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sakuwriteshere · 4 years

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Pretty Little Liar: Chapter 7 - FIN

General warnings (for the whole story): Fluff, comedy, angst, sexual innuedos, roommates AU, Ketch is a douche

Beta reader: Rosaline 💖 I can’t thank you enough for your help and great ideas!!

Words count: 5633 words

PLL Masterlist

Main Masterlist

A/N: So this is it! The final chapter! I’m so sad to have to let this story go, it was fun working on it. I want to thank all of you who liked, commented and/or rebbloged this series. It means the WORLD to me, trully. And a very special thank you to Rosaline, who did a wonderful job as a beta. Thank you so much for your help and the very interesting remarks and advice. <3

Well... I hope you’ll enjoy this last chapter ;3 Thanks for keeping with it until the end! <3 <3 <3

Chapter 7:

The kind of tone Mary’s using suddenly surprises and worries Dean. Mary is a lovely mother, a very kind and understanding person but she can be very scary when she’s angry and Dean had heard that disappointed voice a few times in his life and it was never a good thing. The fact that John is strangely silent isn’t helping Dean to feel better as well. Just like he had feared, telling his family the truth doesn’t make things right, on the contrary, he knows he has disappointed them. Is he going to lose his family just like he had lost Y/N? Dean doesn’t think he can live with that though. Fortunately, Sam coming back into the living room with Mary’s purse is putting an end to Dean’s own torment. As the white and grey purse comes into his range vision, Dean chances a look at his little brother who has his lips pursed firmly.

With the purse resting securely on her lap, Mary opens it, taking out a few bills and parts what she had in her hand in two. She gives one part to Sam and the other one to John as Dean watches the strange scene occurring in front of his eyes without understanding anything. A chuckle finally breaks the tense silence and John stands up, cheering loudly before high fiving Sam.

“John, your son is hurting.” Mary reminds him, rolling her eyes at her husband's childish behavior.

“Yeah, hm, sorry son.” John calms down but can’t help and pumps his fist as a victory sign.

“What’s going on?” Dean asks, completely lost and a bit embarrassed.

“We knew you were lying from the beginning so Mom, Dad and I bet on when you were going to tell us the truth or not. Mom thought you were going to get out of it easily while dad and I thought you wouldn’t.” Sam explains, counting the few bills in his hands before putting it in his pants back pocket.

“Wait a second. You knew?” Dean repeats, completely baffled. “So since the beginning you knew and you watched me stupidly trying to make it work for nothing?”

Mary raises her hand, motioning for Dean to not start a tantrum. “You’re the one who started it, Dean.” She reminds him in an authoritative motherly tone. “Be thankful that making fun of you is the only result you get.”

Dean shuts his mouth right away, he knows his mother is right but can’t help feeling angry and stupid. “How did you know?”

Mary smiles softly and looks at Dean knowingly. “You’re my son, sweety and a very bad liar.” She fumbles with Dean’s hair jokingly, the latter swatting her hand away weakly. “I have to admit that I had my doubts when you told me you proposed to her. For a second I thought you two were legit.”

Dean hides his face in his hands, groaning lowly as he remembers that particular night. If only he knew his parents suspected something he would have told them the truth right away and maybe he wouldn’t be in this mess right now.

“I don’t get why Y/N is so upset.” John thinks out loud. “She accepted to play a part in your little scheme at first and now, if I understand what you told us, she’s angry at you for lying. Isn’t she overreacting a bit?”

“That’s because she cares,” Jess explains, surprising the three men at the same time. “Mary, Y/N told you she loved Dean when you met her at the coffee shop, right?”

Mary nods, confirming Jessica’s explanations. “She did.”

“If she loved me, why didn't she say it so when I admitted my feelings earlier?”

“Would you believe a liar?” Jessica asks Dean, her question completely genuine and void of any reproach.

“I’m not a liar,” Dean grumbles, hating this more and more.

“Right. The last time Dean lied to us, Sam wasn’t even born, but, Y/N doesn’t know that” Mary ponders.

Dean gives his mother a sad look and after taking a deep breath, stands on his feet. “Well, it doesn’t matter anymore. Everything is over.”

The Winchesters family members watch the oldest son sadly, it’s pretty evident to see how down Dean is. Not liking the overbearing attention, Dean excuses himself, opting for hiding in his bedroom.

“You really love her, don’t you?” John asks his son, feeling a bit out of his comfort zone.

Dean stops between the doorframe of his bedroom and doesn’t even look back at his family. “As I said, it doesn’t matter anymore.” That being said, Dean closes the door behind him, leaving his family to do whatever they want in his living room.

The Winchesters watch the closed-door helplessly. It is very rare for Dean to forfeit, the man is well known for being stubborn and getting what he wants, so seeing him giving up so easily is a sign that all these lies have affected him a lot.

“I think it’s about time that I have a little talk with Y/N.” Mary announces, John giving his wife a warning look and silently telling her to stay out of their son’s love problems. “Don’t look at me like that. My baby is hurting and those two idiots clearly love each other, they just need someone to give them a little push.”

“What are you going to tell her?” Sam asks his mother, knowing how stubborn she can be when she has decided something.

“What Y/N wants,” Mary states, a powerful glint of determination in her eyes. “The truth.”

***

Her argument with Dean the day before is still swirling inside her head. While she had hoped that giving back that stupid tee-shirt would end the whole story, it has, in fact, made it more complicated. Now, because of Dean, Y/N is even less confident about her choices than before. Is it really a simple fake crush? Does he really love her? Is she making a mistake by trying to forget Dean with Ketch? Y/N is not expecting to live a wonderful love story with Ketch, on the contrary, that’s because she knows there’s nothing to expect from him that she’s trying. It’s safer that way. Not caring means you won’t get hurt in the end.

The line on the other side of the counter is getting bigger and bigger and Y/N tries to work as fast as possible. Charlie had to leave earlier because her girlfriend, Dorothy, had a (fortunately) minor motorbike accident and went to the hospital. At first Charlie didn’t want to leave Y/N on her own but she was visibly distress and wasn’t helping Y/N a bit, her anxious attitude made it harder for Y/N to work, so after Y/N had assured Charlie that she would be fine, the redhead finally agreed to leave. And that’s exactly the moment people suddenly decided to buy some coffee. Now Y/N is facing a very long queue that keeps on growing. At least working means she doesn’t have to think about her problems.

“Hello, I’m sorry for the wait. What can I serve you today?” Y/N asks without looking at the next customer as she's already busy filling the coffee machine with coffee beans.

“I can’t decide,” The woman customer announces and Y/N stops what she’s doing as she recognizes Mary’s voice. “There’s so many choices, it’s hard to choose.”

“Mrs. Winchester.” Y/N turns around and pronounces Mary’s name in a whisper.

“So we’re back to family names?” Mary smiles sadly.

Y/N lowers her gaze, feeling uncomfortable with Mary’s presence. She’s scared that the Winchester mother will make a big fuss in the shop and Y/N is really not ready to face such a problem. There are fewer people in the shop now but there’s still a few of them and Y/N doesn’t know how she’s going to cope with it.

“Just take other customers’ orders first, I’ll still check the menu. Don’t worry, take your time, I’m not in a rush.” Mary reassures gently and steps on the side, giving room to the next customer. Despite all Mary’s efforts, Y/N is still not at ease and becomes particularly quiet as she serves the remaining customers.

Thirty minutes later, the queue is finally gone and only a few customers are sitting in the coffee shop, enjoying their treats. At some point, Mary took a seat in a secluded corner of the shop as she waited for Y/N to be free. Y/N took a deep breath, preparing herself to face Mary and once she felt that she can’t be more ready than what she was, she headed for Mary’s table.

