one of the biggest reasons why alfred is so smiley, goofy, happy-go-lucky, devil-may-care during the 19th through 21st centuries, (besides deciding since before 1776 that he was going to be completely contrarian to arthur in his outlooks) is that he’s been through the wringer for the past hundred years already. give the guy a break!
spending your formative years (or the country equivalent of a ‘childhood’, anyway) educating yourself deeply on politics, fighting for independence, then fighting again to keep your nation together, and then trying to expand throughout the rest of the continent, while dealing with crazy winters and starvation and swathes of diseases… well.
alfred grew up with the expectation of perfection under england, and even after becoming free he still had to raise himself by the bootstraps. help create a government with his people, for his people, and hope and pray to whatever deity was out there that america could survive. and those first 100 years certainly were not sunshine and rainbows — pictures of alfred’s youth show everything except smiles. he wears melancholy expressions that don’t suit his face.
battling for your place on the world stage is hard enough, but to become a self-made, global superpower on top of it? alfred grows in spades, and by the time the industrial revolution comes around, and his house is the most bustling on the entire planet, and the gold rush comes and goes— that constant work and isolationism has paid off. he loosens up a little. he can smile now. relax a little! eat in excess knowing there will always be food on the table.
that’s when he finally gets to live out the years of childlike ease he never truly got to indulge in: to laugh and be merry without a care in the world. momentary ill spell during the great depression aside, the great wars later only solidify america’s place as the strongest in the world. the other countries wouldn’t dare admit it, but alfred’s self-proclaimed epithet of ‘hero’ is not without cause and reason, and not without hard proof. (and besides, he deserves a little gloating after all this time, doesn’t he?)
ivan had threatened his status in the hierarchy for a while there, and 45 years of foolhardy, workaholic america stepped out of the shadows again. but again, alfred surpasses the literal and proverbial soviet wall. and this time it isn’t just the world he has in his palms, but outer space, too — he has the moon and the stars and a damn space station.
finally, on top— finally, he doesn’t have to battle tooth and nail just to survive. instead, maybe he’ll set a whoopie cushion on françois’ chair at the next meeting, or order everything off the mcdonald’s menu tonight just ‘cause he can, or maybe even get matt to film him doing some outrageously ridiculous parkour—
that’s the beauty of it: it’s enjoyable to let go, act as immature and carefree as you want, knowing you’re at the top of the food chain. the others have gotten used to boy scout america, to the silly superhero alfred — they’ve definitely forgotten how scary and smart and cutthroat and frankly bloodthirsty he is when he gets serious. the america that lies asleep beneath the surface, the sleeping dog that you’d better hope you don’t wake up.
and, hell— his people chose him. his people left the other nations for him. left their homelands to stay at his house. that’s a testament to the unshakeable empire he’s built up, right? the others should be following his lead.
so he’ll act as he pleases, screw all the manners and customs and old-world european way of doing things — the freedom-loving rebel bastard that he still is, deep down.
al’s earned it, after all!
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more spicy chapter for the spy AU please? 🤏
"Holy shit," Gil groaned as he flopped into the bed loudly. "What a day."
It had been a hell of a mission, from start to finish. There was some rescuing, some extrication, some very narrow escapes. But at least it was completed. All they had to do was actually get back home to report in. But that could wait until tomorrow.
"I agree," Thena sighed heavily, lying herself down next to him more delicately. They didn't usually make stops after a mission, since the only real safety for them was back at base. But this stop was necessary to avoid the suspicion of boarding a flight right then and there.
Gil stretched his arm out, slithering it under Thena's neck. Other than that, he remained on his back.
Thena rolled over, keeping her head cushioned on his arm and shoulder and tucking herself into his side as well. She inhaled as his head tilted, hovering closer to hers. "We said we wouldn't."
"Oh, right," Gil mumbled, even as he pressed his lips to her forehead.
"We did," she repeated as she leaned into him more. His arm moved and his fingers toyed with a few strands of her hair. "We did."
"We did," he whispered as he rolled over too, nuzzling her face until his lips could find hers.
"We promised," she whimpered into the kiss, even as she grasped two handfuls of his shirt. She straightened her spine and her legs, pressing herself closer to him.
"Did we?" he inhaled against her cheek before moving his lips to her neck. He rolled even further, until he could lie over her. He flicked open a button of her dress. "Why did we do that?"
"Because," Thena inhaled as he worked on two more buttons before running his finger along the edge of her bra. She wasn't often in civilian clothes.
"Because?" he prompted, enjoying taking his time and burying his face in her cleavage.
"The job," she uttered simplistically, her considerable mental faculties leaving her as Gil dragged his teeth along the inside of her breasts.
They said they couldn't be physical anymore because of the job. It could interfere with their effectiveness, and complicate their partnership, something upon which their lives depended.
That one instance in the garage had been a mistake.
"We're off the clock, Ghost," Gil chuckled into her shoulder as he moved his hands to work from the bottom up, slipping up her dress. "If you want me to stop, just tell me."
It would make good sense. It would be better for the mission, and for all future missions. It would be probably be better for their work partnership, too. Certainly their handler would feel better about not having to suspect that their feelings were more than professional.
"Talk to me, Thena," he whispered, pulling away from her just to look her in the eye.
