Hamilton Oneshots [DISCONTINUED(?)]

Girl All The Bad Guys Want- John Laurens x Reader

A/n: based off the song Girl All The Bad Guys Want by Bowling for Soup
Reader gender: female
Warnings: swearing, domestic violence
Word count: 1480
Au: modern

I glanced over at her again. She was seated on a bar stool, a glass of whiskey in front of her. She was surrounded on either side by some burly dudes with mustaches and leather jackets. Dudes who probably owned a few motorcycles and a season pass to the racetrack. Dudes who probably watched wrestling every night before coming here, to the bar, where they would sit next to her and hassle her about when she would finally go on a date with them.
She was gorgeous. Legs covered by fishnet leggings that had tears here and there. Her black tank top was covered by a leather jacket of her own and her short-cut, rockstar style hair was dyed a vibrant f/c. Her studded stilettos looked like they could kill a man; just like her.
"Yo, John!" My friend, Hercules, snapped his fingers in front of my face to get my attention.
"Hm? What?" I asked lazily.
"We asked you who you keep staring at." Alexander explained.
"I'm telling you, it's her! Um, Y/n, wasn't it?" Lafayette asked.
"Yeah..." I muttered, blood rushing to my cheeks.
"Dude, no offense, but look at the guys she hangs out with. They ride motorcycles." Alex emphasized.
"Yeah, you are like the nicest nice guy ever." Herc laughed.
"You know how girls will take their best guy friends out to the bar with them to be like a bodyguard even though that friend secretly likes them?" Laf explained.
"Yeah, yeah, I get it." I muttered.
"You're the friend." He finished.
I sighed, "I got that. Thanks, Laf."
I glanced over to her to see her pulling out her phone and holding it to her ear. The bar was a good distance from our table so I couldn't see what she was saying. I watched as she got up, apologized to the men and walked towards the door, right past our table.
"Babe, just wait a second, I'm going outside. Yes I'm at the bar, I thought you knew that? How many times do I have to tell you, they're just friends?" I caught glimpses of her conversation as she walked past our table and out the door of the bar.
"Sounds like there's trouble in paradise." Hercules took a sip of his drink.
"She has a boyfriend?" I asked, disappointment lacing my words.
"Sure sounds like it." Alex said.
After another round of drinks, the guys who had been sitting with Y/n got up and went their separate ways. I stayed and drank with my friends for another hour, despite my mind constantly drifting to Y/n.
As it neared midnight, we grabbed separate cabs and headed out to our apartments. I stared out the window as we drove, taking in the lights of New York City. As we came to the apartment circle, I noticed someone sitting on the curb with a small suitcase next to them. Getting closer, I saw that it was Y/n. One of her eyes was swollen shut and blood was streaming down her face from several cuts: one above her left eyebrow and another on her cheek. She was crying.
"Stop here." I commanded.
The taxi driver stopped and I handed him a ten dollar bill. I got out and walked the short distance to where she sat.
"Are you okay?" I asked hesitantly.
She jumped when she heard me and quickly wiped her face, smearing blood and tears.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Hey, didn't I see you at the bar earlier?" She asked shakily, trying to stop her tears.
I tried to contain my excitement from the fact that 'oh my god she actually noticed me' and answered, "Yeah, I think so. My name's John."
"Y/n." She extended a scarred hand to shake.
I gingerly took it and glanced over at her suitcase. "So, can I ask what's with the suitcase and... crying?" I asked awkwardly.
"My boyfriend." She sighed, "Sometimes he gets annoyed when I hang out with my friends late. I have this suitcase prepacked for when that happens. I usually go to my friends house," she nodded to the apartment behind her, "but she isn't here."
"Does he do this often?" I asked softly.
She nodded mutely.
I felt so bad for her. She always was so tough. When people asked where her bruises or cuts or scars were from, she would talk about a huge fight she got in where her opponent landed a few hits, but she won every time. I guess she was just making stories.
"I live just down the block if you want to stay with me. I don't mean to interfere, but you really shouldn't stay with him. You shouldn't be with someone who hurts you."
"I know but..." she sighed, her eyes filling up with tears once again, "he's just always been there for me." She hesitated, "He loves me."
"You sure about that?" I asked cautiously, I didn't want to overstep my boundaries.
She began sobbing, burying her head in my shoulder. I awkwardly wrapped my arms around her torso and pulled her closer to my body as she threw her arms around my neck. I eventually eased into the embrace as I did my best to soothe her.
After a few minutes, she sobered up and pulled away, wiping her eyes. "You really wouldn't mind if I stayed with you? At least until my friend comes back?" She asked shyly.
"Of course!" I exclaimed, standing and offering her my hand which she took. I grabbed her suitcase and led her to my apartment, my other hand still intertwined with hers. "We'll go back tomorrow and grab the rest of your stuff, okay?"
"Okay." She said quietly.
We soon arrived at my apartment and I got her settled in my guest bedroom.
"You can afford a two bedroom apartment? In New York?" She asked, astounded.
"My parents have quite the sum of money." I admitted, rubbing the back of my neck in embarrassment. "Rice trading, believe it or not."
"Nice." She said appreciatively as she began unpacking clothes into the dresser.
"I'm gonna pack it in for the night but, there's food in the fridge, a bathroom connected to your room and I'm on the other side of the flat if you need anything." I began to exit the room when her voice stopped me.
"John?" She asked.
"Yeah?"
"Thank you for... everything. Most people I know would have laughed in my face if I told them I was being... abused. But you didn't only listen to me, you offered me your home, your food. I can't have asked for a better person to find me crying on the side of the road." She laughed.
"Of course." I responded, "That reminds me; we should get you cleaned up."
I headed to the bathroom and pulled out a first aid kit which I set down next to her on the bed. Sitting down next to her, I pulled out a few disinfectant wipes and carefully rubbed at her cuts. She flinched at the pain, but kept quiet.
"I'll go get you an ice pack for your eye." I told her as I finished cleaning and bandaging her cuts.
As I came back with the ice pack, I noticed her staring blankly at her ringing phone.
"It's him." She said quietly.
"May I?" I asked, holding out my hand for her phone.
She placed her phone in my hand and I have her the ice pack in return. The caller ID read 'Jonathan' with a heart next to it.
"Hello?" I asked, holding the phone to my ear and leaving the room.
"Who the hell are you?" He slurred, obviously drunk.
"A friend of Y/n's." I replied curtly.
"Well put her on! I called her, not you!" He yelled.
"She doesn't want to talk to you." I growled.
"Just put her on the damn phone!"
"Jonathan, I'm gonna tell you this once, nicely. Stay away from Y/n."
"Oh so you're her protector now?" He sneered.
"She doesn't need a protector. I told you: I'm her friend. Better than anything you could have offered her."
"Who the hell do you think you are?!" He screamed.
"Don't worry, you'll get to see plenty of me when I come tomorrow to get Y/n's stuff and hopefully kick your sorry ass." With that, I hung up and headed black to Y/n's room. "How's that eye doing?" I asked, handing her her phone.
"Oh, it's fine. Thanks for taking that for me." She nodded to her phone.
"Yeah, of course. I wouldn't want you to have to sit there and listen to that jackass trying to win you back." I shrugged.
"Thanks John. We should both probably be getting some rest. I'll see you tomorrow?"
"That you will."
"Night, John."
"Goodnight, Y/n."