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wiypt-writes · 3 years

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Stark Spangled Banner

Ch 5: You Make It Easy

Summary: Steve finally takes Katie out on a date.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: Language! And a whole heap of fluffy fluff fluff.

A/N: Once again, a huge thank you to @angrybirdcr for her lovely little edit.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 4

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

The elation Steve had felt about actually getting a date with Katie soon evaporated the next morning when he realised he hadn’t the first CLUE about where to take her, what to do or what to wear. He wasn’t naïve, he knew dating had changed since his day but the fact he had no reference point to even start from, having never been on a date before, wasn’t helpful either. So he sought some advice

“Okay, right.”

“You know her, Steve.” Peggy looked at him. “What type of food does she like?”

“Italian, Chinese, but we do that all the time.” He shrugged, before he stopped, suddenly remembering something she had said to Evans a couple of weeks back in exercise, “You know, come to think of it she has mentioned a new place in town. La Placa I think it’s called.” “See, there you go.” Peggy patted him on his arm before she smiled at the look on the young man’s face “Just be yourself Steve, that’s who she wants. No one else.”

“Thanks Peg.”

“And make sure you kiss her goodnight…” She grinned, a twinkle in her eyes. “Us ladies do like a bit of passion every now and then you know.” He rolled his eyes at her cheekiness, running his hand through his hair which was in desperate need of a cut. He stayed with Peggy whilst he googled the restaurant number, made his reservation and then text Katie to tell her where he had booked.

Can’t wait xxx

He grinned to himself, and then pushed his phone away and turned back to find Peggy watching him, a sly grin on her face.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this happy before.” she remarked, somewhat wistfully

.He smiled “Been a long time since I felt this good.”

“It suits you.” On his way home he swung into the barbers and stepped in. As he sat in the chair the man asked him what he wanted doing, and he was about to say trim when Katie’s voice stirred in his mind.

“Trying to imagine what you’d look like with shorter hair and a beard…” “Shorn back and sides please,” he said as the man asked him what he wanted, “and take it a little shorter on top.”

******

Katie woke suddenly on top of the comforter on her bed, fully clothed. She’d fallen asleep! She sat up, thinking back to the last thing she remembered before her nap, piecing her train of thought together. Ah, yes, Steve had messaged her to tell her he’d booked a table somewhere which had prompted her to start looking for an outfit. She’d realised she had no idea what to wear so had been debating calling Pepper to ask for advice, but had decided it wasn’t a good idea because she didn’t want Tony to know she was dating yet, let alone who.

But there was someone she could call. Desperate times called for desperate measures, right?

Biting her lip she sighed and picked up her phone, scanning through to the person she was looking for and the cavalry arrived an hour and a half later in the shape of a red-haired deadly assassin.

“There has to be something in here that’s first date suitable…” Natasha mumbled, as she continued to search through the various items in Katie’s closet. Half Katie’s clothes adorned the floor of her walk-in-wardrobe and bedroom as they had discarded everything she’d tried so far. “It would help if I knew where you were going.” she sipped her beer thoughtfully.

“La Placa.” Katie told her after a pause, “Tapas place, but if you turn up I swear to God…”

“I got better things to do with my spare time.” “No you don’t. And I wouldn’t put anything past you.”

“If you don’t trust me why did you ask for my help?“ Natasha drawled, still rifling through the clothing racks. “Because Pepper is a four hour drive away…”

“Well that’s just rude.” Natasha mumbled and Katie grinned, shaking her head as Nat placed her beer down on the top of a set of drawers and moved to a rail “Ok, try this.”

She pulled out a knee length navy blue Balenciaga dress with a fitted top half, scalloped neck line and three-quarter length lace detailed sleeves. As Katie shrugged it on, Natasha hunted in the shoe rack, pulling out a pair of mid-height nude Kurt Geiger courts with a stiletto heel and matching bag.

“Not bad.” She mumbled as Katie stepped into the heels and gave her a twirl.

“Better than the grey one?” “Definitely.” Natasha nodded approvingly “I think we have a winner!”

Katie gave her a double Hi-Five and Nat picked up her beer as Katie stripped out of the dress and pulled on her T-shirt and shorts, before she glanced around the large bedroom, sighing at the mess.

“Better tidy this up in case things go well.” Nat smirked, before she pondered “Huh, actually, do you reckon Captain America puts out on the first date? Mind you, knowing Roger’s he’s probably a virgin…”

“I’m pretty sure people had casual sex back in the 40s too you know.” Katie rolled her eyes. “He was on the USO tours surrounded by dancing girls, there’s no way he didn’t do the old horizontal tango.”

“Yeah but…its Rogers.” Nat pressed giving a snort “Imagine if you are the one to pop his cherry.”

Katie groaned, shaking her head. “Shut up Widow.”

She smirked “Okay, so how long have we got?”

Katie glanced at her phone “An hour and twenty. And what do you mean we?” “You asked for my help, right?” Natasha shrugged, “Thought I could do your make-up and hair too…” Katie looked at her for a moment and smiled “Thanks.” She shrugged then drained her beer before turning Katie round and pushing her towards the en-suite “Go shower then we’ll start the transformation.”

An hour later Katie was ready. Her hair was curled in soft waves, and her makeup was done, a bit heavier than normal, but still subtle enough to avoid looking like it had been applied with a trowel.

“Perfect.” Nat gave her an appraising look. “Right, I trust you can get dressed without me?” “I think I’ll manage.” Katie said, standing up as she made her way out of the walk-in wardrobe and followed her into the hall where she picked up her jacket.

“Oh and if you need me to bail you, just give me an SOS call…” Nat made a phone sign with her finger and pinkie by her ear. “I think I’ll be ok.” Katie smiled, “but thank you, for all of this.”

“Have fun…” Nat grinned and then added with a smirk “And don’t do anything I wouldn’t”

“That doesn’t exactly leave a lot…” Katie quipped

“That’s my point.” Natasha intoned as she walked into the hall and pressed the button for the elevator.

“Nat, you won’t tell anyone will you?” Katie asked, “I mean, it isn’t that I don’t trust you, just…” Nat paused turning back to the brunette to find her chewing her lip with nerves. She shook her head “I won’t tell a soul. I know how much you two like each other, you’ve been dancing around it for months, so… just enjoy ok? Have a good time. You both deserve it.” “Thanks Nat” Katie smiled. The two girls shared a quick hug and then Nat left

***** Steve had to admit, he liked his new hair. It was much more like the style people sported now, but in a way it also reminded him of how Bucky had worn his back in the Howlies. He picked a light blue shirt, his dark navy jeans and then pondered before settling on a pair of brown boots that matched his jacket and belt. He was ready with plenty of time and found himself pacing as he thought about how the night could go. There was no doubt it was going to be way different to how he had imagined his first date to be. Back in his day it was movies, dinner and a dance. Now there were no dance halls, and they watched movies all the time. But, as Peggy had advised, for once he was going to “go with the flow” and just see where the night took them both.

Finally, after an agonising fifteen minutes during which he had pretty much paced non-stop and drained a good measure of scotch, even though it did nothing bar give him a comforting burn in his throat on the way down, he headed to the cab that was waiting and they set off to pick up his date.