“Have you made your choice yet?” Y/N asks, trying to control the waves of nervousness in her voice.

Mary lowers the menu and tilts her head on the side, giving Y/N another gentle smile. “I don’t know, did you?”

Y/N’s fingers tightened around her pen and pad of notes. She perfectly understands what Mary is hinting at and she knows she’s not ready to talk about that topic, particularly with Mary, so instead, Y/N chooses to feign she doesn’t get Mary’s point.

“I can recommend you our new chaï tea with a cinnamon roll, the tastes are mixing wonderfully and some of our regulars even told us it tastes like heaven.”

Mary nods her head and hands back the menu. “I’ll take that then.” She follows Y/N’s lead, not wanting to frighten the poor girl more than she already is but can’t help and adds a second order before Y/N has time to leave. “And make it two. I think you deserve a break.”

With that being said, Y/N knows there’s no escape anymore. Mary’s determined to have a talk with her whatever it takes. Until the very last second, Y/N prayed for a new customer to come in but as she finally sits on the opposite chair from Mary, she knows the talk is inevitable anymore.

“So how have you been?” Casual talk, Y/N thinks as she watches Mary pouring some sugar in her tea.

“I’ve been good.” Y/N answers, picking at her cinnamon roll and avoiding Mary’s eyes.

Even if Mary doesn’t believe her she doesn’t show it and keeps on a neutral face. “I’ve heard you’re staying at a friend’s place. It must hurt sleeping on a couch.”

“The couch is comfy enough.”

“But after a moment you’ll get uncomfortable,” Mary argues.

“It’s just temporary,” Y/N counters right away.

“Is it really?”

The two women are now staring at each other. Y/N’s body is tense and on the defensive while Mary is relaxed.

“Y/N, relax please. I’m not your enemy here.”

“Mrs. Winchester-” Y/N starts but Mary cuts her short, asking of her to keep on calling her Mary instead. “Mary, why are you here?”

“I just want to help you and Dean. You’re both hurting and I don’t like seeing you like this.” Mary says genuinely and tries to hold Y/N’s hand while saying so but the young woman quickly pulls back her hands from the table and rests them on her lap instead.

“There’s nothing you can help for. De-Dean and I...it’s over.” Y/N says, keeping with the lie.

“How is something that never existed can be already over?” Mary asks her, surprising Y/N in the process. Seeing that Y/N is stunned by the sudden revelation, Mary knows it is better to tell her everything.

“Before you ask, yes I know the truth.” Mary starts her explanation and stops to take a sip from her tea. “Dean recently told me the truth but honestly, I knew from the beginning. Am I angry at him for lying to me? Not at all, I actually feel responsible. If my son felt the need to pretend he was dating someone to please me, then it means that I have somewhat said or done something to pressure him into lying, which means that I failed at being a caring mom.”

Y/N is at a loss for words. She doesn’t know what fact is the most important. The one about Mary and the whole Winchester family knowing Dean and Y/N little plan from the beginning and being played, or Mary’s vision about the whole thing and her responsibility in all of this. No wonder that Dean wanted to please his mother, she’s truly a wonderful person and very caring. She’s indeed someone you don’t want to disappoint.

Feeling that Y/N isn’t going to reply soon, Mary keeps on pressing. “What I want to know is now that this thing has been cleared, what other excuse will you find for running away?”

Y/N’s mouth opens but no sound comes out and she just looks like a fish out of the water. If she thought that she was lost before, then she just entered a new level of uncertainty.

“Y/N,” Mary joins her hands on top of the table and leans on, speaking softly. “I’m not here to push you into my son’s arms if that’s not what you want.” She reassures the young woman once again. “But I’ve seen you and Dean then and now. I know you feel something for him and believe me, he does too. I’ve never seen him in such a state. I understand it’s hard for you to trust him after what both of you did but as a piece of friendly advice: stop lying to yourself.”

A tear slips down Y/N’s face and she doesn’t know why she’s crying in the first place. Is it from relief or because she’s scared? Naturally, Mary brings her hand closer to Y/N’s face, brushing the tear away with her thumb.

“Y/N, sweety, I became fond of you. You’re a nice person and even if I don’t know you very well, I couldn’t hope for a better person for my eldest son. Whatever you decide you can count me as a friend, alright?” That being said, Mary stands up, knowing she has told Y/N what she wanted, now the ball is in her camp.

“Take all the time you need, sweety.” Mary said in a loving tone. “But let me be a selfish mother for a second please; don’t wait too long. I don’t think Dean can bear it anymore and neither do you.”

When she woke up this morning, Y/N didn’t know it would be such a horrible day. Never did she think that she would feel so lost and if she knew it, she would still be curled into Charlie’s couch. However she can’t lie to herself anymore. Mary is right. For fuck sake even Charlie and Dean told her so, she just wouldn’t listen to them. She’s scared as hell. Scared of living something great one second before it slips through her fingers the next second but by running away isn’t she letting something great slipping away as well? What is worse? Losing something great or living with regrets and days full of ‘if’?

In that right moment, Y/N knew what she wanted. She can’t live with regrets. Maybe it’s already too late and everything is broken, but she’ll reach the end of this story and live it to its fullest, without any more ‘what if’. She’s going to go to Dean’s apartment and make things clear between them. She’ll try to give him her side of the story and explain why she acted that way and Dean will be the one to decide. She has to give them a chance at least. She never did until now but it’s time for her to stop pretending. She loves Dean. She loves every fucking second she had spent with him since that weekend at the Winchesters. So what if she loses it? Every second is worth it. She never gave them a chance before but things are going to change. Right now.

Well, maybe not right, right now. She’s still responsible for the shop since Charlie left and she has to stay until the closing time. Her sudden confidence is slowly leaving her and she needs to keep herself busy so she won’t think about it anymore and change her mind again.

***

She couldn’t run fast enough, as soon as she had closed the room from the coffee shop, Y/N rushed towards Dean’s apartment and only stopped, breathless once she’s standing in front of the door. She doesn’t even wait for her breath to slow down and knocks frantically. It never occurred to her that maybe Dean isn’t at home. What if he’s not there? Maybe he had already forgotten about her and went to one of his previous conquests’ arms? They are way more beautiful than Y/N after all. Why would Dean bother with someone like her? She’s stupid for thinking that maybe she had a chance with him. He’s way out of her league. Maybe the reason she ran away is because she secretly knows she’s not worth it? Maybe, maybe, maybe…

The door opens suddenly, revealing one flushed Dean, drenched from head to toe.

“Y-Y/N?”

“Hi, um, is it a wrong time?” She asks, noticing Dean’s state.

“No, of course not. Never.” He quickly answers her before a huge noise disturbs them. The sound of something heavy falling, followed by glass crashing makes them jump. “Argh, damn it!”

Without wasting another second, Dean rushes into the kitchen, leaving the door wide open for Y/N to enter. The young woman steps inside carefully, wondering what all the fuss is about and closes the door behind her.

“Dean?” She calls from the doorstep, not daring to enter more than what she has already. “I can come another day if you’re busy right now.”

“No, no, it’s fine! Ah, damn it! Stop! You stay right here! No!” Dean yells from the kitchen, heavy footsteps resonating and Y/N doesn’t know if he’s talking to her or not.

When a thudding noise makes her jump, Y/N has no other choice than to check for herself if Dean’s alright. She doesn’t know what she expects to see once she’s inside the kitchen but she definitely isn’t expecting such a scene. Dean’s laying on his stomach, crawling under the kitchen table, leaving a wet mess behind him.

