. "He did?"

"He did," she confirmed. "Why did he ask about you?"

“What? I don’t know.” Her brow was furrowed, and her tone was defensive. “What did he ask?”

“The same thing you asked me about him. What is going on?”

“Nothing, I don’t—”

“No me mientas. I saw him leaving on a Saturday morning two months ago when I came in to open.” Mira’s tone was sharp, and Y/N’s stomach dropped. “I am not stupid; simply tell me what is happening."

“Mira, it’s really not what you think; he was just here while I was closing, and it was the night of that horrible blizzard, and his car wouldn’t start, and the roads were closed…”

“So you had an innocent little slumber party with Thomas Jefferson?”

“I just let him stay here for the night,” Y/N defended. “He didn’t really have any other options.”

“So why is he coming around here asking after you?” Mira folded her arms, and when Y/N shrugged, she sighed. “Please be honest with me. It is obvious that there is something more going on than you want to admit.”

Y/N’s long moment of silence following her words told Mira more than Y/N meant to divulge. Mira pursed her lips.

“Por favor, dime. I am only asking because I care about you.”

“Well, I appreciate it, but there’s nothing to be worried about,” Y/N assured her. “I’m obviously fine, and he’s apparently doing alright as well, so there’s no problem. I’ll come talk to you if there ever is.”

Mira looked her over as she cleaned up the counter she stood before. “Are you really doing fine, though?”

Y/N went to take out the trash.

–––––––––––––––––––––

SHE SETTLED BACK into her usual closing shifts at the diner within the week, returning to working the dinner rush. She could only feign illness to stay away for so long, and this wasn’t the shift Thomas typically came in during, anyway. Besides, she needed the money more than she needed to avoid him.

That week passed with little intrigue, limited to her favorite (and least favorite) customers alongside a surprise appearance from Lafayette on Wednesday night. Thankfully, he showed up during peak hours, so it wasn’t difficult to evade his questions under the guise of taking care of other customers. She assumed he left shortly after he came, but around an hour later, she noticed him in the back corner chatting animatedly with the old man who always ordered nothing but coffee and read his newspaper for hours. She couldn’t help but smile.

She was slowly walking back information from her article about Thomas, claiming she had another source denying the validity of its original claims, but she wasn’t sure her editor was buying it. Ashley was impatient, and her approach had always been to publish first and follow up later. It was surely only a matter of days, maybe a week, before the article went live without anyone corroborating it. Y/N was operating on stolen time.

But at that point, it couldn’t be her greatest concern.

The following Wednesday was slow at both the office and the diner. Thomas hadn’t appeared much in public since his fundraiser in North Carolina, so Y/N didn’t have much to write about to distract her from the exposé she was doing her best to stall. She had resorted to redundant think pieces about his economic policy platform.

When she arrived at the diner for the night, Y/N was already counting the hours until she could curl up with a glass of wine and watch Parks and Rec until she passed out on the couch. She’d take a night with Aubrey Plaza over her regulars any day.

She was working the kitchen with Jac until Mira left for the night, pushing Y/N to the register in her place. It wouldn’t have been a problem for her if not for the first face she saw when Mira brought her out to the front.

He was absentmindedly checking his phone when she approached, and she cleared her throat as she stepped up to the register. He looked up, and his eyes went wide.

"Hey." She spoke first. "What can I get you?"

"Hey." His voice was hesitant. "Sorry, I… thought you didn't work Wednesdays anymore."

She didn't meet his eyes, staring past him at the diner's patrons as she tapped her fingernails on the counter. "This is my usual shift."

"I know, but Lafayette said…" He trailed off, shaking his head. She raised her eyebrows, finally looking directly at him. His eyes were bloodshot. "Nevermind. 'M sorry. Can I get a roast beef on rye and a cappuccino to go?"

"Yeah. It'll be out shortly." Her words were soft, absentminded as she eyed him. He looked more put-together than she'd seen him when they were at Dolley’s, but the heavy frames of his glasses didn't hide the growing bags under his eyes.

He nodded, leaning down to pay, signing the screen before him. "Thanks, sweetheart."

He was tucking his card back into his wallet as he spoke, and as her eyes widened, he froze, both of them processing his words at the same time. He didn't say another word, though. He sighed as he turned to walk away, and she didn't interrupt him.

She sent his order to the kitchen and grabbed a cup for his coffee, marking it with his name. She stared at it for a long moment before glancing back up at him. He was seated at a table by the end of the bar, typing frantically on his phone.

They had his order out for him in around five minutes, and it was Jac who called it out to the dining room when he put it on the bar. Y/N went ahead and made his coffee herself, forcibly switching places with her coworker to transfer herself off of the register, and she was finishing it right as he came up to collect his sandwich.

"Cappuccino for Thomas?"