Jesus Christ she looked amazing. Her hair was cascading in waves over her shoulders, the smoky brown eyeshadow she was wearing made the green in her eyes even more noticeable. And her dress…navy blue, knee length with a detailed neckline and sleeves that finished halfway down her forearms. The top half clung to her body where it flared out slightly from her hips and her heels accentuated her shapely calves to perfection. As Steve looked at her he found himself imagining various crude scenarios where said delectable dress ended up on the floor, but that wasn’t gentlemanly. Nor appropriate.

Katie felt her breath catch when she saw Steve. His light blue shirt was tight enough to accentuate his ridiculously well-built top half, and a brown belt with a gold buckle adorned his toned waist. And he’d had a haircut. Gone were his longer locks and side parting, and in its place was a short back and sides with slightly longer strands on the top, tousled into an exceptionally modern style. He looked incredible.

Steve broke the silence between the two, clearing his throat gently.

“You look beautiful.” He leaned down to give her a peck on the cheek.

“Thank you, you look pretty good yourself, you do something to your hair?” Katie teased.

“Thought it was time for a change.” he shrugged it off casually as his cheeks warmed. “Still getting used to it.” “It looks great.” she assured him.

He beat her to her jacket as she reached up to take it off the peg and held it out so she could shrug her arms into it. Once they were in the elevator, he reached out and took her hand and she laced her fingers into his. He glanced down at her, his eyes meeting hers and she flashed him a smile.

Yeah, he’d lucked out, big time.

******

The restaurant was busy but not packed. They were seated at the back in a little booth in the corner. Steve had never had tapas before, but Peggy had explained it to him before.

“So the idea is we pick, what, three or four dishes?” he asked, looking at Katie

“Yeah, they’re like small portions and you share.” Katie nodded. “Although you eat like a horse so we should probably order more.”

He grinned and looked back at his menu.

“You choose.” he placed the card back down eventually, beaten by the list of items. “I literally have no idea…”

“Alright.” Katie grinned. “But you have to try everything…”

“Deal.”

The waiter returned with their drinks and took their food orders. Katie ordered a large enough selection along with a side order of olives and different breads with dipping oils before flashing the waiter a smile and he scuttled off.

“I think this is normally the part where we ask each other questions,” Steve said as the waiter disappeared. “You know, get to know each other a bit more.”

“Yeah… think that ship already sailed though.”

“True,” Steve nodded bashfully, there wasn’t many things that they didn’t know about each other, although as he watched Katie was biting her lip, almost as if she wanted to say something, but at the same time didn’t.

“What is it?” he asked, reaching out for his drink.

“Something Nat said before…” Katie flushed, caught out. There was no way she was asking that question.

“Why does this worry me slightly?” He paused, beer raised halfway to his lips.

Katie looked at him and shook her head, the flush continuing to rise up her neck “Yeah, I’m not, it’s not first date conversation.”

He cocked his head to one side. “Now I’m extremely worried, and a little intrigued.”

“You really want to know?” Katie cocking her head to one side and when he nodded she shrugged. “Alright, you asked for this…” she straightened up in the seat as he did the same, bracing himself. “Are you a virgin?”

Steve groaned and screwed his eyes shut. “No, I’m not.” He sighed shaking his head before he looked back at her. "After I first got the serum there was suddenly all this attention on me and I didn’t really know any better…” “There was no one before?” she frowned slightly, almost as if she was surprised.

He shook his head again. “Girls weren’t exactly interested in me before hand, Bucky was the one who had the looks and the swag. He had a different girl every weekend. I guess when they finally did start looking at me that way I just, I dunno…” He stopped and took a breath. “God, this makes me sound like a right jerk. There weren’t that many”

Three to be exact. And none of them had been anything to write home about. He got the distinct impression they hadn’t particularly enjoyed themselves either, not past the fact they could boast about having bedded Captain America. Plus, he was infatuated by Peggy at that point as well and found he craved the tenderness that was supposed to be associated with the act, not merely the physical bliss. As corny as it sounded, he genuinely wanted someone to be with him intimately that wanted him, not Captain America.

As he watched, he noticed Katie was watching him intently and he swallowed a little as she simply shrugged. .

“We all have a past Steve.”

“I haven’t been with anyone since I came out of the ice.” He added softly, feeling the need to explain that he wasn’t that type of man.

“I haven’t since Grant.” she eyed him. “One night stands are overrated.”

“I wouldn’t know.” He shrugged, locking eyes with her. “That’s all I ever had.”

Katie studied him for a moment. She had no idea why, but to learn he hadn’t had a girl that way before he became some kind of war time celebrity, and knowing that the ones he had been with were probably chasing nothing but the kudos of being able to say they fucked Captain America, made her kind of sad. No wonder he was always so self-doubting.

She smiled and reached across the table, giving his hand a squeeze.

“Well, personally, I think all those girls that picked Bucky over you were dumbasses. I’ve seen the photos of you before all this happened…” she raised her free hand and held out her index finger, and gestured up and down his torso. “You were sweet”

He chuckled and took a drink of his beer. “You know I heard that a lot…you’re really sweet and all but…“

“Like I said…”she leaned back in her chair slightly, “Dumbasses” Steve was aware that her ankle was brushing against his slightly and he felt the warm flush in his cheek at her forwardness, but soon found it disappeared and was replaced instead with simply enjoying the fact she wanted to be so close to him.

As tactful as ever, Katie swiftly moved the conversation on and it took a natural turn to Tony’s renovation of the tower and then New York in general, how much Brooklyn in particular had changed since Steve had left it behind to go to war.

It was through this conversation Steve discovered that in all the time Katie had spent in New York she had never been to Coney Island.

“Maybe I could take you one day, down to the fair.” He suggested.

“I’d love that.” She smiled and his chest swelled even more.

Their food arrived and they continued to talk. And, considering they had started the date off thinking there wasn’t much more to find out about each other, both of them were surprised to see exactly how much trivial stuff there was to learn about the other. For instance, Steve knew that Katie enjoyed baseball but what he didn’t know was that whilst Tony was a Yankees fan, she actually supported the LA Dodgers, having grown up in Malibu. Suddenly her teasing about the fact they had moved made perfect sense. And in turn, Katie knew that the Dodgers relocating was a bug bear of his but, since he would rather go into the ice all over again than support the Yankees, he had started watching out for the Mets results, but apparently it just wasn’t the same and as such he hadn’t been to an actual game since he came out of the ice. Both of them found out the other preferred dogs to cats, cats making Katie sneeze and their ability to hiss and scratch you with no damned warning whatsoever made Steve not trust them as far as he could throw them.

“I can just read the headlines now!” Katie chuckled after Steve had added that if he wanted to he could probably throw a cat quite far. “Captain America killed my Cat.” Steve let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as he picked up his beer. “Don’t cats always land on their feet?” “I dunno, depends how hard you’re intending on throwing it.” “I’m not intending on throwing any cat anywhere.” Steve shook his head “As much as I don’t like them I couldn’t deliberately harm one.” “Tony did. Well not deliberately, and he didn’t so much harm it as kill it…” “Oh you gotta tell me this story!” Steve grinned, leaning forward, topping up Katie’s wine glass from the bottle that was in the ice bucket in the middle of the table.

Katie grinned, “When we were kids, the first place we lived in was down this huge, posh road with like 3 other houses on and we had this really eccentric neighbour, Mrs Livesy her name was. She had like 18 cats or something ridiculous and one morning, Tony was reversing the car out of the garage and he flattened 2 of them.”

