#rivingtons

[ozkar-krapo]

•••• musique jaune ••••

V/A

"Born bad vol.3"

(LP. Born Bad rcds. 1986 / rec. 1956-64) [US]

[miss-rori]

“Maybe In Another Life” Abraham Woodhull x Reader

Masterlist

Request for @the-brilliant-questioner with prompts 3 and 19 (will be in bold)

Warnings: I think just angst 

The ride to New York was long and quiet. You were out with your ‘husband’ to carry out important business. You remembered the first time you met him as if it were yesterday.

War was a dangerous game that America was losing at, causing distress and tension among Patriots. There was no room for errors and Caleb Brewster knew it. You and he go way back. He suggested to help his dear friend, Major Tallmadge, to add an important asset to the spy ring; A smart partner for Culper. Though he proved to be useful, he tended to be a bit reckless.

Tallmadge seemed a bit skeptical but with convincing, he agreed to Brewster putting you in to help Culper. Of course, he had every right to question why you would be trustworthy enough to know who Culper was but that subsided, knowing there was more at stake if he didn’t agree.

You, quickly being sent to Setauket, found the man of interest. He had been aware that you were coming and introduced himself as Abraham Woodhull. Though you hated to admit it, he was rather courageous for taking on the double life. No one fit the role better, being the son of Tory Judge Woodhull. Things were a bit awkward between the two of you at first because anyone could see you meet up and get the wrong idea, but that didn’t last long. A beautiful friendship blossomed out of the weird situation. A couple months in, you started to wish something else would grow from that friendship.

Before you knew it, an officer stopped to question Abraham. Were you really on the outskirts of New York already? Thinking seemed to really pass the time.

“State your name and business,” the redcoat rehearsed monotonously. The question was just protocol, nothing more. The two of you had already talked about this ahead of time and were fully prepared.

Abraham gave a soft charismatic smile, “Abraham and [Y/N] Woodhull, sir. My wife and I have a family gathering to attend with permission from Major Hewlett.” He whipped out a parchment and handed it over. Through your smile, your body was fighting itself. Between the flutter of your heart at the sound of ‘[Y/N] Woodhull’ and the confusion of how he got a letter from Hewlett, you were not sure what to focus on.

A moment rolled by as his eyes scanned the note. “Alright. You’re free to go,” he announced. Abraham nodded in respect as the two of you progressed into step two of the mission. Now that you got past the authorities, it was time to do some damage.

The hunt to find a place to stay didn’t take long at all, a place titled Rivington’s proved to make the cut. As you sat down at a secluded table in the corner, there was a matter to discuss.

“Since I don’t have my money on me I can pay you back when we return,” you reasoned in a low volume.

Abraham protested immediately. “There’s no need. We have to share a room,” he informed with a shake of his head.

You raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“We’re posing as lovers, right? We can’t let people think differently,” he explained in a whisper but you scoffed.

“That’s not necessary, none of these people know that. Only the guard at the border,” you fierce eyes met his.

“And if he comes here,” he questioned.

“He’s too busy guarding the entrance,” you countered.

Abraham did not want to admit defeat by any means. “We need to be safe. Just in case.”

You thought about it for a moment before sighing. At least he was trying to be cautious for once. “Fine.”

Both of you got up and he led the way to the bar in order to speak to the employee. The man running to bar seemed to stand out to you, always keeping to himself yet having his calculating eyes on everyone. A smart and discreet man. Your mind immediately told you to be careful around him, in case he mentally noted you and Abraham.

Renting out a room was no big deal. Abraham asked for a dozen hard boiled eggs and the man complied with no issue in the matter. You knew they weren’t really for eating purposes but the man hardly batted an eye at the request. With a simple thank you, you were off to the shared room.

Being the last one through the door, you closed it behind you. “So, do you plan on explaining how on earth you got a letter from Hewlett,” you inquired with a snarky undertone. He sat down at the desk against the wall, completely blowing off your attitude.

“I told you I’d find a way for us to get across,” Abraham mumbled as he set up his little station consisting of a small stack of mini intelligence papers. The eggs, quill, a burning candle, and kitchen pliers.

You sat on the bed the two of you had to share. “There is something you’re not telling me,” you pointed out. You had the intention of continuing your lecture but the employee from before opened the door, followed by another man.

He saw you laying on the bed with your arms crossed and Abraham heating up an egg with the pliers and candle. “Pardon, uh, this isn’t- your room is the next one,” the employee informed the man. The man turned around and left, the more conservative worker going to follow. He began to close the door but stopped once more. Giving Abraham a perplexed look. “Is there something wrong with the eggs I got you?”