“Dean?” Y/N tilts her head on the side, wondering if her roommate has lost his mind.

“Stop moving you, son of a-” The man struggles under the table and hits the top of his head as he jumps back suddenly. “Biting? How dare you!”

Before Y/N has time to ask him what’s going on she hears tiny barkings and even a low growl. Slowly she sits on her knees and takes a look under the table. The first thing she sees is Dean sitting underneath and rubbing some sensible spot on the top of his head. The next thing is a ball of black fur, curled up against the wall and as far as possible from Dean.

“Oh? What do we have here?” She asks in a soft voice, crawling a bit closer to take a better look.

“Be careful, that thing is wild,” Dean warns her, crawling out from under the table.

“I think it’s mostly scared. Where did you find it?” She asks again, holding out her hand for the little puppy to sniff it. It takes some time for the scared animal to trust her enough but after a few minutes of comfortable silence, the little puppy finally approaches her with careful steps. Y/N can’t help herself and smile when she feels the cold, wet nose against her palm. Gently, she tries to pet the top of its head and she’s delighted when she sees that the little dog doesn’t run away.

“I found it on my way home tonight. Someone abandoned him in a dirty box a few streets from here.” Dean explains as he watches the puppy curling onto Y/N’s laps. The easy contact this girl has with animals is always surprising him.

“And you took it with you?” Y/N keeps on asking him, the astonishment clearly present in her voice.

“I heard it might be raining tonight.” Dean shrugs his shoulders and steps back as Y/N crawls out from under the table, the puppy securely wrapped in her arms. “I’m not heartless, I couldn’t leave it alone under the rain.”

They both went into the bathroom, and Y/N can finally understand why Dean is drenched from head to toe once she sees the mess in and around the bathtub.

“Don’t tell me you tried to give it a bath?” She deduces, her eyes wide opened as she takes in the mess all around them.

“It stinks!” Dean defends himself, grabbing a towel to dry his hair. “And it can move really fast.” He adds in a whisper.

Y/N rolls her eyes at Dean’s stupidity. “You scared him, idiot!” She reproaches as she takes a good look at the puppy and realizes that the dog is a male. Now that she can look at it easily, Y/N recognizes the kind of dog she’s holding. It’s a black Finnish Lapphund with two hypnotizing piercing blue eyes.

“We can call him Shadow. It suits him, don’t you think?” She smiles turning around to look at Dean and pressing the puppy’s head against her cheek. She will never admit it but Dean is right, the poor thing stinks.

“Do you always think about dogs’ names so easily?” Dean chuckles, softened by such a cute scene.

“It’s a gift.” Y/N announces proudly before turning on her heels again and walking towards the bathtub. Now that Shadow isn’t scared anymore, she can try to give him a proper bath.

Dean and her spend the next fifteen minutes in the bathroom, giving Shadow a bath in completely but comfortable silence. Once the dog is finally clean, she takes him from the water and asks Dean to bring her hairdryer from her room, the young man not losing a second and obliges. They both laugh when they see how much Shadow enjoys the hot hair being blown over his fur, and laugh even more at the way he’s sticking up his little butt when Y/N tries to dry the area around his fluffy tail.

Once Dean and Shadow are totally dry and the bathroom clean again, they both sit on the couch, Shadow curled up on Y/N’s lap and slowly drifts to sleep thanks to Y/N’s gentle pets. Dean will never say it out loud but he’s glad to have some normalcy back. The tension between them had completely disappeared as if the few previous days never happened. He would give anything to stay like this, alone with Y/N, sitting on their couch, their knees almost touching but he also knows that he has to say something.

“Why are you here, Y/N?” He asks in a whisper, half hoping she doesn’t hear him so they could stay like this and ignore the rest of the world.

The soft smile she has on her lips falls as Y/N, herself realizes that the peaceful moment had to be broken. “Your mom came into the shop today.”

Dean closes his eyes and sighs before giving Y/N an apology. “I’m sorry. I have no idea she would come to bother you, I-” An index finger pressed against his lips shushes him.

“Calm down, it’s alright.” She reassures him, the smile back on her face. “To be honest, I needed it. She’s really a wonderful woman, you’re lucky to have her as your mom.”

Dean simply nods, strangely happy to know that Y/N appreciates his mother.

“You told your family the truth? Why?” She asks him, her eyes fixed on his and her voice not above a whisper.

“I’ve lost you already. There was nothing more to lose.” Dean admits, using the same tone.

“You never had me, Dean.” Y/N’s sentence is like a slap in his face. So Mary and Jessica were wrong when they told him Y/N was in love with him, she was just a very good actor, that was it.

“You never had me because I was too scared to believe I could have you.” She adds, knowing how easily Dean could misinterpret her previous statement.

Dean’s head snaps as soon as the words left her lips. “You had me the day you came through those doors, Sweetheart.”

It’s Y/N’s turn to not get Dean’s point. Seeing how hard she’s trying to comprehend what he’s telling her, Dean keeps going.

“I never needed a roommate, I was just looking for some easy company, you do remember the ad, right?” Dean smirks, remembering exactly each word: ‘Non-smoking women, only.’ “But then you came in and agreed to stay as long as nothing happened between us and I agreed. I thought I could make you change your mind but you resisted and frankly, after a while, I just pretended that I wasn’t attracted to you anymore but now I realize that I was lying to myself.”

The more Dean explains himself, the more they become closer without even realizing it. As Dean keeps on explaining, he leans a bit more comfortable on the couch, one lazy arm draped on top of it, just behind Y/N’s head.

“I don’t know why I lied to my mom that day. When she asked me if I was going to the party alone, I thought about you right away. Don’t ask me why I don’t have the answer. I just thought about you. And I thought I would be fine then but you had to charm me that weekend, without forcing yourself and then I just knew. I knew you would be the one, and damn it believe me when I say I tried to fight it and then-”

“Are you going to kiss me? Because I have enough of your ramblings already.” She whispers, her cheeks a deep red despite the confident voice she can muster. Honestly, she’s scared because it’s exactly what she dreamt of hearing but she couldn’t believe it, she must be daydreaming. She is proud of herself for not having run away already and knows that the only reason she’s still here is because of the ball of fur sleeping on her lap.

Surprised at first by her sharp tongue, Dean doesn’t let go of this occasion. He’s been dreaming of kissing her for so long, there’s no way he will let that chance slip. Gently, he brings his body closer, their knees now touching while his hand cups her cheek. Dean can’t help and smirks when he notices the way she’s softly biting on her lower lip, her body buzzing under his fingertips, so he doesn’t wait any longer and ends the torturous wait by pressing his lips against her. He wants to keep the kiss chaste and gentle but that was without counting on Y/N to be the greedier one. Once the first surprise at the contact has passed, she’s responding to his kiss eagerly, her tongue licking his lower lip, seeking a way inside. Dean, being proud to please his women grants her wish, happily. His other hand cups the other side of her face, tilting their heads in the movement, giving them more room to deepen their kiss. They’re not in a rush, they just want to enjoy this unique moment, their very first kiss, after several failed attempts and it’s sweet as fuck. Their tongues are fighting each other, curious and greedy. The only reason they part is that they need to breathe, so, ruefully, Dean breaks the embrace, his lips missing the soft touch of her already.

“Dean, I have to tell you, I’m sorry I-” Y/N starts to apologize, still breathless and flushed but this time it’s Dean’s turn to shush her.

“It’s getting late. Why don’t we apologize tomorrow, hm?” He pleaded, his forehead pressed against her. “Would you stay the night? Please?”

“Would you let me stay more than one night?” She asks instead of answering him and a slight grin adorns Dean’s lips as he kisses her forehead.