Steve nearly spat his beer back into his glass. “He ran them over?” “Yeah…” Katie said, and by now she was full on laughing “But the best bit is, she comes round asking Dad if he’s seen the cats, dad’s got no idea what’s gone on right as Tony’s moved the cats and bribed me to keep quiet with the biggest ice cream you could imagine, so dad is all like ‘I’ve got no idea Mrs Livesy I’ll be sure to keep my eyes open…” Katie took a deep breath, wiping at her eyes “So then Tony comes back, Dad mentions that Mrs Livesy was looking for 2 of her cats and Tony’s like ‘huh, well you know what they say, curiosity killed the cat’ and me, being the little shit I was at the age of 4 pipes up ‘no that was you this morning, remember?’”

Steve laughed, and watched as she carried on giggling. “He never forgave me for that, Dad made him go round and apologise. And he had to attend a memorial for Mr Whiskers and Bagpuss…”

Eventually after desert and a few more drinks it was time to leave, Katie tried to split the meal bill with Steve but one stern look stopped that in its tracks. This was a date, he was paying. Thankfully she didn’t argue too much. Steve then asked her if she wanted to go for a drink, she gleefully accepted so he took her hand, gently leading her across the road, holding the bar door open for her. They both sat at the bar, Katie turning her seat so she was directly facing him, the pair of them leaning closer to one another as they talked. And the conversation just continued to flow, as did the odd but subtle display of affection, moving their chairs closer together, her hand on his shoulder. Steve was surprised to find how easy the whole thing was. He had no nerves, no awkward moments. The chemistry fizzled and there wasn’t a single moment he was stuck for anything to say. It was for that reason he was disappointed when the bar tender called time and reluctantly stood up as Katie drained the final bit of gin from her glass.

As Steve held out her jacket, his hands gently brushed her shoulders as she shrugged it on, sending a tingle down her spine and the hitch in her breathing didn’t go unnoticed. She turned to face him, all green eyes and pink lips, blinking as her eyes locked onto his and before he could stop them, his hands connected at the base of her spine as she moved closer to him, not moving her gaze from his, hand resting on his chest.

“I’d really like to kiss you again…” Steve said, shyly.

“You know you don’t have to ask.” she replied. Smiling softly he leaned down and connected his lips with hers, the kiss growing slightly deeper until Steve remembered they were in the middle of a public bar. He pulled away gently, resting his forehead against hers briefly, blushing like an absolute moron as a small smile tugged on the corners of his mouth.

“You know, for someone who said they’d never taken a woman on a date before Rogers, you’ve done amazingly well.” she blinked up at him, grinning.

“That’s because you make it easy to be around you.” He shrugged, honestly. He took her hand, curled his fingers round hers and made their way out into the street to hail a cab.

All too soon they pulled up outside her apartment block and both of them found themselves wishing the night would never end. Steve told the driver to wait whilst he hopped out and walked her into the lobby, their hands still twined together. There was a part of him that wanted to follow her in, and a part of her that almost invited him to, but they both wanted to do this right, take their time.

“I think now is the part where I’m supposed to ask you if you had a good time.” Steve turned to face her as they stopped by the elevator door.

“I did.”

“And if you’d go out with me again?” “I already said I would, Coney Island remember?” she replied cheekily, leaning closer to him.

“I meant before that.” He rolled his eyes.

“I’d love too.” She muttered, and then his lips were on hers again and they were kissing, exactly where they had left off in the bar, only this time they were alone. Steve’s hand snaked into her soft hair, angling her head slightly and she parted her lips, their tongues tangling easily as once more the fireworks erupted deep in Steve’s belly.

“Always leave ‘em wanting more Stevie…” Bucky said, nudging him on the arm, winking as they crossed the fairground towards the girls “That’s the trick…”

Steve couldn’t stop himself from smiling he pulled back. Their night was at an end, it was a perfect place to leave it.

“I really did had a great time tonight, thank you.” Katie whispered as he pressed his forehead to hers, giving her lips another quick peck before he stepped back a little and she reached into her bag for her key card, pressing it to the pad by the elevator.

“Me too.” He smiled as the elevator doors opened. She stepped inside, turning to face him and flashed him another grin.

“Night Stevie.”

“Night, Sweetheart.” He replied as the doors shut. With that, he turned round and grinning to himself he walked back to the cab. Date 1 down, and it had been a roaring success.

**** Chapter 6

**Original Posting**

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #katie stark #chris evans #chris evans characters #mcu #mcu fanfic

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lokidoki-imagines · 4 years

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Bedroom Hymns Part II

Pairing: Loki x Fem!Reader

Content/Warnings: Mentions of sex, second hand embarrassment, enemies-friends-lovers, swearing

If you wanna be on the tag list, please inbox me as I think most people on my old one probably don’t wanna be now I’ve been gone that long 😂🙈

Word Count: 1520

“Good morning Y/N.”

You steeled yourself to look up and meet his eyes, cheeks burning furiously as you met his eyes they held something you couldn’t quite place.

“Ah brother!” Thor boomed as you kept eye contact with Loki, “I was beginning to think you were off causing more mischief.”

Pulling his gaze away he stepped around you, leaving you standing frozen in the doorway. “I was sleeping.” You watched him as he pottered around the kitchen as if nothing had happened, placing bread in the toaster and pouring himself a cup of steaming coffee...you weren’t sure what you were expecting.

“Must have been some sleep, you’re usually an early riser.” Thor probed as Loki leant easily against the opposite counter.

“Oh it was.” He smirked into his coffee cup, his eyes flicking briefly over to yours as he took a sip.

With burning cheeks you wanted to say something, anything, in that moment. You realised that the issue with that however, would be that it would allude to your friends what you did, or rather who you did last night.

“Y/N shall I show you that dress I was telling you about?” Confused, you made to tell Jane that she hadn’t told you about a dress, grabbing your arm and walking away you followed after Jane until you reached her room.

“You slept with Loki?!” She shouted as your eyes widened and cheeks grew hot as you stuttered. “What? No. Loki? Psh.” Laughing a little you turned around and rearranged her sofa cushions.

You could feel her eyes on your back, “You did!” She gasped, “You slept with Loki!”

Face crumpling you spun around and clamped a hand over her mouth, “Shhhh! Shh!”

You moved your hand away as a smug grin worked its way onto her face. “Say it any louder and the whole bloody compound will hear you.” You muttered as you sank onto the sofa. Pulling your hair through your hands you sighed at your friend, “Go on.” You gestured.

“How was it? Did you enjoy it? Are you two a thing now then? How many times?” You watched as her face and arms became more and more animated as the questions continued. “How did you -”

“Okay!” You cut her off squeezing your eyes shut, “Okay.” Taking a deep breath in you shrugged. “I can’t really remember -”

“Bullshit!” Jane laughed as she sat on the coffee table opposite you.

“Fine!” You flopped backwards on the sofa and covered your face with your hands, “Fine! I can remember most of it and it was probably hands down the best sex I’ve had to date, happy?” Sitting up and rubbing your face you smiled, “Great talk Jane, do me a favour and don’t mention this to lover boy?”

Standing up and moving to the door she tugged you back, shoving you back onto the sofa. “Oh no, you’re not getting away that easily.”

Silence filled the room as you both sat lost in your own thoughts.

“Did you wrap it?” Eyes trained on the ceiling you were caught off guard. “What?”

“Did you wrap it?” She repeated as your mind whirled. Did you? You couldn’t remember. You didn’t see one this morning and there wasn’t a wrapper on the bedside table. How did he -

“Shit.” You mumbled, the memory of Loki definitely not pulling out played back in your head. “Shit!” You shouted sitting bolt upright searching the sofa for your phone.