How she loved him. She loved him in every cover, every mission, every rare instance in between when they were just Gil and Thena, partners since the beginning. She loved everything about Gil, and she always had.
It was only recently that she had added his body to the list of things she loved most about him.
Gil moaned as she pulled him into another kiss, firmer than before. He wrapped his arms around her to truly hold her, his hands sliding over her.
Thena gasped as he pulled her dress up the rest of the way. His fingers were deft and firm, immediately slipping into her underwear. Gil never wasted time when there was a mission at hand. Her hands closed into fists, rumpling his shirt hopelessly.
"Easy," he rumbled into her ear, his voice low and rough. He stroked and circled his fingers, coaxing her pleasure out of her. "Just relax, sweetheart--I got'cha."
Thena inhaled sharply and let it out, although it trembled the whole way. Her whole body started trembling as he circled a particular spot, his thumb pushing against her most tender nerve centre as leverage. She stared up at the ceiling, clinging to him as if she were at sea. "Gil!"
He pulled up hard, keeping his hand still as she writhed against him gently. He was far from done, but he considered this a necessary step. He bent his head to kiss her cheek, "that's my girl."
Thena tilted her head, whimpering again as she felt him pull his fingers out of her. She didn't give in to pleasure often. She didn't consider herself someone who needed it often, either. But the things Gil could make her feel...
"You good?" he asked, their voices soft, their breathing mixing together in the silent room.
She nodded, her chest heaving. Gil laid over her again, having gotten his belt undone and his pants out of the way just enough. They didn't have the luxury of ripping all their clothes off and making tender love. Nor could they afford to fuck like wild animals rutting against each other. What they could afford was a quick relief of tension in a whole world against the two of them.
Gil kissed her as he pushed in. She groaned; his fingers were already thicker than she was used to, and he was much, much thicker than that. He peppered her face with kisses, "you okay?"
She nodded, clawing at his back as she adjusted to him being fully inside of her. This was actually the first time they were being connected in this particular way. Her head felt like it was floating off her body, her vision was starry.
"S'okay, just breathe," he whispered in her ear.
She did so, slowing her breathing until her startled muscles could relax. She turned her head, seeking his lips again. He gave them, and she demanded his tongue as well.
Gil moved gently, never one to risk hurting her in any way. He nuzzled her cheek, both of them breathing for their lives. They had both done underwater training, could hold their breath for upwards of five minutes. But they were panting for air.
Thena gripped the muscles in his back as his hips met hers. She tried not to sink into the feeling of it and keep her mind alert. But the feeling of Gil inside her, a heat like nothing else filling her. The warm, solid weight of him surrounding her and the musky scent of him mixing with the scent of their intimacy. She felt dizzy.
"Thena," Gil uttered, sounding more strained as he moved somewhat faster. He nipped at her neck, feeling around for her pulse until he could pay it proper attention.
"Gil," she gasped in response, her voice high and stringy--fluttery. Everything felt fluttery right now. She wasn't a fluttery person. Her codename was not Butterfly. But her whole body trembled as she felt him swell even further. "Gil!"
He pressed his lips to her cheek again, and she could feel him smiling against her skin. "Sorry, you sound really cute right now."
Thena felt herself clench around him reflexively. She blushed.
Encouraged, Gil picked up speed even more. His arms dragged over the bed sheets, curling around her protectively, hoarding what was his. His breathing came faster and rougher, his leverage angle changed.
Thena sought his mouth again, hungrily this time. Her legs slithered around his and her hips rose to meet him halfway. She was much closer than she anticipated, and probably closer than he thought she was. "Gil, yes, so close."
What few words she did have to offer seemed enough for him. He moved his hand to grip a handful of her behind, "any time now, hon."
Thena bit into her bottom lip as he continued to push and push her closer. She was a seasoned spy, and there was little she couldn't endure. But she would give up absolutely anything to come right now.
Gil let her dig her nails into him as she came around him, her whole body shaking as she gripped him. He groaned into her hair splayed over the sheets as he followed, spilling into her unabashedly. He smashed their lips together again before reeling himself in, making their kisses more gentle again. He held her cheeks, looking for signs she would never speak aloud. "You okay?"
Thena opened her eyes, blinking up at the ceiling again before Gil moved into her line of sight. She was still seeing stars, everything hazy and dreamlike. Her biochemical addled brain sang Gil's praises as she looked at him, screaming at her to yearn for him.
He kissed her again, their lips moving languidly. He still held her like she was fragile, and he was still lying over her like she was all his.
She was, in ways she couldn't afford. But she clung to him, even as he pulled out of her, even as he laid down beside her just to pull her closer once he was comfortable. Her hands sought his skin like she was burned and he was the salve.
Physical pleasure was too dangerous for the brain to endure.
Thena sighed as she settled against his chest. She was far too exhausted to move, and she had no desire as Gil pressed his lips to the top of her head and exhaled deeply. She rose and fell with the rhythm of his chest, as if bobbing along at sea on a raft of him.
"I've got you, Thena," Gil mumbled before dropping off into sleep, his fingers entangled with hers and his arm around her shoulders.
She nuzzled into his chest, just this once, to indulge her silly, love stricken brain. He had her in ways he didn't even know about--ways she could never really tell him. But just for tonight, she could add her body to that list.
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