Abraham stared at him for a moment, “No. I just like them warm,” he sputtered out awkwardly. The man then left with a slightly amused yet light smile. That was probably the first time he’s seen something so absurd. You internally groaned. Good job, Abraham.

Once the room was now [rovate and it was only the two of you, you spoke up. “Way to go,” you scoffed.

That night, the two of you slept in the same bed with your backs turned to each other. You had even offered to sleep on the floor but he wouldn’t have that.

The sun’s rays pushed through the thin curtains, invading your eyelids. When you shifted, you felt a force in front of you move back. Curious, you opened your eyes to see the cabbage farmer you traveled with. You were cuddled into his chest with his arm around your waist. Your stomach dropped but your heart soared.

Your body flew from under the sheets as you stood up, unintentionally waking Abraham. Waking him up was the least of your concerns. All that mattered was you were still on your shift and you were no longer in his arm arms. As one would imagine, you were quick to dress yourself.

“Get up, Woodhull. We have a long day ahead of us,” you said as you fixed your dress around you. You did everything you could to shake off what happened, wanting to stay professional. He surely wouldn’t like you anyway, right? It was a long shot.

The day was a total waste. Even though you and Abraham had split up to cover more ground, you both turned up empty-handed. It was no secret that Abraham didn’t have as much patience as you did, but he was causing yours to wear thin. He had a tendency to take his anger out on others and that is exactly what he was doing.

“We're not going to win a damn war by being useless,” he muttered the moment you closed the door to your shared room. You turned to face him, seeing that he was angrily shoving off his coat.

You were tired of being talked down to. He might not have meant it to be hurtful, but it did make you feel guilty. If only you had been better at your job and found something to work with. “And you’re not going to win it by complaining now are we,” you shot back. You knew you shouldn’t have said it but it was too late to take it back.

He went quiet for only a moment, carefully processing your words. No matter how many times he mulled over them in the few seconds of silence, he could only assume that you intended to harm him and immediately took offense. Perhaps that wasn’t rational of him to think, but it seemed fair at the time. “And who are you to judge me for that? You should hear yourself,” his voice was filled with venom. He didn’t understand why he was so angry. The words may be directed at you but the anger wasn’t, that much he did know.

You turned your eyes to him and when he saw your cold gaze, he knew he was in for it now. “What did I ever do to you, Abraham? I’d like to know what I did to deserve this treatment,” you paused. Part of you was expecting an answer but the part that wanted to justify yourself took over when he kept his mouth shut for once. “Oh yeah, I remember. I took a possibly permanent break from my life to help an ungrateful spy whom I’ve never met before, only to be judged for something neither of us can help. Now, are you going to be harder on yourself than necessary, or are you going to pull it together and keep going?” The further your speech went, the softer your tone became.

Abraham ran a hand through his hair, eyes meeting the ground with a guilty stare. He mumbled something under his breath and you felt you deserved to know at this point. You were about to ask him to speak up but he beat you to it. “Why am I not good enough for you?” By his tone change at the end of the sentence, you knew he regretted saying it.

You blinked a few times. “Pardon?”

“I’m not the kind of person people fall in love with,” the farmer trailed off. You had no clue he felt that way. After all this time spent imagining a moment of confession, you had never expected to feel this small and ashamed. It all made sense now; The way he came up with the cover of you being his ‘wife’, insisting on sharing a room, waking up tangled together… You had shared the same delicate secret through all of this. This secret wouldn’t help Washington win the war but it could give you peace of mind.

Your posture softened and you took a step closer to him, which seemed to surprise him. “Where did you learn that from?” Your voice was now delicate as if you were afraid of scaring him off.

The farmer sighed. “[Y/N], I’m just me,” he responded lowly.

“You say it like it’s a bad thing,” you immediately said. Your feet took you to the now occupied spot in front of him. At this, his stare shot up at you once more, a look of shock thrown your way.

He swallowed the dryness that began to take over his throat. ‘What do you mean by that,” he asked hesitantly. You rolled your eyes scoffing at how blind to the situation he was. There was only one way you could mean that with the context given, yet he failed to see it.

“I mean,” you began as your fingertips hesitantly trailed themselves up his arm, “you’re the kind of person I love. We’re supposed to be colleagues so I didn’t say anything. But Abraham, you’re the only one I would continuously stick my neck out for like this. Your safety is my main concern and I care for you far too much to have your protection compromised. If you mean what you said, I understand but-”

“I didn’t mean it, [Y/N],” he cut you off before you could ramble on and put yourself down any further. This was a side of you he had never seen before but he didn’t shy away, afraid that he might never see it again. Silence took over once more but this was more comfortable than before. The two of you didn’t need words to communicate, all you needed was your beating hearts and each other.