“Y/N it’s fine I’m sure,”

Grabbing your phone you shouted a quick sorry to Jane as you ran out, one destination in mind. Running back to your room you stripped off and pulled on last nights jeans and a sweater before grabbing your purse and racing out the door.

Out the door and straight into Loki. Again.

“Shit Loki!” He looked down at you as you picked up your fallen purse.

“We've got to stop meeting like this.” He joked, was that nerves in his voice? “I’m sure the last time I saw those jeans they were on my bedroom floor.”

Straightening up you nodded along before walking away. “Hey,” he called, jogging quickly to catch up with you. “hey, wait.” Grabbing your wrist he pulled you to a stop, a questioning look on his face. “Am I so bad that you can’t even talk -”

“I-need-to-get-the-morning-after-pill.” Cutting him off embarrassed you watched his face morph into more confusion. Please don’t make me explain this Loki.

“I don’t follow, what’s the morning after pill?” Ignoring the way his eyebrows quirked inwards a little as he spoke, you frowned.

With a hammering heart you shrugged him off and walked away, “Use your imagination Loki.”

He was quick at your heels down the corridor as you took a right. “Will you just stop and -” You took a left, “Y/N for the love of -”

“Hey!” You squealed, feeling arms wrap around your waist as he picked you up. He dropped you in an alcove, once again with your back against the wall and him caging you in. “Will you please just explain.”

Groaning as you dragged your hands over your face for the 10th time that morning you looked up at him, ignoring your shaky voice. “It’s birth control.” He stared blankly. “To stop me from getting pregnant? After we did the two man tango?” His face seemed to drop as it sunk in. “There we go, now he realises what I mean.”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “Can you just not joke for just one minute -”

“Oh trust me, I’m so beyond joking right now.”

You stayed there for a beat or two, neither of you speaking or moving. You watched as he seemed to be fighting with himself on what to say, you always assumed that Loki would have been skilled with the ladies. A smooth talker through and through since he always seems to have an answer for everything, but now, stood here in an alcove in pyjamas, the Silvertongue was stuck for words.

You put an awkward hand on his arm, pulling is attention back to you. “I need to go to the pharmacy now.”

Nodding mutely, he stepped aside as you walked away.

“Y/N?” He called as you went to turn the corner. “I’m sorry.”

Frowning, you walked away.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Having to explain to the old man in the pharmacy that you needed the morning after pill was the most mortifying experience to date.

He’d started off by saying how much you looked like his granddaughter, how much of a good girl she is and how much of a good girl you must be because you’re so alike.

‘It’s that angelic face of yours’

He didn’t think you were so angelic when you asked for the morning after pill.

After questions about nearly everything save for the positions you two did, you finally managed to take that bloody pill.

“$55 for this,” You mumbled to yourself in your car as you looked at the tiny pill between your fingers. Popping it in your mouth and taking a drink of water, you swallowed quickly before chucking the bottle on your passenger seat.

Message from Jane: ‘Did you take it yet?’

“Thank God, yes.” You spoke out loud, typing away as another message came through.

‘We need to talk. Properly.’

You know you needed to. There was no point in avoiding it forever, it wouldn’t be too awkward right? You had already seen him after all. And it’s not like you’d been caught by him this morning when you were butt ass naked.

Almost all of your memories from the previous night had come back by this point, the hangover had worn off with the help of some painkillers and berocca. You leant against the steering wheel as the memories played out over and over.

“You know, you’re not so bad when you're not faking it.” You giggled, leaning back against the island. “Faking it?” He laughed from opposite you, his arms folded over his chest.

Placing your cocktail down behind you, you nodded. “Yeah you faker, with the whole ‘I’m better than all of you’ act you do. Like you don’t ever want to get close to anyone.”

“Oh? I never want to get close to anyone?”

Licking your lips you couldn’t help but notice how nice Loki looked in a white shirt. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows which exposed his toned arms, something you’d never noticed before. “Nah, otherwise you’d let someone in. Even if it was just Thor.”

Loki pushed away from the counter and stalked closer slowly, his eyes fixed on the ground. “And what if I wanted someone other than Thor?” Placing his hands either side of your hips, you watched as his eyes raked up your body, the strong smell of his Asgardian mead falling from his lips.

“Oh?” You breathed, your vision swimming as you tilted your head upwards.

“Oh.” He replied, closing the gap as your lips met.

Throwing your phone next to your bottle, you ignored the text and began driving home, your vision swimming once again.

#loki imagine #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki x oc #loki drabble #thor ragnarok imagine #thor ragnarok #loki laufeyson x you #loki laufeyson imagine #slow burn #friends to lovers #loki multi chap #multi chapter #multichapter

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hellyeahomeland · 4 years

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Things Carrie Wore This Week

TCWTW hive, last week we ate. This week, we feast.

This is the same ensemble Carrie was wearing at the end of last week’s episode but I just have to say I totally love it. Carrie in all black is perfection.

Her earrings are these little silver dome studs. Remember when Carrie wearing earrings was a surprising occurrence? Props to the costume department this season because Carrie has worn ALL THE EARRINGS and looked great doing it.

~the last Theory pantsuit~

She buttoned both buttons... again. I was exasperated last week... I’m now so mellow about it all that I don’t even care. Hey, it’s waist-defining. You do you, Carrie!

She did TUCK IN HER SHIRT. I’m gasping!!! The shirt is (probably) a long-sleeve blouse, in this actually very nice olive-y green color that looks more brownish here. This is great, too! Sorry, I’m reveling in the tucked shirt. If she’d done a French tuck I would have passed through to another dimension.

Interlude the First:

Bonus ~Things Tasneem Wore This Week~

This fucking gorgeous ~eggplant~ ensemble. This is officially my favorite of the season, but purple is my favorite color so I’m not impartial. And the pearls! Which, per Nimrat Kauer, are actually her mother’s? I love that! I love this show! Thank you life, thank you love, it is true, there are some angels in this city!

Anyway, where were we?

Oh, right! Carrie goes to the West Bank and throws on this actually lovely dark teal Henley. This is fabulous! I love the sleeve length. The color is wonderful and looks tremendous on her.

Here’s the full look. Her dependable black skinny jean, the black suede boots. Oh, and the gun. This is your look, Carrie. This is an A. Bravo.

Interlude the Second:

~Bonus Things Hugh Dancy Wore This Week~

ANOTHER FUCKING KNITTED TIE. I am beyond amused at this homie and his tragique facial hair and his $10,000 suits and his Park Slope knitted tie.

I’m just... honestly kudos to Hugh Dancy for bringing the ultimate sliminess to this role. He was overjoyed, you could tell. But these knitted ties. How many does he have? Eighteen? In different shades of blue and grey? Anyhoozles, I’m sure John Zabel landed squarely on his feet and is headlining his own Fox News primetime show.

ARE YOU ALL READY? WE’RE ABOUT TO GO TWO YEARS INTO THE FUTURE.

How does one describe the feeling when the camera slowly pans over to Carrie Mathison, hair perfectly curled, sitting in her beautifully- yet moodily-lit Moscow penthouse at her vanity, wearing a silk robe in a lovely shade of mauve, applying mascara? Remember that other dimension I mentioned above? I’M IN IT.