“You can stay as long as you want, Sweetheart. Is forever long enough for you?” He jokes between kisses.

The bright smile she’s giving him is enough of an answer. Slowly they stand up, Y/N careful with her movements so she doesn’t wake up Shadow who is happily snoring into her arms. She heads for her bedroom and Dean opens her door for her. She can feel her heart sore when she notices Dean’s old tee-shirt on the top of her bed.

“Good night, Sweetheart. See you tomorrow.” Dean wishes her goodnight, kissing her again as he can’t get enough. Now that he knows how she tastes, he just needs more. She’s really addicting.

“By the way,” he asks suddenly as he was going to close her door and leave her alone. “Are you staying for me or the dog?” He jokes, knowing perfectly the answer but any excuse is enough to keep her in his sight.

“Both?” She answers sheepishly before laughing when Dean’s face falls, he wasn’t expecting that kind of answer.

***

A few days later, Y/N is whistling in the kitchen, preparing Dean and her breakfast. After a very long day full of talking they’re back to their usual routine. They both were honest to each other and agreed to never lie to themselves anymore. If one of them has something to say, then they’ll say it, no matter how hard or scary it could be. They haven’t put a label on their relationship yet.

“Stop it!” She warns Dean, her back turned towards him as she’s flipping the pancakes in the pan. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re trying to do.”

Dean freezes his movement, a bit of bacon dangling from his fingertips as he gives Shadow an apologetic look.

“Sorry buddy, I swear she has eyes in the back of her head.” He whispers to the puppy who’s waiting for the piece of bacon to magically fall on the ground. “Sweetheart, your phone is ringing a lot this morning.” Dean comments, hearing the stupid device ringing on the coffee table.

“I wonder who it is.” She ponders, whipping her hands with a towel as she walks into the living room but the ringing stops before she has time to take the call. That’s the moment she notices she has missed 35 calls and has 52 messages left. “Oh shit!”

“What?” Dean asks, curious to know what’s going on.

“Ketch! I completely forgot I was supposed to go out with him yesterday.” She answers without thinking, too focused on reading the angry messages the British man left her.

“Ketch?” Dean exclaimed and to Shadow’s delight a piece of bacon finally falls on the ground, miraculously. “Seriously?”

Dean doesn’t care about the deathly glare she’s throwing at him for feeding Shadow with bacon, the Ketch topic being more important at the moment.

“I was a bit confused and made a mistake.” She admits and rolls her eyes, knowing how sensitive that particular topic is.

Dean comes into the living room and manhandles Y/N, forcing her to turn around and look at him. “No, no, no.” Dean disagrees, pressing his forehead against her. “Having sex in the shower is a mistake. Forgetting my mom’s birthday is a mistake. Dating Ketch is simply the dumbest move. You should thank me for saving you from his claws, you deserve better.” He finally says, kissing her deeply.

With a soft tap on his arms that are wrapped around her waist, she breaks their embrace, an amused smile on her lips. “Because you’re better?”

“Damn right, I am.” Dean grins proudly.

“Damn right you are.” She concedes, kissing him back. “Oh, speaking of which! Mary called yesterday, she asked me to remind you that your Uncle Bobby’s birthday party is next weekend.” She remembers suddenly. “She didn’t seem surprised to have me over the phone. Did you tell your mom that we’re together?”

Dean shakes his head no, a fond smile on her lips, and wraps his arms around her once again, bringing their body closer. “Not yet,” Dean admits and smiles a bit more, picturing how his family will react when he’ll come with Y/N at his sides.

“Now that you mention it, I haven’t asked you something.” He starts, unwrapping his arms from her waist and taking both of her hands in his before becoming suddenly serious. “Will you be my girlfriend? For real this time.” He asks, his eyes plunged into her.

As she loses herself into the deepest green eyes she has ever seen, Y/N knows there is only one answer to that question. Their relationship started the day this man pronounced one little white lie and none of them knew how it would turn. That day she thought she was helping one pretty, little liar and the story would be over by the end of the weekend. However, after some stupid complication they didn’t need, Y/N finally knows that Dean Winchester is and always will be her pretty little liar. So instead of answering him with a plain and obvious answer, Y/N gives him the most passionate kiss she can provide.

“Friendly advice,” she says as they broke the kiss, their lips still touching. “Next time you propose to me, bring the ring with you or your mom will kill you.”

FIN

Pour Toujours tags: @drakelover78, @akshi8278

PLL tags: @eliwinchester99, @paiswhite, @vicmc624, @metalfangirl, @londoncallingbutiwontpickup

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural reader insert #female!reader #roommates au #spn fanfiction #series #PLL Series #fake dating

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drop-the-curtain-123 · 4 years

Note

Hi!! Please tell us why you theorize Edward VI as gay/mlm! Also is that Anne of Cleves from SIX as your profile picture?

hello! sorry for the delay of my answer. first, yes my profile picture is from SIX. And I’m aware that by saying that I lost a lot of “credibility” in the eyes of some people. But OH WELL.

DISCLAIMER: I am NO historian, please don’t hate on me, I just wanted to open the topic because I felt crazy as I was the only one I knew, even after intense research, who theorised that, so yeah. I’m only almost 17 years old and I’m french. Please don’t attack me.

So, long story short, everything ties around Barnaby Fitzpatrick. I feel like I explained a lot of times, but I’m going to use this as my “base answer”.

For background, it’s necessary to remember than Barnaby Fitzpatrick (born in 1535) was an Irish Protestant Baron. And, no offence to Irish people, but Irish-born people weren’t the best considered. Plus Barons are, as far as I know, one of the lowest classes of the nobility. His father actually came to the English court -and converted to Protestantism- when Barnaby was a toddler, let’s say. But I’m derailing.

And so, Barnaby becomes Edward’s whipping boy, and they grow fond of each other.

Unrelated trivia, but actually, Richard Cox admitted that he had beaten both of the kids with his staff.

But let’s move on, I’m sorry I thought that having the foundations of the fact that, really, Barnaby wasn’t made to have such a social-climbing due to his birth conditions were important.

It is also un-forgettable that Edward VI was a very stoic, antipathic individual who cherished only a couple of people, but to a point that makes it stand out since it is “unusual” and even more, Barnaby really IS the maximum of affection that Edward VI ever addressed to anyone - or anything.

And then... Barnaby becomes Employee of the Privy Chamber of Edward, who became king. And, if I remember well, the most prominent one/the leader, and the only one close to the age of Edward (understand: not 25 years old teacher). Which marks their close bond for sure. Edward, who had endured, let’s be honest, a whole load of trauma and has been betrayed by some people in his circles, had immense trust in Barnaby, who remained harmless.

And then despite the bankrupt caused by Henry VIII before him, Edward sends his “dearest companion” to France. And their correspondence is really interesting. Notably this:

“For women, as far as you may, avoid their company. Yet if the French King commands you, you may sometimes dance, so measure be your means.”

Also that, according to a website that I’ll link as soon as I find it again:

In another set of letters, at the end, he notified “Tui amantissimus, E. Rex.” and as far as I am no Latin expert, amant totally means suitor in french, and Barnaby was in... you guessed it. But here I might be pulling strings.

The part about avoiding women proves a very protective side of Edward (FYI Barnaby answered something among the lines of “I’m starting to believe you give me fatherly care rather than a friendly one” to this), but again... It’s a bit ambiguous.

Barnaby comes back rushyly from France on the 8th or 9th of December 1552, and would not quit his dying friend until the end of the latter’s life. Along with a group of other soon-to-be-ex employees of the Privy Chamber that would not quit the monarch.

