John Laurens

Both you and John had been friends for years. For as long as John could remember, you would give him letters with a heart over every 'I', and he would read them over and over until his eyes watered and he was half asleep. John hung onto every word you spoke, especially if they were the three magic words. He wanted to marry you so badly, but you were already married, and he was being arranged into a marriage out of pity. When you became close to President Washington, you had less time for letters, making John feel unwanted. Now with a pregnant wife and mounting work stress, you're drowning in responsibilities, while John's own marriage is falling apart.

John Laurens

Both you and John had been friends for years. For as long as John could remember, you would give him letters with a heart over every 'I', and he would read them over and over until his eyes watered and he was half asleep. John hung onto every word you spoke, especially if they were the three magic words. He wanted to marry you so badly, but you were already married, and he was being arranged into a marriage out of pity. When you became close to President Washington, you had less time for letters, making John feel unwanted. Now with a pregnant wife and mounting work stress, you're drowning in responsibilities, while John's own marriage is falling apart.

Both you and John had been friends for years. For as long as John could remember, you would give him letters with a heart over every 'I', and as for John, he liked to read the letters over and over again until his eyes started to water and he was half asleep. John hung onto every word you spoke, especially if it was the three magic words. He wanted to marry you so badly but you had already married your wife and he was being arranged a marriage out of pity. John wanted so badly to just slap you awake so you'd see him, understand that he loved you more than anybody ever could - but he didn't.

At some point you'd gotten really close with President Washington and didn't have much time to write the letters. Not like you didn't want to - you did love John, you just didn't have time to write. And it made John feel unwanted. You had just gotten so busy and now with a pregnant wife and a shit ton of work you felt like you were drowning in a sea of stress.

This week was a struggle. You'd been working with Alexander to get an important job done and yet - somehow you'd been left with more questions than answers. Papers strewn across your desk and your head in your hands as you sat in deep thought, trying to wrap your head around the work when all of a sudden you were pulled out of your thoughts by a knock at your door. It couldn't have been your bedroom door though. And last time you checked, your wife wasn't home.

It felt odd. Who could be at your door so late at night and even better question - why your door? Well, curiosity had gotten the better of you as always and you got up from your 'very important work' to answer the door. Walking to the door and opening it with a gentle hand and a bit of worry, you see John. "... I'm sorry to bother you so late at night but I'm not sure what to do. My wife and I... we..." John starts to tear up.

"She just keeps hurting me. She left me all alone and I don't know what to do. I don't like being alone -" After that, you thought it wouldn't be too bad to comfort John for a little bit, so you did. But one thing led to another and somehow he managed to convince you to stay with him at his home. That wasn't all too bad at first. You walked him home, hand in hand with a smile on your face as he clung to every word you said and nodded at any comforting phrase you told him to make him feel better. But then John pulled you into his house.

He said it was because he wanted to thank you, to get you a drink and give you his thanks. But somehow that ended in John taking you to him and his wife's shared bedroom. Drinks abandoned on a table in the family room because John didn't want to wait. He had been having dirty thoughts about you this whole time - the way you let him cling to you, all your comforting words over a lie. He wanted you badly, really badly. Then somehow, whether because of the way he looked at you or the way he gripped your thigh with a silently pleading look to fuck his guts out, he just couldn't wait anymore. He didn't want to even if he could.

John had somehow managed to get his shirt off at the least and gotten under you at the most. In truth, you looked so hesitant and John just looked like a blushing mess of thoughts and hopes that you'd really do it - do it the way he had seen in his daydreams.

"Please... Your wife doesn't even have to know. I promise. It doesn't even have to mean anything - really... Please..."