I’m... speechless. You know that meme that’s like “when you listen to your new favorite song so many times that you eventually get sick of it”? I’m in danger of reaching that territory.

She’s wearing lingerie?? She’s smiling?????? She!!!!!!!!!!

(admittedly the lingerie doesn’t fit that well but WHO GIVES A SHIT)

(we’re all in agreement that everything Carrie wears in the last twenty minutes has been a gift from Yevgeny because he is apparently rolling in cash and loves to shower her with presents, right? and she indulges him because she loves him and she knows she looks fucking awesome?)

PAUSE to just take in this scene:

The mid-century-style vanity with all her makeup neatly arranged. Y’all, I’m wheezing!!

His and hers stools at the foot of the bed.

The largeness of it. This bedroom is massive!! I thought Saul’s bedroom was giant (it is), this is on another level.

“I just like how he’s always leaning. Against stuff. He leans great.”

Another smile. God, these close-mouthed smiles, I’m truly in another reality.

ANYWAY: the necklace. It’s a Dominique Cohen “diamond pendant necklace (large), in 18k yellow gold, 22-inch chain,” 0.85 carats of white diamonds. It is now officially called “the Carrie” and you can buy it for the low, low price of $3600 (really, it’s on sale).

Yevgeny being a man who knows jewelry is so damn on brand it’s ridiculous.

Not the series but IJLTP.

Interlude the Third: Carrie and Yevgeny: A Height Difference Made in Heaven

(married couple)

(how is he so giant)

(she’s wearing heels and still just comes up to his chin!!!!)

They’re a match made in heaven, and that’s actually where I am right now.

THE COAT. THE HEELS. It’s hard to tell in this photo but her toenails are also painted black. In case we had any doubt that Carrie is living her best life!!

This coat is gorgeous and so unexpected. They could have just had her wear a more standard black peacoat, but instead they went with this decidedly more elegant textured (beaded?) number. Also, Yevgeny had the coat waiting for her when she walked down the stairs. Did she pick this out beforehand? It’s very much an evening coat, I’m just wondering how he knew that’s what she’d want to wear.

Good God the last twenty minutes of this episode are just Carrie looking stunning and radiant. It’s what we deserve, and we absolutely love to see it!

Ok, the earrings! They are also Dominique Cohen (and therefore almost certainly a previous gift from Yevgeny?), specifically the 1.5-inch oval diamond hoops in 18k yellow gold with 0.44 carats of white diamonds. You can get them for the low, low price of $2750 (again, they’re on sale!).

Y’ALL. THEY MADE A CARRIE COLLECTION. CARRIE MATHISON HAS A COLLECTION. OF JEWELRY. NAMED AFTER HER.

My girl’s not just surviving, she’s thriving.

The outfit. The top is by Narciso Rodriguez, from his pre-fall 2018 collection: “matte black sequin embroidered one-shoulder silk top.”

Given that Claire Danes’ favorite designer is Narciso Rodriguez and they are dear friends, do we think this is from Claire’s own wardrobe? ‘Twould be fitting, I’ll say that. The whole ~lewk (especially the asymmetry!) is so Claire it’s wild.

I”m fairly certain the skirt is Narciso Rodriguez too, because why not?!

The much-speculated-about purse is the Tango bag by Tissa Fontaneda (sells for $770, but she bought two so that’s $1540). Again, très distinct. The taste!

CARRIE HAS A TANLINE. CARRIE A. MATHISON.

From which remote beach location did they just return? Croatia, maybe? Or Fiji? Please let me know your thoughts.

By the way, it goes without saying how fabulous Carrie looks. She looks gorgeous. The curled hair is... *chef’s kiss* It got me thinking whether this is a look (the curled hair) she goes with more often than not now... I can’t decide!

The ring! What an unusual ring. I love how geometric it is. God, Carrie wearing three distinct pieces of jewelry is something I’ll never get over. I’m also calling that this is one of Claire’s own, since my favorite ever credit in a Claire Danes photoshoot is “rings: Danes’ own.”

Interlude the Last: Claire Danes Wearing Eyeglasses

The ponytail.

Her Zoom username being “Le iPad (2)” is sending me.

I had to include this because this is a thing Carrie wore. Love the (presumably white) Oxford shirt. This photo will always haunt me. This is Carrie too. No one’s just one thing.

What is Carrie wearing at the end? How about an honest-to-God smile?

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

IN CONCLUSION: I LOVE YOU, CARRIE.

#phew what a journey #homeland #homelandedit #things carrie wore this week #carrie mathison #prisoners of war #*#god i'm so overwhelmed #i'm getting choked up #favorite #by: sara #carrie mathison: an icon a legend and she IS the moment

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what-is-your-plan-today · 5 years

Text

Stark Spangled Banner Ch5: You Make It Easy

Summary: It’s date night, and it’s its a coin toss between who is the most nervous, Steve or Katie....

Pairing: Steve Rogers x O/C Katie Stark

Warnings: Bad language

May 2013

The elation Steve had felt about actually getting a date with Katie soon evaporated the next morning when he realised he hadn’t the first CLUE where to take her or what to wear.

So he sought some advice

“A nice shirt and jeans.” Peggy smiled at him, the old woman elated he had finally done it. “Nothing too flash, and pick a restaurant. It doesn’t have to be fancy, women are more impressed by a man who’s paying them attention, interested in them, it isn’t’ about the flashing of cash.” “Come to think of it she has mentioned a new place in town.” Steve said, suddenly remembering that she had asked Evans one morning in Exercise if he had tried it yet. “La Placa I think it’s called.” “Well there you go.” Peggy patted him on his arm before she smiled at the look on the young man’s face “Just be yourself Steve, that’s who she wants. No one else.”

“Thanks Peg.”

“And make sure you kiss her goodnight…” she grinned, a twinkle in her eyes “Us ladies do like a bit of passion every now and then you know.” He rolled his eyes at her cheekiness, running his hand through his hair which was in desperate need of a cut. He stayed with Peggy whilst he googled the restaurant number, made his reservation and then text Katie to tell her where he had booked.

Can't wait xxx

He grinned to himself, and then pushed his phone away and turned back to find Peggy watching him, a sly grin on her face.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this happy before.” she said, somewhat wistfully

.He smiled “Been a long time since I felt this good.” he said honestly.

“Trying to imagine what you’d look like with shorter hair and a beard…” Fuck it. “Shorn back and sides please” he said, “and take it a little shorter on top.”

******

Katie woke suddenly on top of the comforter on her bed, fully clothed. She’d fallen asleep! She sat up, thinking back to the last thing she remembered before her nap, piecing her train of thought together. Ah, yes, Steve had messaged her to tell her he’d booked a table somewhere which had prompted her to start looking for an outfit. She’d realised she had no idea what to wear so had been debating calling Pepper to ask for advice. And she had decided it wasn’t a good idea because she didn’t want Tony to know she was dating yet, let alone who. This had then got her thinking about the first time they had all met when Loki had taken the Tesseract, which must had jogged that particular memory…what a fucked up place the human mind could be at times.

And then she remembered. Shit, she still didn’t have an outfit sorted! Biting her lip she sighed and picked up her phone, scanning through to the person she was looking for. Desperate times called for desperate measures, right?

The cavalry arrived an hour and a half later in the shape of a red-haired deadly assassin.

“La Placa.” Katie said after a pause, “Tapas place…but if you turn up I swear to God…”

“I got better things to do with my spare time…” Nat shrugged. “No you don’t.” Katie replied, “And I wouldn’t put anything past you.”