Now my last argument relies on a question you might have “Where are Barnaby letters?”. Well... They have disappeared. The most common theory is that Mary burnt some of them, since they were in the place that Edward used to live in and that Mary inherited by becoming queen, Barnaby keeping Edward’s. But then... Why would she care? Why taking of her royal time to destroy some Irish 17-years-old letters? Why only some of them?

I’ll probably add on stuff I forgot on the way of writing it on one setting by rebbloging this and adding in, or modifying.

Again, we’ll probably never know for sure. And I know the terminology would’ve been different than our 21th century homoromantic label. But this was a thing I never saw discussed, while people tend to pair Edward (sometimes for little to no reason) with either Jane Dormer or Jane Grey.

Don’t hesitate to add your thoughts! Just be respectful and civil, please. Love on y’all. I’m not against people being reticent at my THEORY, and thinking after looking onto this that it was only a friendship. I’m however kinda meh at people being against the idea only after looking at the title. Stay hydrated too.

HOPE IT MAKES SENSE AAAAAH.

#Tudors #edward vi #Barnaby Fitzpatrick #Mary I #history #tudor history #please show up in the tags

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ficsxreaderr · 5 years

Text

Shot at the night [2]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (Modern day AU)

A/N: Based on the prompt “I’m in love with you, asshole!” for @coffee-with-bucky ‘s writing challenge.

Series masterlist | Complete masterlist

Rebblogging and feedback are always welcome and appreciated! Taglist for this fic and for a permament one is open!

**Thanksgiving last year**

Fuck, its cold tonight, well, it had to be, December is coming. Since you moved out of your home town, you’ve got no family to go to on Thanksgiving, so you’re being part of the dinner that your boss organized for the office. More people than you expected showed up, apparently, all of them are in the same situation as you are, including your dear protégé—except now he’s more of a partner because you work together more than you teach him—and he seems quite happy to be here. You’ve picked a lovely burgundy, high neck dress, with cut outs at the sides of your waist so your skin is showing, it’s actually your favorite dress and you sure look banging in it, and you walk as powerful as you feel. And the funniest thing is, Bucky knows it.

From the moment you walked into the foyer and shrugged out of your coat to leave it at the coatroom, he was struck with a feeling in his belly that only a drink helped to cease; he unconsciously bit his lip as he looked away to avoid getting caught staring at you, but he still did out of the corner of his eye. You fixed your hair so it fell over your shoulders, and all he could do was clasp his glass tighter, at the risk of breaking it. Poor Bucky, he was such a mess, and he hadn’t said a word to you yet.

“You look…great tonight.” He gestures with his hand in your direction, with a smirk he doesn’t want you to see, but you’re too focused on him not to. And how couldn’t you? His scruff is growing into a beard, probably due to the time of the year, and his cheeks are more blushed that usual now that you’re at the rooftop, ready to dine with your co-workers. His hair is tied up in a bun at his nape, a good decision for a windy night.

“Thanks, you…look really nice.” You nod and offer him a smile. “So you’ll sit beside me, right? For dinner?” He feels his heart leaps up to his throat and he swallows deeply; he widens his eyes and tries to respond.

“I—yeah, of course.” He presses his lips in a thin line, thankful you can’t read his mind because he’s punching himself in the face at the moment for not being able to hide his messy reactions from you.

You walk away from him and find your seat, and seconds later, Bucky sits right beside you. Your body tenses as the wind fans his smell on your direction, and it sends a shiver down your spine. You take a sip of water and look at him as he’s too focused on his phone. You look away and feel relieved when you see Paul, your office neighbor, approaching with a bottle of wine.

“Raise your glasses, everyone! I’ve bought just the best for all of you.” He says as he removes the cork and starts pouring wine for the whole table. Once you’re served, you take a sip and realize he really bought the best, and you’re glad it’s not going to be an alcohol-free night.

“Wow, this is really good wine.” You mention, getting Bucky’s attention.

“I agree,” He says after he’s taken a sip himself. “You know, I’ve never seen you get drunk.” You glance at him with a questioning look and he smiles at you in victory that he’s got your attention now.

“And this will not be the night you do.” You shake your head, but mentally punch yourself for being unable to hide the amused grin from your lips.

He licks his lips and chuckles, looking unbelievably attractive. Why would you ever think he’s attractive? Your logical self is struggling with your impulsive self too much tonight…and because of Bucky?

“I don’t usually make promises when the night is still young, doll.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You say after releasing a scoff, and shoot up an eyebrow in question.

“What? Nothing,” he shrugs. “Oh, look, the turkey’s coming.” He’s saved by Georgina, who’s bringing steaming turkey to the table asking everyone to make room for it. You try to ignore what he said and keep on with your night; your stomach lowly rumbling when you smell the turkey along with all the abundant food they’ve prepared.

Dinner and dessert are finished, and since you’ve been sitting for so long, you decide to stand up and away from the table, to digest everything you just ate and to rest from the wine you’ve been drinking. Your head is already spinning a little, so you decide to stop before it’s too late. Thankfully the temperature hasn’t dropped so you’re not freezing out here wearing this dress, but you’re startled when you feel someone standing behind you. You turn around and find your lovely co worker Anne, who was so nice to you from the beginning and is always there when you need help for literally, anything.

“Hey, Anne, how’s your night going?” You ask as you offer her a smile.

“It’s great, I’m so full, I think I’ve never eaten so much.” She says and you both chuckle. “How about you? I see you’re having a good time.”

“I am,” You nod. “It’s really nice to share with everyone.” You shrug.

“So…” She speaks, making you look at her. “You and…Bucky, is that a thing?” You widen your eyes in surprise to a question you never imagined you would be asked, not tonight, not ever.

“What?” You reply, maybe a little too loudly, unable to hide the outrage in your voice. “There’s no Bucky and me, we’re co-workers.”

“You know I don’t meddle in people’s lives but…the way he looks at you, at anything you do, and how you laugh at his jokes, and when he speaks into your ear…your smile is just…huge.” She shakes her head, wearing a smile on her face, a sincere one.

“No, I know, it doesn’t bother me.” You wave her off. “But, um, the truth is we’re…friends, I guess, that’s about it…I think we know each other too well, after you, he’s the one who knows me best.”

“And doesn’t that tell you anything? When you know someone that much, it means something.”

“No, come on, we barely started off as friends, he was such a pain in the ass and now we kind of learned to live with each other and I think it’s great.”

“Okay,” She nods. “It’s nice to see you act so confidently with someone.”

“It feels nice, too.”

You had to lose at rock, paper, scissors when deciding who had to stay and take everything inside and clean up a little. Thankfully you stopped drinking a while ago and you’re not drunker than you should be, and for better or worse, you’re not alone. You order the dirty dishes by the sink so Bucky can put them in the dishwasher, and even if it’s late, you’re going to need at least a cup of coffee to get home a little bit wide awake. You prepare the coffee maker and stand by the counter to wait for it to finish as Bucky is done with what he’s doing. You let out a deep sigh, and tie up your hair in a ponytail, not noticing how Bucky finds himself mesmerized by your graceful movements. He swallows deeply and clears his throat as he comes back to Earth when you ask him what’s going on.

“Oh, nothing I just…I think it’s the wine.” He nods eagerly trying to reassure he didn’t just melt like ice cream under the sun due to your still impeccable looks despite the long night.

You chuckle and bite your lip in amusement when you notice once again how hesitant he is tonight. How can someone who usually acts so boldly be so messy when it comes to you?

“I’m sure it is.” He takes a step closer to you, resting his hand on the counter and looking into your eyes as his glow like stars.

“Did you have a good time tonight?” He murmurs unable to hide his hoarse voice.

