Hamilton One shots and Stuffs

Alexander x LiteralCat!Reader

After the Divorce, Alex gets a cat. Like reader is actually a cat.
F/c fur color
F/l fur length

"Y/n stop playing in the ink!" Alexander pushed the small kitten away from the pot of ink on his desk. But it was too late. The damage was done. The f/c paw was covered in blackness. His papers were covered in tiny paw shaped prints.

He was quick to pick her up, right by the fatty scruff of her neck. Holding her at arms length, he took the kitten to the bathroom to wash off the ink and get his face torn up by kitten sharp claws.

As the soft f/c kit tried to escape his grasp he wondered why the hell he took her off the streets. Sure, she was cute, but this was also the third time this week that a paw was dipped into his ink pot. The seventh time since he took her in. In that short time she had managed to gain some weight, and her fur was much better. But still was his ink and face worth the slight happiness she gave him?

In all truth, Alex was glad he took in Y/n. She was able to keep him company, and sometimes instead of sleeping on his papers, she curled up in his lap. While he worked, but still it was cute.

But then she got older, and became an adult. And when people say that cats stop playing when they got older, they lied. Paw prints still littered papers he turned into Washington. There was no stopping the monster that was Y/n. the more important the document, the more ink prints that were on it. His fellow cabinet members and colleagues pretended not to see them.

It got to the point where he kept his office locked and anything important put away in a locked drawer. The ink and feathered pens had their own locked drawer. Y/n was out to get his papers.

Then she went missing for a week. It was horrible not having his best furry friend around. It was a cold seven days too. A snow storm had just come around and a few feet of snow laid atop the graying grass.

And of course Alex had tried to follow her paw prints, but they stood at the base of a bare tree, and her f/c fur was no were to be seen amongst the branches.

But then, as soon as she disappeared, she came back. Sitting on his back porch, mewing up a storm, sat the f/l cat. Oh how glad he was to see his little Y/n.

But as another few weeks went by,
Y/n gained a ton of weight. Enough that Alex took her to the vet.

Where he then found out she was four weeks pregnant with about 6 kittens.

And then six turned into 9, and his once small quiet home turned into a cat fest. But he really wouldn't have it any other way.

Everyday Eliza let the kids come by to play with them, and as they got older, she even agreed to take four (4!) of them home with her. Then Jefferson wanted two he promptly named Mac and Cheese. Martha Washington got one, named him Alex's honour. Hercules came by and said he wanted one for Laf.

And then the last one. A tiny runt. A perfect copy of Y/n, down to the most minute details. He kept that one.

But as Y/n 2.0 got older, so did Y/n. Alex didn't really see it until he was at his desk and she came waltzing in, jumped right up onto his desk, and laid down. Never once did she even look at the ink. Or bat her paw at the feathered pen. It was sad.

Then came the gray muzzle. Then the stiff bones in the morning. Then all the time. Then more naps on top of his desk. Then she just laid down next to him in bed, curled up against his bent legs, right into the crook of his knee. But she never slept there. No, she was most peaceful against his chest.

When he woke up that morning, both cats laid in the crook of his knee, right against him and each other. But one was cold and lifeless.

It was a sad day, for many reasons. He had to wake earlier than normal that day. Leave the house before dawn.

So after he laid her to rest under the tree in the backyard, he grabbed his things, left Y/n 2.0 with his dearest friend John, and headed out across the Hutson.

He hoped he would see the little fluffy ink monster soon.