“If you don’t trust me why did you ask for my help?“ “Because Pepper is a 4 hour drive away…”

“Well that’s just rude…” Natasha mumbled and Katie grinned, shaking her head as Nat placed her beer down on the top of a set of drawers and moved to a rail “Ok, try this…”

She pulled out a knee length Balenciaga dress with a fitted top half, scalloped neck line and three-quarter length sleeves. As Katie shrugged it on, Natasha hunted in the shoe rack, pulling out a pair of mid-height red Kurt Geiger courts with a chunky gold heel and matching bag.

“Not bad.” She mumbled as Katie stepped into the heels and gave her a twirl.

“Better than the grey one?” “Definitely.” She said, nodding “I think we have a winner!”

Katie gave her a double Hi-Five and Nat picked up her beer as Katie stripped out of the dress and pulled on her T-shirt and shorts, before she glanced around the large bedroom, sighing at the mess.

“Better tidy this up in case things go well.” Nat smirked, before she pondered “Huh, actually, do you reckon Captain America puts out on the first date?”

“Jesus Nat…” Katie shook her head.

“Mind you, knowing Roger’s he’s probably a virgin…”

“Yeah but…its Rogers.” Nat pressed giving a snort “Imagine if you are the one to pop his cherry.”

Katie groaned, shaking her head. “Shut up Widow.”

She smirked “Ok, so how long have we got?”

Katie glanced at her phone “An hour and 20 minutes. And what do you mean we?” “You asked for my help, right?” she shrugged, “Thought I could do your make-up and hair too…” Katie looked at her for a moment and smiled “Thanks.” She shrugged then drained her beer before turning Katie round and pushing her towards the en-suite “Go shower then we’ll start the transformation.”

An hour later Katie was ready. Her hair was curled in soft waves, and her makeup was done, a bit heavier than normal, but still subtle enough to avoid looking like it had been applied with a trowel.

“Perfect…” Nat said, giving her an appraising look. “Right, I trust you can get dressed without me.” “I think I’ll manage.” Katie said, standing up as she made her way out of the walk-in wardrobe/dressing room and followed her into the hall where she picked up her jacket.

“Oh and if you need me to bail you, just give me an SOS call…” Nat said, making a phone sign with her finger and pinkie by her ear. “I think I’ll be ok.” Katie smiled, “but thank you, for all of this.”

“Have fun…” she said, and then added with a smirk “And don’t do anything I wouldn’t”

“That doesn’t exactly leave a lot…” Katie quipped

“That’s my point.” Natasha intoned as she walked into the hall and pressed the button for the elevator.

Finally, after an agonising 15 minutes during which he had pretty much paced non-stop and drained a good measure of scotch, even though it did nothing bar give him a comforting burn in his throat on the way down, he headed to the cab that was waiting and they set off to pick up his date.

Jesus Christ she looked amazing. Her hair was cascading in waves over one shoulder, the smoky brown eyeshadow she was wearing made the green in her eyes even more noticeable. And her dress… black, knee length with a detailed neckline and sleeves that finished halfway down her forearms. The top half clung to her body where it flared out slightly from her hips and her red heels accentuated her shapely calves to perfection. As Steve looked at her he found himself imagining various crude scenarios where that dress ended up on the floor, but that wasn’t gentlemanly. Nor appropriate.

Katie felt her breath catch when she saw Steve. His light blue shirt was tight enough to accentuate his ridiculously well built top half, and a brown belt with a gold buckle adorned his toned waist. And he’d had a haircut. Gone were his longer locks and side parting, and in its place was a short back and sides with slightly longer strands on the top, tousled into an exceptionally modern style. He looked incredible.

Steve broke the silence between the two, clearing his throat gently.

“You look beautiful.” He said, leaning down to give her a peck on the cheek.

“Thank you, you look pretty good yourself, you do something to your hair?” Katie teased.

“Thought it was time for a change.” he said, shrugging it off casually as his cheeks warmed. “Still getting used to it.” “It looks great.” she assured him.

Yeah, he’d lucked out, big time.

******

The restaurant was busy but not packed. They were seated at the back in a little booth in the corner. Steve had never had tapas before, but Peggy had explained it to him before.

“So the idea is we pick, what, 3 or 4 dishes?” he asked, looking at Katie

“Yeah, they’re like small portions and you share.” Katie nodded. “Although you eat like a horse so we should probably order more…”

He grinned and looked back at his menu.

“You pick,” he said, putting the menu back down eventually, beaten by the various choices. “I literally have no idea…”

“Alright…” she grinned. “But you have to try everything…”

“Deal.”

The waiter returned with their drinks and took their food orders. Katie ordered, 3 meat dishes, 3 fish, 3 veg and then a side order of olives and different breads with dipping oils before flashing the waiter a smile and he scuttled off.

“I think this is normally the part where we ask each other questions,” Steve said as the waiter disappeared. “You know, get to know each other a bit more.”

“Yeah… think that ship already sailed though.”

“True,” Steve said nodding bashfully, there wasn’t many things that they didn’t know about each other, although as he watched Katie was biting her lip, almost as if she wanted to say something, but at the same time didn’t.

“What is it?” he asked, reaching out for his drink.

“Something Nat said before…” Katie flushed, caught out. There was no way she was asking that question.

“Why does this worry me slightly?” he asked, his beer raised halfway to his lips. And it did. Romanoff was a total wind up merchant.

Katie looked at him and shook her head, the flush continuing to rise up her neck “Yeah, I’m not…it’s not first date conversation.”

He cocked his head to one side “Now I’m extremely worried.”

“You really want to know?” she asked, cocking her head to one side.

He nodded. Well, he did. And didn’t…

"Alright, you asked for this…” she straightened up in the seat as he did the same, bracing himself. “Are you a virgin?”

Steve groaned and screwed his eyes shut as she bit her lip. She really shouldn’t have asked that, but now as she watched she was intrigued as to his answer.

“No, I’m not.” He sighed shaking his head before he looked back at her "After I first got the serum there was suddenly all this attention on me and I didn’t really know any better…” “There was no one before?” she frowned slightly, almost as if she was surprised.

He shook his head again “Girls weren’t exactly interested in me before hand, Bucky was the one who had the looks and the swag. He had a different girl every weekend. I guess when they finally did I just, I dunno…” He stopped and took a breath. This made him sound like a right jerk. “There weren’t that many” he added hastily.

3 to be exact. And none of them had been anything to write home about. He got the distinct impression they hadn’t particularly enjoyed themselves either, not past the fact they could boast about having bedded Captain America. After the 3rd he’d decided simply chasing a physical bliss that lasted mere moments wasn’t for him, plus he was infatuated by Peggy at that point. He craved the tenderness of the act that Bucky had so often boasted about. As corny as it sounded he genuinely wanted someone to be with him, intimately that wanted him, not Captain America. He noticed Katie was watching him intently and he hung his head slightly, peeking up at her.

“We all have a past Steve.” she said, shrugging easily.

“I haven’t been with anyone since I came out of the ice.” He said, softly, feeling the need to explain that he wasn’t that type of man.

“I haven’t since Grant.” she eyed him. “One night stands are overrated.”

“I wouldn’t know.” He shrugged, locking eyes with her. “That’s all I ever had.”