“I did.” You speak in a whisper, much to your dislike. “I had great company.” What the hell did you just say?

“I know.” He shrugs, obviously teasing you with that smirk, making you roll your eyes at him. “My night wasn’t bad at all.” He says before looking down at his feet.

“I know.” You mimic his joke and he unexpectedly chuckles and his eyes meet yours again. He takes another step forward and now he’s so close to you, you can feel how his cologne has lingered through the night. You inhale sharply at the risk of him noticing it and you stare blankly at him.

“W-what are you…”

“Doing? What do you think?” His gaze falls to your lips and his lips curl up grinning.

“Where’s this coming from?” You say in a lower voice than you would like, and press your lips as you swallow and try to grab the courage to keep up with his game.

“You talk too much.” He shakes his head but you’re distracted by the hand he places where the skin of your waist is uncovered. His skin feels warm and welcome, the latter being something you didn’t expect at all. He meets your gaze and he licks his lips, making you feel weaker.

“You’re drunk.” You mention, but he ignores your words nuzzling your cheek, making you inhale sharply.

“But you’re not, and you’re not stopping me.” He murmurs against your skin, your whole body trembles at his proximity and he knows it, he gently clenches his hand around your waist, making you grab his upper arm only to realize how big his bicep is.

His cold nose brushes against yours, and you notice his crimson cheeks, probably because of the cold or because he can’t believe how he’s being so bold right now.

“You’re so annoying.” You speak in a whisper as your eyes meet his and his warm breath fans against your lips. He ignores you once again and closes his eyes as he presses his lips against yours, you quickly kiss him back, clenching your hand around his bicep, and slightly parting your lips to let him take your lower lip between his. You let out a breath, making his lips twitch up against yours, and apparently, that was the sign he took to place his free hand around your waist, your uncovered skin now in direct contact with his big, strong, yet soft hands, not caring if he feels the heat you’re radiating.

He keeps kissing you, slowly, each of you savoring the taste of wine and tenderness from each other’s lips. As if your hands had minds of their own, you reach up to his bun and untie his hair, running a hand through it to let his long locks fall on his shoulders. An approving moan escapes his lips as he tells you he liked that by chasing after your lower lip with his teeth. You chuckle against his lips and caress his scalp and his nape with your fingertips. Unexpectedly, he pulls away gently and fixes his now darker eyes on yours as you tuck a strand of hair behind his ear.

“I lied earlier tonight.” He says, biting his lip, now another shade of pink that is so lovely you’re almost sad he stopped kissing you. You frown at his statement and let go of his upper arm as if he’ll say something you don’t want to hear.

“I said you looked great, but the truth is,” He brushes his lips against yours and continues, “You look wonderful,” He pecks your lips. “Marvelous, stunning, gorgeous…drop dead.” He says as he pecks your lips with each word, making your lips curl up in a smile as you place a hand on his chest only to find an erratic heartbeat he has only felt around you.

“For a second I thought I had done something wrong.” You add, tugging at the collar of his shirt and staring at him.

“You could never.” He shakes his head and nuzzles your cheek, his nose is now warmer and you welcome his touch with a low hum. His thumbs caress the skin at your waist, his skin against yours feels so familiar; like something you didn’t know before but somehow was made to be that way.

You draw your hands to his nape and you play with his hair as he places small kisses on your cheek.

“Your skin is warm.” He murmurs and you can hear him smiling.

“I know, it’s ‘cause you’re too close.” You mock him and he lifts his head to look at you.

“Oh you want me to move?” He replies with a huge grin on his face. “Cause I can, if you’re uncomfortable.” He shrugs.

“Do you always have to be such a jerk?” You shake your head in disbelief.

“I don’t have to be but I know it drives you crazy.” He winks at you and you pull your lip between your teeth. “Do you have to get home?” He asks after a moment with his brows knitted, obviously knowing what he wants to hear.

“It depends...” You speak as he gives you the goofiest grin. “Do you want me to?” Playing with his hair is almost therapeutic, you can’t stop and he clearly doesn’t want you to.

He shakes his head lazily, leaning over to kiss the corner of your lips. “I know a place…they’re open 24 hours.”

“Tell me it’s not your place.” You joke and earn a heartfelt laughter that resonates in your ears and flutters your heart.

“It could be…but it’s not, it’s the best pizza in the city.”

“Pizza? Aren’t you full from dinner?”

“Oh, come on, I know you would never deny food, especially pizza.” His eyes gleam in a way you never thought possible, no one’s ever looked at you like that.

“When did I let you get to know me so well?”

“Even if you hadn’t let me, I would know it all, sweetheart.”

Taglist: @itvariesfromlokitostrange @jitterbuck @38leticia

#lyns2019wc #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #modern day au #avengers #sebastian stan imagine #james buchanan barnes #captain america #ca: tfa #ca: tws #ca: cw #steve rogers #writing challenge #shot at the night #coffeee with bucky's writing challenge

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floatingpetals · 7 years

Text

Vanish in the Dark Pt 4

Pairings: None at the moment(Still got nothing.)

Warnings: Language,

Word Count: 3500+(Holy crapola)

Summary: Assassin’s Creed AU and Marvel AU crossover. The Brotherhood has spent years hiding in the shadows keeping the Templars in line as the years pass on. When the Templars company Abstergo Industries strikes up a deal with Hydra, things have to change. The Brotherhood decides to step out of the shadows, reaching out for the help of the Avengers. What could go wrong?

A/N: So because of all you wonderful people who’ve followed me, I’m posting two parts(Pt 3 and Pt 4) today. And holy crap, this ones long you guys. There’s a lot I had to fit into for this part and I couldn’t didn’t want to split it up. While I’m sure the Avenger’s aren’t this oblivious, you have to think, they’re working with an organization whose been doing the spy thing for millennials. They Avengers are awesome, but I think the Assassin’s would have their shit together a bit more and know how to one up them. Side note: I know it’s not canon but I always imagine that every time the assassin’s go into eagle vision, their eyes turn gold. It’s a shift in their vision and the only way you’d know they turned the vision on. I figured it could also be a way to communicate without words between them. Sometimes whistles are too obvious. I hope ya’ll enjoy! Also liking and rebblogging also helps me know if i should keep going. Thank you guys! ❤️

Once again, the gif is not mine, credit to the owner.

Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Series Masterlist

“Are we sure this is such a good idea?”

Steve answered with an exasperated sigh before he took a sip from his cup of coffee. He glanced over to where Bucky sat two tables down, who was grinning stupidly into his own cup of coffee. Bucky snorted in response to Sam’s whine, and nodded at the waitress who brought him his pastry. The sat at the café across the street, their eyes watching the open courtyard in front of them.

“Seriously, you bought food?” Natasha questioned. Bucky rolled his eyes and turned to look around the area, his eyes skimming over to her location. She sat on a bench on the other side of the street, Wanda sitting on the other end flipping through a magazine.

“You’re only upset that you didn’t get this spot.” Bucky mocked, making a show of enjoying the chocolate covered pastry. Natasha opened her mouth with a retort but was stopped when Sam jumped in again.

“Seriously. This is a mission, and you two are acting like children.” He leaned against the pillar of the building next to the Abstergo’s, chastising the two of them. They simply chose to ignore him. Sam focused back on the building, taking it all in.

The two buildings were relatively close together, the press conference within reaching distance from his location, the only thing separating them was the small walkway between the two buildings. From where he stood, he didn’t have to move his head to see everyone. It also meant he could see the other people milling around the walkway. He tuned out the other’s on the com when his eyes landed on a tall blonde.