Her voice was weak as she met him at the end of the counter, and he gave her a halfhearted smile.

"Thanks."

As she handed him the cup, his fingers brushed against hers, and she couldn't bring herself to let go.

"Give me a call?" she asked quietly when he met her gaze. Her eyes were hopeful, and he swallowed thickly.

"Take care of yourself." His tone was impersonal as he broke her stare. She pursed her lips. He pulled the cup from her shaking hands.

––––––––––––––––––––

THOMAS DIDN'T CALL. Y/N wasn't sure she was really expecting him to after how he came in on Wednesday and made it clear that he'd been trying to avoid her. Still, her heart rate picked up every time she received a notification, not letting her rest until she had confirmed it wasn't him. She was let down every time.

She was the last employee there before they closed on Friday, as Jac had to leave early for a date, so she was left wiping down the counters as she waited for the final few customers to make their way out of the diner.

She looked up when the bell above the door rang, expecting the last person to be leaving, but instead, Thomas Jefferson was walking in. Her eyebrows shot up.

She came over to meet him at the register. "Did Lafayette also tell you I wasn't working Fridays?"

"Nah. 'M actually here to see you," he said. His expression was blank, his tone businesslike. "You did ask me to call, didn't you?"

"Yeah." Her voice was small. "At this point, I didn't think you were gonna."

"I didn't plan to." They both glanced over as the bell above the door chimed again, letting them know the last person had left the diner. "But it's been on my mind. I don't have time for that typa distraction, which is why I'm here."

"Right," she said softly. "Can I get you anything?"

"Coffee would be great if it's not too much trouble."

"Of course." The coffee pot was still hot and sitting under the machine, so it didn't take her long to pour him a cup in one of the mugs she'd just cleaned (one cream, two sugars). She turned back to hand it to him. "Here you go."

"Thanks." He accepted it as he sat down across the counter from her, putting it down in front of him. When he pulled out his wallet, Y/N raised an eyebrow, and when he started fishing out bills, she couldn't help but sigh.

"Put your money away; this is on the house," she said, and he glanced up with his dark brow knit.

"You should know by now that I can't be bought."

Her eyes widened at his words, and she looked him over skeptically for a moment as he put his wallet away. He held her gaze for another moment, watching her expectantly, and after a beat passed, the corners of his lips quirked up, giving the only indication that he might be joking. She rolled her eyes.

"How could I forget about your impeccable morals?"

"No idea." He reached for his coffee, and he took a delicate sip as she leaned against the counter across from him. "Why'd you ask me to call?"

"I wanted to talk to you, but I didn't think a text would cut it."

"What do we have left to say right now?" The bluntness of his question caught her off guard, and her eyebrows shot up as he watched her expectantly. "The conversation we had at Dolley's made it pretty clear any talk we had was gonna be more of the same."

She frowned, crossing her arms in front of her as she drew back from the counter. "If you think this is a waste of time then why did you bother to come here?"

"I don't think this is a waste of time," he defended. "I'm just not sure what you want from it."

"I don't know if you do, but I still have more to say," she said. He raised an eyebrow.

"Then why didn't you say it while we were at Dolley’s?"

"Because we started fighting, and you were angry, and I…" She sighed. "I didn't know how to. You had every right to be angry, but I didn't want to think I was in the wrong."

"So what's changed?" he asked, watching her expectantly.

She shrugged hesitantly, looking down at her hands on the counter. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about what you said. I felt bad, and… I've been worried about you."

"You've been worried about me?" he repeated skeptically, and when she looked up, she didn't like the disdainful look in his eyes.

"I have." When his disbelieving stare didn't budge, she sighed. "The last couple times I've seen you, you haven't seemed like yourself. You looked… tired."

"'Course I'm tired; I'm running a presidential campaign," he said flatly, and Y/N pursed her lips.

"I know, but then Lafayette called, and…" She trailed off when Thomas huffed. "I dunno. Mira told me you asked about me, and then Lafayette started talking like he knew something I didn't. So I was worried."

"Of course Lafayette called," he scoffed. "He can't just stay out of our damn lives, can he?"

"He means well," she reasoned, but he looked unimpressed.

"He needs to learn a thing or two about boundaries," Thomas said, "but I'm doing just fine. If that's all you wanted to talk about, I can head out."

"No, c'mon," she pleaded. "I didn't bring you here just for that. Bear with me."

Thomas said nothing but raised an expectant eyebrow as he took another sip of his coffee, waiting for her to continue.

"The real reason I wanted to talk is because I owe you an apology. Several apologies, really."

He put down his mug, leaning back in his chair. "What for?"

"You know what for." She gave him a tired look, and he shrugged innocently.

"Maybe." He drummed his fingers on the ceramic absentmindedly, watching them bounce on its glossy surface. "But I wanna know if you know what you're apologizin' for."