Katie studied him for a moment. She had no idea why, but to learn he hadn’t had a girl that way before he became some kind of war time celebrity, and that the ones he had been with were probably chasing nothing but the kudos of being able to say they fucked Captain American made her kind of sad. No wonder he was always so self-doubting.

She smiled and reached across the table, giving his hand a squeeze.

He chuckled and took a drink of his beer “You know I heard that a lot…you’re really sweet and all but…“

“Ok…” he said as their feet gently tangled together under the table. “So, in the spirit of this being a first date…there are a couple of things I don’t know about you…what’s your favourite film?” Katie paused “That’s a hard one. I like a lot of films but if there was one I couldn’t live without watching ever again it would be the Wizard of Oz.”

“No kidding.” he grinned.

“It’s a masterpiece” she nodded, “The music, the story, the colours…” “You read the book?” he asked.

She nodded “Several times. I used to have a copy but not sure where it went. Probably blown up in Malibu.”

“You know when that film came out it was mind blowing. Technicolour…never seen anything like it.” Steve said with a grin.

“I’ll bet…” she laughed “is it still your favourite?”

“How did you know that?” he asked.

“You told me, ages ago.” “Huh.” he said, “And yeah, even if it’s just for purely nostalgic reasons. Although I did like Gladiator when we watched that.” “Yeah that’s a great film too.” she smiled “one of my favourite quotes of all times comes from that film.” “Which is?” “Death smiles at us all, all a man can do is smile back.” she said as her ankle returned to brushing against his.

“Isn’t that a little bit morbid?” he asked, taking a drink of his beer.

“Only if you look at it that way.” she shrugged “to me it’s more of a reminder to live your life like there’s no tomorrow.”

“That’s a good way to look at it.”

The conversation took a natural turn to the renovation of the tower and then New York in general, how much Brooklyn in particular had changed since Steve had left it behind to go to war. It was through this conversation Steve discovered that in all the time Katie had spent in New York she had never been to Coney Island.

“Maybe I could take you one day, down to the fair.” Steve suggested.

“I’d love that.” she smiled and his chest swelled even more.

“I can just read the headlines now!” Katie said, in between laughs after he had added that if he wanted to he could probably throw a cat quite far… “Captain America killed my Cat.” Steve let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as he picked up his beer “Don’t cats always land on their feet?” “I dunno, depends how hard you’re intending on throwing it.” “I’m not intending on throwing any cat anywhere.” Steve said, shaking his head “As much as I don’t like them I couldn’t deliberately harm one.” “Tony did.” Katie said. “Well not deliberately, and he didn’t so much harm it as kill it…” “Oh you gotta tell me this story!” Steve grinned, leaning forward, topping up her wine glass from the bottle that was in the ice bucket in the middle of the table.

Steve nearly spat his beer back into his glass. “He ran them over?” “Yeah…” Katie said, and by now she was laughing “But the best bit is, she comes round asking Dad if he’s seen the cats, dad’s got no idea what’s gone on right as Tony’s moved the cats and bribed me to keep quiet with the biggest ice cream you could imagine, so dad is all like ‘I’ve got no idea Mrs Livesy I’ll be sure to keep my eyes open…” Katie took a deep breath, wiping at her eyes “So then Tony comes back, Dad mentions that Mrs Livesy was looking for 2 of her cats and Tony’s like ‘huh, well you know what they say, curiosity killed the cat’ and me, being the little shit I was at the age of 4 pipes up ‘no that was you this morning, remember?’”

Steve laughed, and watched as she carried on giggling “He never forgave me for that, Dad made him go round and apologise. And he had to attend a memorial for Mr Whiskers and Bagpuss…”

Eventually after desert and a few more drinks it was time to leave, Katie tried to split the meal bill with Steve but one stern look stopped that in its tracks. This was a date, he was paying. Thankfully she didn’t argue too much. Steve then asked her if she wanted to go for a drink, she gleefully accepted so he took her hand, gently leading her across the road, holding the bar door open for her. They both sat at the bar, Katie turning her seat so she was directly facing him, the pair of them leaning closer to one another as they talked. And the conversation just continued to flow, as did the odd but subtle display of affection, moving their chairs closer together, her hand on his shoulder, his falling to her knee. Steve was surprised to find how easy the whole thing was. He had no nerves, no awkward moments. The chemistry fizzled and there wasn’t a single moment he was stuck for anything to say. It was for that reason he was disappointed when the bar tender called time and reluctantly stood up as Katie drained the final bit of gin from her glass.

As Steve held out her jacket, his hands gently brushed her shoulders as she shrugged it on, sending a tingle down her spine and the hitch in her breathing didn’t go unnoticed. She turned to face him, all green eyes and pink lips, blinking as her eyes locked onto his. His hands connected at the base of her spine as she moved closer to him, not moving her gaze from his, hand resting on his chest.

“I’d really like to kiss you again…” he said, shyly.

“You know you don’t have to ask…” she replied. Smiling softly he leaned down and connected his lips with hers, the kiss growing slightly deeper until Steve remembered they were in the middle of a public bar. He pulled away gently, resting his forehead against hers briefly, blushing like an absolute moron a small smile tugging on the corners of his mouth.

“You know, for someone who said they’d never taken a woman on a date before Rogers, you’ve done amazingly well.” she said smiling at him.

“That’s because you make it easy to be around you.” He said, honestly. He took her hand, curled his fingers round hers and made their way out into the street to hail a cab.

All too soon they pulled up outside her apartment and both of them found themselves wishing the night would never end. Steve told the driver to wait whilst he hopped out and walked her into the lobby, their hands still twined together. There was a part of him that wanted to follow her in, and a part of her that almost invited him to, but they both wanted to do this right, take their time. Katie wanted Steve to understand that this was more to her than it had been to any of those other girls he had talked about, and Steve wanted Katie to understand that he had meant exactly what he said the other night because she meant the world to him.

“I think now is the part where I’m supposed to ask you if you had a good time…” Steve turned to face her as they stopped by the elevator door.

“I did…”

“And if you’d go out with me again?” “I already said I would, Coney Island remember?” she replied cheekily, leaning closer to him

“I meant before that.” he rolled his eyes.

“I’d love too.” she muttered, and then his lips were on hers again and they were kissing, exactly where they had left off in the bar, only this time they were alone. His hand snaked into her soft hair, angling her head as his tongue brushed her lips. She parted them slightly to grant him access and as their tongues tangled easily, Steve felt as if there were fireworks in his stomach, he had never kissed anyone like this before, no one. The kiss grew even deeper, Katie giving an involuntary moan.

“Always leave ‘em wanting more Stevie…” Bucky said, nudging him on the arm, winking as they crossed the fairground towards the girls “That’s the trick…”

Steve couldn’t stop himself from smiling he pulled back. Their night was at an end, it was a perfect place to leave it.

“I really did had a great time tonight, thank you.” she said, as he reached round and called the elevator for her as she pulled her key card out of her bag. He gently ran his finger down her cheek before he pressed a soft kiss there and smiled.

“Me too.” He waited until the elevator doors had shut and once they shut he turned round and grinning to himself he walked out into the night, whilst in the elevator Katie was wearing a smile equally as big.

Date 1 down, and it had been a roaring success.

Tags

@the-omni-princess

@momobaby227

#steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers x oc #steve rogers #captain america #tony stark #iron man #natasha romanoff #black widow #marvel #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #mcu #fanfic #new writer #romance

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skelezbian · 5 years

Note

I saw your thing on AO3 about requests and I was wondering if for any skeleton, any AU, if you could do a 'I came to a dance class because of my brother and now we have to awkwardly slow dance/tango/waltz together'. Thank you for your wonderful writing!