The woman was dressed in a pencil skirt with a white button-down blouse that screamed frazzled business casual. Her hair was pulled up into a messy bun, the dark-rimmed glasses slipping from her nose, and her purse had fallen to the crook of her elbow. She struggled with piles of paper she had in her grip, and Sam watched a book slip out from beneath her arms. She stumbled in her heels, and soon all the contents of her arm and purse flew across the walkway right in front of him. Sam’s hand shot out on reflex, catching the woman before she could hit the hard pavement.

“Oh my god.” The woman let out a sob, turning to Sam. He froze at the sacred doe expression, her emerald green eyes threatening to spill out the tears she was holding in. His other hand went out to gently grab her other arm, pulling her to stand. He didn’t let go, her eyes captivating him. It wasn’t until Steve spoke his name that he was snapped out of it.

“You okay?” Sam breathed. The woman gave him a broken smile, nodding as she stepped back. Both Sam and her bent to scoop up the piles of papers, apologizing to the people that stepped around them. She tried to tell Sam it was fine, that he didn’t need to help, but he insisted. Once the stacks, while unorganized, were neatly stacked once more, Sam stood to pass them to her open arms. The woman had scooped up the contents of her purse, shoving everything in without a glance, as if she had done this many times before. She turned back to Sam, smiling widely at the man who found himself once more enamored by her beautiful green eyes.

“Thank you,” The woman bubbled, taking the papers from him. “Thank you so much!” She stepped away, although hesitantly. With a small nod, she turned and walked away, grinning stupidly to herself. Sam watched her go, a similar smile on his face.

During it all, he missed the way the woman had glanced at him, the way she sized him as he reached for the papers. He missed the way she glanced over to the crowd of media for the conference, her eyes landing on dark grey. He missed the subtle flicker of gold in her eyes or the way the dark grey responded with their own gold. Sam missed a lot when she stumbled, including the small beads that spilled from her purse when the larger content spread out on the pavement. He also missed when two men passed in front of him after the woman had left, their eyes flicking over to him while he watched the blond move around a corner, disappearing from sight.

“Sam.” Natasha snapped, bringing Sam back. “We’re on a mission, can you please stop acting like a child.” She joked. Wanda stifled a giggle, glancing over to Sam who was openly glaring at them. Both women grinned at Sam but were pulled away when two men stepped into their line of sight. The two men were built wide, muscles rippling under their shirts that look a size too small for both of them. Not that the two women were complaining. They couldn’t seem to pull their attention away, instead settled on watching the men.

One was grinning at the shorter, while the latter was frowning and grumbling under his breath. Natasha’s eyes flicker down noticing that while they looked to be in some kind of argument the other was winning, their hands remained interlocked with each other. The taller nudge the shorted with his shoulder, leaning into the shorter’s side.

“Oh come on, it’s not that big of a deal.” The redhead laughed. The shorter snorted, running his free hand through his black wavy hair.

“Not that big of a deal?! You’re mother embarrassed me, and you just sat there and let it happen!”

“Oh, come on.” He rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “She wasn’t trying to be mean, it’s just what she does. She only picks when she cares.” The dark-haired man turned to stare up at the redhead who was still grinning at him.

“I don’t think her making fun of my profession is the best way to tell someone you care.” He snarled. He opened his mouth to begin again, but the chorus from ‘Princes of The Universe’ by Queen stopped him. He huffed and pulled his hand away to allow the redhead to reach into his pocket.

“Speak of the devil,” The man grinned. The dark-haired man rolled his eyes and stepped away, reaching into his own pocket. He pulled out a thin box of Altoids, the plastic still wrapped around the box. He unraveled the plastic, while his partner chattered away. The dark-haired man looked around, spotting the trash can that was beside Natasha. Natasha immediately looked back at the book in her hand, but never kept the man out of her peripherals. He walked the short distance, the redhead following close behind still talking animatedly, and threw the plastic away. The man moved a step towards the redhead, popping open the box. Right as he went to reach for a mint, the redhead gestured with his hand, hitting the box from his grip. The mints flew out of the box, scattering on the pavement, several bouncing off of Natasha’s head.

“Shit!” The dark-haired cursed, bending to pick up the can. “I’m so sorry!” He didn’t know what to do, his hand reaching to do something. Natasha just laughed, waving him off, picking up the few mints that landed on her to toss into the trashcan.

“It’s alright, accidents happen.” She giggled. The redhead had stopped mid-sentence, his eyes wide.

“I gotta go Ma.” He said as he hung up. He moved to his partner's side, looking guilty for being the reason why she was pelted with mints. “I’m so sorry! I get excited when I talk with my mother.”

Natasha smiled warmly at the two, once more waving them off. “Boys, don’t worry about it. It’s just mints. Not like you poured hot coffee on me.”

The two didn’t seem to buy her apology, but they both nodded. “Again, we’re sorry. We’re uh. We’re just gonna go and leave you to read. Sorry again.”

Natasha simply smiled at the two, watching as they sulked away from her bench. Wanda smacked her with her magazine, grinning stupidly at Natasha.

“You’re ogling Nat.”

Natasha shrugged, turning back to the book. “You saw them. It was hard not to.”

Tony made a noise of disgust, while the other groaned. Wanda simply giggled, looking over at the mints that were still scattered on the ground.

“Should we pick them up?” Natasha shook her head, glancing over to the seats of the media.

“Nah, they’re just mints, they’ll dissolve in the rain.”

Wanda shrugged and went back to observing around them, keeping a lookout for anything out of the ordinary. Neither noticed how the two men had purposely stepped in their line of sight. Neither notices that the mints weren’t all mints. And the two never noticed when the men glanced over their shoulders, smirking to one another. The Avengers were too wrapped up in themselves to notice the nod the two men gave the woman sitting by the café as they moved further down the street.

Steve shook his head, a thought going through his head. ‘What was going on today?’ He knew they were on an important mission, even though they barely knew what the mission was about. They had time to take everything in last night, to talk about everything that had taken place. While they still weren’t happy about everything, they knew the group needed to set aside their frustration. This Brotherhood wanted the same thing. They hadn’t hurt anyone of them, at least not physically. All the group had managed to do was point out a few flaws in their system. A low blow, but it wasn’t life-threatening.

Steve looked back at the cup of coffee in front of him, watching the liquid swirl in the cup. A chair shifted in front of him, and curiosity got the best of him. He froze when he saw the woman sitting across from him as she settled in the seat. She pulled out a sketchbook and pencil, her gaze shifting up and to her left while she looked for a person or thing to draw. When she saw Steve staring at her whole body tensed. Neither could seem to look away, both lost in each other’s eyes. Steve felt his chest tighten, the same feeling he had the first time he saw Peggy worming its way back into his heart. He found it hard to breathe as if he was having his first asthma attack in decades.

“Steve?” Bucky called softly, noticing his friend's shift in behavior. Steve blinked, clearing his throat. He looked away first, ignoring how her eyes were still taking him in. He glanced at Bucky, scratching his chin to let him know he was fine. He couldn’t speak while she still observed him, which fortunately wasn’t much longer. He felt her gaze leave him but could sense it every once in a while return. He dared a glance, noticing how her hand was moving across the page. The woman was sketching something, the corner of her tongue poking out of the corner of her lip, her brow creased slightly. She glanced up again, eyes raking over his body before settling on his face. She froze once more, having been caught staring again. She grinned sheepishly but returned to her drawing. Steve relaxed, having put the two and two together. He turned back to wait for the press conference to start, but kept a close eye on her.