The bored look he wore made her feel small. She swallowed.

"I'm sorry for treating you how I did."

"You're gonna have to be more specific."

"I think if I tried to be specific we'd be here quite a while."

"I've got time."

"It's late."

"You don't have work tomorrow." He paused, considering himself. "As far as I know, that is. Won't pretend I still know your schedule."

"It hasn’t changed as much as I pretended it did,” she said quietly. “So I guess I’ll start there. I’m sorry for lying to you about my schedule and trying to pretend I hadn’t been avoiding you. I should’ve been upfront when you asked about it.”

“Yeah, you shoulda," he agreed with a nonchalant shrug. "I never got an explanation on why you were avoidin’ me either, but with how you started deflecting when I asked about other men, I’m not sure I want one.”

“Woah, I wasn’t deflecting anything about other men,” she defended, brow creased. “I told you in no uncertain terms that I had no desire to hook up with Lafayette, and you decided to push that and scrutinize my dating life.”

He rolled his eyes. “‘S great to know you and Lafayette aren’t sleeping together, but you can’t pretend you were straightforward with me.”

“What was I not being clear about?”

“You’re really gonna make me do this again?” Thomas huffed, glancing to his right as disbelief flashed in his eyes. “I dunno why you wanted to talk to me if we were just gonna rehash this.”

“I’m being serious.”

“Every time I've asked whether you were sleeping with other people, you told me you didn’t owe me that information, ‘n it all became some big fight about me actin’ controlling,” he said. “If you don’t wanna tell me, fine, but don’t act like you’ve been transparent. We both know you’re keeping me in the dark for a reason.”

“I’m not, actually,” she said, looking him in the eye. “I haven’t been with anyone else. Not in any capacity. If I were having sex with other people, I would’ve been asking you to be a lot more careful.”

“So you didn’t call me up to tell me I needa get tested for chlamydia?”

“No, just syphilis.” Her tone was lighthearted, but Thomas didn’t offer any sign of amusement. She cleared her throat. “You’re the only person I’ve been with since we met, so the last thing you have to worry about is me passing on some incurable STI.”

“You haven’t slept with anyone else since I’ve known you?” There was surprise in his creased eyes as he fixated on the first part of her sentence. She shrugged.

“I guess I haven't.” She eyed his incredulous stare. "I didn't think this would be that shocking, either."

"You've been careful as possible to make that unclear," he said. "So if there's nobody else, then why all the lyin'? If you wanted space, you coulda just said so. I'm an adult; I can handle it."

"I know you can," she said quietly. She rubbed at a smudge on the countertop, trying to avoid his gaze. "I just… I've felt guilty about being with you and… whatever this is. Whatever we are. So much happened so fast between us, and the more time I spend in the outside world the more I feel like it was a mistake."

"'A mistake'?" The hurt in his tone was clear, and she sighed, resting her forehead on one of her hands.

"I don't mean it like that, but you know what the reality is here. We knew it from the start."

"I shouldn't have come here," he muttered, setting down his mug and moving to stand. Her eyes widened.

"Wait, hear me out," she pleaded, but he was off of his seat, buttoning his coat. "I got a lot more attached to you than I meant to, alright?"

That stopped him cold.

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about what you said at Dolley's, and I'm sorry I spent so much time deflecting." She pursed her lips, watching him hopefully, and when he met her eyes, his tense shoulders softened. "I really like being with you, but with what our lives are, we can't be doing this. We’re not good for each other."

"I never asked you for any kind of a commitment," he defended. "You shoulda just told me if you didn't wanna do it anymore."

"I do want to keep doing it, though, and that's why it's such a problem." She sighed, her back sagging as she leaned against the counter. "I got too close. It's ruined all my objectivity as a journalist."

"You're good at your job," he reasoned. "The way you write about me's gotten more nuanced. I don't think that's a bad thing, sweetheart."

"No, you don't get it. This is a presidential race, and as a frontrunner, people have had enough of hearing about your politics. They get it by now. They want to hear about you and your ugly past and all the things that make you an unqualified leader." Her voice sounded hopeless, and it made him frown. "You've told me too much for me to play it straight. I care too much to be able to decide what the public does and doesn't need to know. I got this assignment because I wanted to serve up your dirty laundry on a silver platter, but I don't think I have it in me after everything that's happened."

"There's not much in my past worth hiding."

"Isn't there?"

"If I've made it this this far into my career without bein' hurt by what I do behind closed doors, I'm not afraid of anything you're gonna dig up."

"You were an alcoholic."

His wide eyes snapped to hers, and she didn't dare speak.

"'N how the hell d'you know about that?"

"So it's true?" she asked quietly.

