Delete That Immediately (Thomas Jefferson x Reader)
This is my first modern AU! I typically write all my stories in the correct time period, but I figured “deleting” something wouldn’t be applicable to any 1700s-1800s scenario. Enjoy! Brace yourself for the fluff :)
You finally set the last small box on your dresser. Finally, you were completely moved in. You had just recently bought a house with your boyfriend, Thomas Jefferson, and had spent the last two days moving all of your personal belongings and furniture. All of the large items and daily necessities were unpacked and in their position, and the only thing you had left to go through was the small box of knick knacks and personal items. You grabbed the scissors sitting on the bed to split the tape sealing the final box, when you heard footsteps coming up the staircase.
You turned to see Thomas, casually dressed in a black tank top and grey sweatpants, lugging a small box of books with him.
“This should be the last one.” he said, while placing the box next to a small shelf, designated for books. “We’re completely done.”
“That’s hard to believe.” you stated, remembering how enormous the pile of boxes looked in the moving van. “I can’t believe this is our home now.”
“Are you not happy with it?”
“No, no. It’s just that we just took a pretty big step together.” you explained.
Thomas crept up behind you and wrapped his arms over your shoulders, before planting a kiss on the top of your head.
“I’m glad that we did.” he mumbled into your hair.
You stood there for awhile. Just enjoying each other’s presence and coming to terms with the fact that you had made an enormous commitment.
“You know,” Thomas suddenly started, “this is our place now.”
He moved his head down to gently nibble on the top of your ear.
“We can do whatever we want in it.” he suggested as his hands slowly moved over your breasts.
You slid your way out of his arms.
“Not now, I still have a box to unpack. I’d like to get this done and over with, babe.”
“Maybe tonight, then?”
“Tonight.” you said with a definite tone.
His phone suddenly buzzed in his pocket. He reached back and grabbed it. An annoyed look fell over his face.
“Who else but James. I have to respond to this.”
He laid down on the freshly-made bed, propped his head up on the pillow, and began typing away. You sighed. Thomas could never seem to catch a break.
You then returned back to the small box. Most of it was just small, decorative pieces, candles, or pages of sheet music. Then, in the very bottom corner of the box, was another small container. You gently removed it, before cutting it open with the scissors. Upon opening the flaps of the box, you immediately recognized the items. Small toys and other memories of your childhood. You smiled as you went through all the items. Your mother must have snuck these in while you were busy packing. You then came across a small, wooden jewelry box. As you lifted the lid, you saw the small, light pink bows your mother had made for you as a child, that you had worn when you were just a baby. You looked at them, turning them over and remembering all of the fond memories of your mother getting your hair ready in the morning before some special event, tying your favorite pink ribbons in.
“What’ve you got there?” Thomas interrupted.
“Ah, nothing.” you said, turning to face him.
He had already returned to texting James, and in concentration, ran his fingers through his abundance of brown, frizzy, natural hair.
An idea popped into your head.
He looked up.
“Mind if I put these in your hair?” you asked as you extended the box of ribbons out to him.
He laughed, and returned to typing.
You walked to the bed, sitting down next to him, still holding the box.
“Come on, please?”
He looked up at you again, giving you an “are-you-serious” look.
“It’ll be fun, come on.” you tried again.
“The things I do for love.”
You cheered, climbed onto the bed and straddled him. Sitting gently on abdomen, you began to separate his hair into segments.
“It’s kind of hard for me to finish my conversation with James while you’re on top of me.”
“Oh shut up,” you responded, as you clipped the first bow into place.
“Just pretend I’m not even here.”
“That’s pretty difficult.” he said, placing his hand on your hip.
You continued placing the bows in his hair, trying not to laugh as he held an “I-can’t-believe-I’m-actually-putting-up-with-this” expression.
You snapped the final bows into his hair, then sat back to admire your work.
You clasped your hand over your mouth to keep the giggles from escaping as you witnessed a very grumpy man adorning a myriad of light pink ribbons in his hair. He looked like a show cat.
“How do I look?”
You, still trying (and failing) to hold back your laughter waltzed over to the dresser, picked up your hand mirror, and handed it to him. Upon viewing himself, he immediately sat up, causing his phone to slide off of his lap.
You couldn’t take it anymore. You finally succumbed to your laugh attack, with tears forming in your eyes.
You watched as Thomas was rotating his head, still looking at himself in the mirror, trying to take in the entirety of what you had just done to his hair.
“(Y/N), I look like a Christmas Bush.”
You, still laughing, climbed back onto the bed.
“I think you look handsome.” you giggled.
As he continued to check himself out, you noticed the phone laying on the sheets of the bed.
You grinned at an idea.
You slowly slid your hand across the sheets, and seized the phone before Thomas could notice. Then, in a flash, you whipped open the camera app and took a picture.
It was a fantastic picture, with your boyfriend seeming to be admiring himself in the hand mirror with little girl bows laced in his hair.
Unfortunately for you, the phone made a camera click as you shot the picture.
Jefferson immediately directed his attention to you, realizing what had just been done.
“Delete that immediately.”
You giggled, scooched off the bed and ran down the hall.
“DO NOT SEND THAT TO ANYONE!” Thomas yelled, hot on your heels.
You opened up his conversation with James, adding the photo attachment. Before you could hit send, two arms enveloped your waist and lifted you off the ground.
You let out a playful squeal as Thomas carried you down the hallway and back into the bedroom. He then tossed you onto the bed, and started wrestling you.
“Give it up, (Y/N)!”
“No!” you laughed as he straddled you and pinned your arms down.
“Come one, hand it over,” he said, gesturing to the phone with his eyes.
Your stomach hurt from laughing as you writhed in his grip.
Finally he used his hand to uncurl your fingers from his device. He snatched it from you.
“Now, how do I remove this attachment?”
“Press the little blue button.” you suggested.
He pressed it, and then realization dawned on him. He dropped the phone onto the bed rubbed his face with his hands in aggravation. Glancing over at the screen, you saw a little grey box reading:
“What am I going to do with you…” he muttered into his hands, still straddling you.
“Thank me for your makeover?”
He rolled off of you, and laid down next to you.
“I’ll be the laughing stock of the office tomorrow.”
You both laid on the bed in silence. His hand moved over to yours, and your fingers joined.
“Even though you can be a pain sometimes, I’m glad we did this.” he confessed.
You suddenly realized how your entire relationship was about to change. You would depend on each other now, and have to work through problems together.
“No more room mates, or parents, or landlords. Just us.” you realized out loud.
He rolled over to you and placed a firm kiss on your cheek.
“There’s no one else I’d rather be alone with…”