The woman flipped the page after a while, and paused to find another person to sketch. Bucky had been watching the side of her head for a while, and when she scanned the area, her eyes settled on him. Bucky sat straighter in his seat, his heart caught in his throat. She noticeably sucked in air, heat rising on her cheeks. She smiled slowly at Bucky, who found himself returning to the smile. She turned back to the paper, her hand quickly move across the sheet. She would peek up through her lashes every few seconds, grinning when she saw the way he was still watching her intently.

Unlike Steve, Bucky wasn’t uncomfortable with being caught staring. It brought back memories from the before the war, having a beautiful dame ogling. He found himself reverting back to what he once was with just a simple look. He grinned, his blue eyes flicking over to Steve who was once again shaking his head at this friend.

“What?” He asked quietly through the com, lifting the cup to cover his mouth. “There’s no harm in it.”

“Bucky-“

“What is with you people?!” Tony all but snarled. “We’re on a mission! Knock it off! And quit looking at each other.”

Bucky and Steve sighed, mumbling an apology. He was right though. They needed to focus. The sound of a phone ringtone broke through their mental berating, both soldiers turning to the woman that sat between them. She fumbled in her backpack, cursing when one of the pockets flipped open the contents spilling out, along with the phone she was searching for. She picked up the phone and answered while scooping up the pencils and erasers that scattered.

“Hello?” She paused mid zip, and then her head popped up. “Are you serious?!”

Steve watched as her expression shifted from disbelief to pure elation. She quickly shoved her sketchbook into her bag, slinging it over her shoulder.

“How is she? Is she okay? Is the baby all good?” She bubbled, scooting the chair back. Steve and Bucky both watched as she moved through the tables, grinning widely to whatever the person was saying on the other end of the phone. “Boy or girl?” She paused. “Yes! You owe 20 bucks! I told you it be a girl! I’ll be right there!”

The woman giggled, giving the two men she had been drawing less than a minute ago a quick happy wave before practically skipping down the street. Steve and Bucky watched her skip away, grinning stupidly to themselves, her happiness infectious. Both looked at each other for a moment, before they broke out into laughter. Today was odd, but that wasn’t as bad as they had thought.

Of course, they were so focused on the woman and her smile, they missed the small balls that fell out with the rest of the contents of her purse. Neither saw her subtle kick of the tiny beads in Bucky’s direction as she moved around the table. They missed the look she sent across the courtyard when she stepped away with her back facing them. They also missed the dark grey respond with matching gold as the woman skipped away. They were too wrapped up in the performance to notice it all.

“Seriously.” Tony barked, now more than annoyed. He twisted in his seat, glaring over to the others that were scattered around the area. “You people need to focus. This is ridiculous, and Oh, my god!” He seethed, turning around to glared at the woman that sat in the seat in front of him. “Do you have to pop your gum so loudly? Is that really professional?”

The woman smirked at him over his shoulder, chuckling low. She tucked her auburn chin-length hair behind her ear and raised a brow at him.

“I’m sorry, does that bother you?” She smiled wide, looking more like the Cheshire cat than a reporter. She rested her elbow on the back of the seat, leaning back. Tony stared at the woman with a flat look, his eye twitching ever so subtly. He had been listening to her pop her gum ever since she sat down half an hour ago. “I gotta ask though. Why are you, Tony Stark, here?”

He folded his arms across his chest, leaning back in his seat. He wasn’t going to answer, but the grin on the woman’s face grew with each second he refused to answer. Right as she was about to turn back around, Tony leaned forward.

“Not that it is any of your business, I’m here because they have some interesting technology that I want to know more about.” It was partly the truth. The woman considered it for a moment, looking him up in down with her steel-grey eyes. They studied his face, grinning at the flinch when she popped her gum again.

“You could just ask somebody for a free walkthrough of their buildings. You are Tony Stark after all.” She pushed, raising a brow. Tony rolled his eyes.

“Tried that. Apparently not even my name will get me a golden ticket.”

The woman hummed, looking to her left. “That’s a shame.”

Curious, Tony looked in the same direction. There was nothing of interest, and when he turned back to the woman she was back to staring. He narrowed his eyes at the woman at a very obnoxious pop of her gum.

“Is there something I can help you with?” The woman shook with glee, trying not laugh outright at the frustration the man had directed to her.

“No, I’ve just never seen you so annoyed before. Normally you’re cool as can be.” She popped her gum again, grinning when he ground his teeth together.

“Maybe it’s because I’ve had to listen to that for the past half hour, and the person responsible for it wouldn’t mind her own damn business.”

“Language,” Steve grunted although he was finding the whole thing rather humorous. Not often did Tony let people get to him so easily, and somehow this woman managed to do it in under half an hour. He made a note to find her later to take notes.

The woman opened her mouth to speak but was stopped her phone began vibrating in her lab. Reluctantly, she turned away from Tony to look at the name. Her loud groan pulled the attention of others around her, all looking rather irritated at her behavior. She lifted her phone, showing the screen to the small crowd she earned.

“Sorry, boss.” She rolled her eyes as she answered. As she said hello, she turned back to Tony, who tensed under her gaze. “What’s up, doc?”

Tony was sure his eyes would have rolled back into the head of his head permanently by now with the number of times he rolled them today. And it was all because of this annoying, boisterous woman. He watched as her grin faltered, before slipping off her face.

“What-No. That was put on your desk yesterday-“ She stopped, flinching at the volume of the voice on the other end. “Alright, alright! Pull your thong out of your ass crack, I’ll get it to you before 3.” She snapped. The voice on the other end was unintelligible, but the tone was clear. They said a few more angry words before hanging up. The woman glared at the phone in her hand. She looked up at Tony, who was feigning disinterest.

“Well, it seems you got your wish Stark.” She muttered, bending down to scoop up her briefcase. Tony watched as she stood, trying to keep in his relief. But he was finding it rather hard to accomplish. “Maybe we’ll see each other around.”

Tony snorted, turning to the podium at the front. People were starting to show, the conference starting momentarily.

“Let’s hope that never happens dear.” He waved her off, dismissing her. He didn’t look back at her as she moved through the rows. If he had, he would have seen the knowing look in her eyes. He was so wrapped up in his frustration, he missed everything. He missed her move when he turned to the left earlier, not even realizing it was all part of the plan. Because of his distraction, he didn’t see when she subtly reached down, sticking a cylinder under the seat. When she popped her gum after he turned back, he missed the quiet beep that came from the cylinder. He missed the small balls that spread on the pavement after she bent to pick up her briefcase, the noise of her standing hiding the taps as the scattered.

When the mic let out a loud squeak, all heads turned to the podium, including the rest of the Avengers. They didn’t pay the retreating reporter any mind, instead focused on the speaker as they stepped up. If they hadn’t, one of them might have noticed the smirk of the woman’s face. They would have seen her reach for her phone, dialing the same number that called earlier. They missed the confirmation that all was in place, that they group didn’t notice a thing.

Y/N nodded, catching the woman’s eyes from across the courtyard. She stood to the left of Abstergo’s entrance, hiding in the shadows, only steps away from where the sponsors stood. Both eyes flashed gold when they acknowledge the other, and the woman ducked around a corner. Y/N turned back to the podium, waiting for the show to begin. Once it did, they’d only have five minutes. Now she could only hope nothing went wrong.

Vanish in the Dark Tag List:

@buckybabybaby @ccehrler @the-echo-of-insanity @aya-fay @kystarlight17 @evra-von-what @sassyandclassyx@alicethecactus @rebsniper @ymstmp-izzi @northscorpio@inumorph @therealwatermelon @locaaednaa @savannahingersoll14 @arrowguyxx @stay-wokke @thehunterismine

(OPEN-let me know if you’d like to be tagged) Also let me know if you’ve asked and I’ve missed you! I didn’t mean to miss you:)

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