"I was grieving my goddamn fiancée. She was all I had; I was surviving," he snapped, and she pursed her lips. "You try losing the love of your life 'n tell me it doesn't screw with your head."

"I don't blame you, Thomas, and I'm not judging you." Her soft words didn't save her from his skeptical gaze. "I’m sorry that you went through that. You didn’t deserve a second of it. But now that I know this, I’m supposed to publish an article about it. My editor wants to make this front page news, but I want to kill the story because I got too close to you."

"If I was anybody else, would you even know about this?"

"I got this information from an interview." She spoke slowly, choosing her words carefully. "My source wants to remain anonymous, but it's sound enough to publish without someone else corroborating it."

"Are you tellin' me you're planning to publish an article about me bein' an alcoholic?" His voice was incredulous; he watched her as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. The look in her eyes was pained.

"I don't want to," she said. "I don't want to make this public because I care too much about you. I don't even know whether this would be a fair article for someone to write because I've lost all perspective on writing about you."

"So don't write the article," he said, and she could barely stand to look at the worry in his eyes. "'S all in the past. I'm under control now; 's not who I am. That was me at my worst."

"My editor already knows about the interview," Y/N said softly, and she winced at the dread she saw flash in his expression. "If I don't publish this, someone else will, and I'll lose my job in the process."

"Who did the interview this came from?"

"I did." Her words were tearful.

"Then you can still stop this," he said firmly. "Refuse to write about it. Don't send your boss the notes from the interview, or the tape, or whatever you've got."

"Thomas, it's already written."

Her words struck him silent, and all he could do for a moment was stare at her in disbelief.

"I'm trying to stop it from running. It's a rough draft, so my editor still needs me to—"

"I opened up to you about my fiancée's death, 'n you just turned around and wrote an article about it?" His quiet voice was heavy with hurt.

"It's not about that. It doesn't even mention Martha, and my editor doesn't know about any of that," she pleaded. "My source doesn’t know about her, so nobody else has to. But there are people out there trying to crush your campaign who know about your struggle with addiction. The information’s out there; it’s only a matter of time before someone goes public with it."

“So you figured you may as well fast-track destroyin’ my reputation? You wanna tell the whole world who I was in my weakest moments?”

“Wouldn’t you rather the story be written by someone sympathetic to what you’ve been through?” she asked. “If I withhold the source from my editor, she can’t run the story, I lose my job, and some asshole who wants to see you suffer casts this all in a much harsher light.”

“All I’m askin’ for is time,” he pleaded. “We’re in the middle of the primaries; if this comes out now, I’m through.”

“I’ve delayed it for as long as I can. My editor wants a final draft by the end of next week.”

“The end of next week,” he repeated softly, looking down at the counter. His teeth were gritted; his jaw tense, but he was eerily still. Y/N felt sick. “You asked me to come here to apologize and tell me you cared about me just so that you could, what, feel better about yourself before you stabbed me in the back?”

“I felt bad about how we left things.”

“And this is so much better.” His voice was harsh, thick with irony as he looked up at her. “You’re unbelievable, you know that? You have some goddamn audacity, trying to make peace with me knowing damn well you just wrote an article that’s gonna destroy everything I’ve been working for.”

“This isn’t going to kill your career. It won’t even kill your campaign; the primaries are almost over, and you’ve won. You’re the candidate; take your victory lap,” she said, and the source of the indignation in her voice was hard to pin down. “I’ve been writing articles for months in opposition to your presidential run, and you never cared. We even laughed about it. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that there’s finally some news that might make a dent.”

“This isn’t the same thing, and you know it,” he snapped, rising from his seat as his hand hit the countertop. His mug clattered against the surface.

“And what’s so different? I’ve said the harshest things about your career that I could think of; no matter how bad it got, you were still texting me on Friday nights asking me to come over.”

“This isn’t about my career. This is about me.” The words were firm, and he looked Y/N dead in the eye as he said them. “You don’t care about me; you care about climbin’ corporate ladders ‘n being national news. Nobody who really cared would be able to hear about what I’ve been through ‘n capitalize on it.”

“It’s not like that, Thomas, I—”

“Don’t call me,” he cut her off abruptly as he buttoned his coat. “Don’t text me, don’t talk to me, and don’t come near me. I’ve had enough of this goddamn game you’ve been playing, and I’m done having this conversation over and over again where I give you the benefit of the doubt n’ all you do is remind me that I’m expendable.”

“Wait, don’t—”

“I said I’m done,” he said. “And we’re done. You… you need to take a long, hard look at yourself before letting anybody else into your life.”

Y/N could barely speak with the lump building in her throat. She could barely breathe. Her eyes stung as she looked up at him, and she was afraid to move. All she could manage, her voice hoarse, was, “I’m sorry.”

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

When he walked out, he didn’t look back.

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