You couldn’t process this moment completely but that didn’t convince you to stop moving closer, body taking you where it wanted to go. The only thing you wanted was Abraham, not to finish the mission and return to Caleb like you knew would happen if everything went according to plan. He was the only pleasant thing on your mind.

Slightly chapped and warm lips were pressed to your forehead. The spy didn’t wish to see the distressed look on your face that you hadn’t even noticed you were making, it made his heart sick. Was he the reason behind it?

“What’s on your mind?” His hand cupped your right cheek, thumb idly brushing the smooth skin there. As he waited for your answer to put an end to your pause, his rustic eyes glimmered with worry.

You sighed before responding. “You know this can’t last forever, this partnership. We either fail or we don’t. One could lead to death and the other would lead to Caleb taking me back to continue my normal line of work.”

You could see his mental gears turning. He was trying to find some form of loophole. “Let's say we find anything, yeah? We head back to Setauket and you stay around, problem solved,” he reasoned but you would not accept that answer.

“No,” you said immediately, “what’s the point if we’re not free? I’m sorry, Abraham, but the revolution comes first. I do want to be with you, but you also have a life and a family. All I have is the songs of liberty, I’m not throwing that away.”

He opened his mouth but silenced his protests, knowing you were right. He was a married man with a song, and you were a single woman at work. Not to mention, you were of marrying age. It all started to make sense to him. “That’s why you do it. Without freedom, you’d be forced to settle down into marriage no matter what.”

“Loveless marriage isn’t something I’ll wait around for,” you nodded.

Without anything word, he expressed his comfort in the form of a tight embrace. His arms snaked around your waist and yours around his neck. You closed your eyes, taking in his warmth and truly being at peace with him for once. Everything you had been holding back could now be exposed without a moment’s hesitation.

A few moments had passed before he loosened his hold on you, looking down at you with an underlying need for you. “Let us enjoy the time we have together,” Abraham whispered. He moved in to kiss you and you complied. All you could think of currently was ’finally!’

The kiss was sweet, as gentle as a flower. Even with an action so soft, you conveyed your deep emotions into it. Within a second, your lips lowly parted with reluctance. He was on his way to turn up the heat with a more passionate kiss but you stopped him, grabbing his shoulders to get your message across. You knew the two of you couldn’t continue, even if you wanted to (which you didn’t because you had stronger morals that overruled it.)

“Abraham, remember that you’re married,” you whispered. His look turns helpless but he knew you were right.

The spy nodded. There were other ways to enjoy each other’s company. “Come then,” he said and led you to the bed. You followed and you two laid down next to one another.

One of his arm found your waist once more, prompting your next move of nuzzling into his side. A slight frown stayed on your face, knowing this would most likely be the last night with him. You would head back to Setauket tomorrow, back to his lover. And there was no way you would sneak around behind Mary’s back, she deserved better than that.

Abraham spared you one last glance before closing his eyes. “Maybe in another life,” he muttered into his hair.

“Maybe in another life,” you repeated back to him before retiring for the night.

The check at the edge of town was dramatically more weary than the one previously. Not only would you be in Setauket before the day was to end, but this was your second time in the line up. Abraham had somehow been missing the egg with your intelligence and you sprinted after him the entire way back to the tavern you stayed in to search for it. The search had led to something greater, something that was solid enough to send you back to Caleb. Another potential spy. That was a good thing, but the ring would no longer need your assistance there and you would be stationed back to the post you had beforehand.

Not a single word was said until you reached the outskirts of Setauket where you were to meet Caleb.

“This is it,” Abraham paused, “I’ll write to you.” Those words warmed your heart in a bittersweet way. All least he would think of you.

“See you around,” you said,  voice audibly on the verge of cracking.

In the distance, you saw the familiar hat-decorated figure. You hurried to jump off the carriage and speed walk away, knowing you might not have the strength to leave if you didn’t. A forced smiled graced your lips as you heard the horses take off. You had just let the love of you life slip away, yet you had little to no choice. You vowed to never forget him, to always cherish what could have been.

[rastronomicals]

The Rivingtons

[aardwolfpack]

Currently stuck in my head.

[samythekay]

#papaomowmow #surfinbird #birdistheword #trashmen #rivingtons

[lostjohnny]

The Rivingtons

Mama Oom Mow Mow

[wawalu]

the Trashmen. ‘Surfing Bird’. [Rivingtons mash-up cover @  ‘American Bandstand’, 1963, w. introduction + interview].

[wawalu]

the Rivingtons. ‘Papa Oom Mow Mow’.