UGH this one is so good it’s haunted me since i saw it in my inbox. (i chose underswap papyrus btw)

ao3 link

Papyrus, if pressed, would’ve said that his second least favorite thing to do was move. His ideal day had him lazing about, sketching out some complex Rube Goldberg machine to move even less but with more complex hijinks involved. He certainly hadn’t been so low when he was younger, but growing up seemed to take the wind out of his sails, and the fact that his friend group extended to one person and his brother certainly hadn’t helped. He’d had big dreams- becoming a part of the Royal Guard and all of the romance that entailed. The suit of armor, the fancy outings, the prestige of it all, the hope for a future on the Surface… It had painted a very shiny and ideal future to a kid whose earliest memory was of his older brother panicking about finding them somewhere to live.

That future had dulled as he got older. Some dreams, he had supposed, were best left as dreams. He was slow and achy at only twenty years and those weren’t the kind of goals an achy skeleton got to have.

Unfortunately, Sans disagreed. He’d been the president of the Papyrus Fan Club the day that he’d become an older brother, and his optimism and hope for him never ceased to amaze Papyrus. He’d long since given up trying to get him to physically prepare for being a knight in the Royal Guard (giving Papyrus all of his sentry shifts so he wouldn’t have to move as much), but Papyrus had been naive to believe that his brother had forgotten about his childhood ramblings.

On the Surface, now, everything seemed limitless and possible, and Sans has fucking signed him up for a ballroom dancing class.

“i’m not going. you can’t make me.” Papyrus says, petulantly, childishly, sitting at their living room table. His fingers find a carved indention where he had tried to write his name in the wood when he was younger- ‘papiris’. “you remember what happened when you signed me up for a yoga class. what do you think is going to happen?”

“OH, DON’T GIVE ME THAT.” Sans turns around only briefly from where he’s scrambling eggs to roll his eyelights at him. “YOU DIDN’T DO THE WARM-UPS, IT’S NOT THE ENTIRE PRACTICE OF YOGA’S FAULT. BESIDES, BALLROOM DANCING IS THE LOWEST EFFORT DANCE LESSON I COULD FIND.” The spatula gently scrapes the bottom of the pan. “BESIDES. YOU USED TO LOVE THOSE CHEESY HUMAN ROMANCE SOAPS.”

“well, i’m about a decade and a half older than i was when i first watched ‘beauty and the beast’, so i don’t think that counts, sans.” He grumbles, slumping onto the table. Yoga had been a horrific incident- the humans were nice, the atmosphere was fine, but they’d done a simple move and his thigh bone had popped out of his pelvic cradle and the woman next to him had screamed and fainted. And then the instructor had called a human ambulance despite Papyrus’ protests, all while he tried to calm down enough to get his magic to reattach his leg. It was single handedly the most embarrassing moment of his life, even over the time Undyne invited her girlfriend over and had completely forgotten that he hadn’t left her house yet.

If he knows Sans, though, there’s no way around this because, “I ALREADY PAID FOR IT.” Then, to soften the blow, “IT’S ONLY ONE LESSON. WHAT’S THE WORST THAT COULD HAPPEN?”

“my leg could fall off again?”

“WELL, KEEP AN EYE ON THEM SO THEY DON’T RUN AWAY, THEN!” He starts building his plate- a slice of toast, several strips of turkey bacon, and his eggs (lightly salted). “I EVEN SPOKE WITH THE INSTRUCTOR ABOUT THIS- SHE SAID SHE’D PAIR YOU WITH SOMEONE EXPERIENCED SO YOU DON’T HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT THEM STEPPING ON YOUR TOES. JUST…” Sans hands him his plate, a small smile on his face, “JUST TRY TO HAVE FUN!”

Papyrus stuffs his face with eggs and tries to ignore how hard his brother is trying to make him happy.

Even though the idea of being over-dressed for this occasion was horrifying, Papyrus could only imagine how embarrassing it would be if he had ended up underdressed. When he was younger, he used to love fashion and his idea of what was ‘cool’ (usually, clothes that looked like they were covered in car decals), but he had been hard-pressed to find one dress shirt in his closet. Ultimately, he’d ended up borrowing one of Sans’ and tucking it into khakis he hadn’t worn in four years, which exposed his growth spurt and, incidentally, his thin tibias.

He walked into that auditorium room feeling like a class-a clown in the worst of ways. He couldn’t tell if it was a good or a bad thing that no one turned to look at him when he’d walked in, and the indecision had sweat beading on his skull. Was it too late to just bail? Could Sans afford for him to just leave and lose the money on this lesson? It was ballroom dancing, so it couldn’t have been cheap- what if he’d spent that extra money he was going to use for his vacation days on this? What if-

“Hi! Are you Papyrus?” He lurches, feeling someone’s hand touch his shoulder, disrupting his running thoughts. “Oh! Sorry to startle you!”

“oh, uh, um, uh.” He can’t physically return his eye sockets to how they were normally. He’s suddenly very glad that Sans had pressed his shirt for him, because you’re wearing a sleek black outfit that compliments you so well that he has to tell himself not to stare. “yes. papyrus. that’s me. and, um, you are…?”

“I’m your dancing partner for today.” You say with a smile, and introduce yourself. “You’re a bit behind with the lessons, so everyone’s a bit more advanced. Your brother, um, mentioned that you’d be a bit uncomfortable with having more attention on you than necessary, so we’re going to be practicing separately from the group to get you caught up. Is that alright?”

“yup. that’s alright, yeah.” Stars, why can’t he make his mouth say something, anything, cooler than that? The light sweat on his face still hasn’t faded.

You chuckle, just a little, and reach out your hand. It takes him a moment to realize you wanted him to hold your hand. For the dancing. Duh. He hesitates, fitting his hand into your’s slowly, a wobbly smile reaching his face when you flex your fingers on his. “Wow! You’re real solid.” Staring down at your joined hands, it takes Papyrus a moment to realize why his soul is racing in his rib cage- this is the first time in months that anyone other than Undyne or Sans has touched him. Stars, he’s a mess. Taking his pause for more hesitation, you try to amend, “We won’t be doing too much dancing today- it’s mostly about helping you find some rhythm and sync up with me. Just, um, let me know if anything makes you uncomfortable?”

You’re really nice and he feels super bad about this entire situation- he can only imagine how frail his brother must’ve made him sound. “don’t worry- i know you’re just doing your job. if anything’s sour, i’ll let you know.” He hadn’t noticed that you were tense until he’d finished speaking and saw your shoulders relax.

“Phew, okay. I mean, it’d get really hard to get you into rhythm if you’re not comfortable, so that’s our first obstacle.” You sway forward and, automatically, Papyrus leans forward to make sure you don’t fall. He then realizes it was on purpose, to test if he could take your weight. “Okay, Papyrus, talk to me. What kind of music do you like?”

“for this kind of stuff? i’d say blues.” You rest your other hand on his shoulder, and indicate for him to do the same. He feels your shoulders raise with a small laugh.

“That was a joke, right? ‘Rhythm and blues’? That’s cute.” You say it so genuinely that it pulls a chuckle from him. You begin to sway side-to-side- initially, the both of you are mismatched, but he falls into step easily soon, matching your pace.

“hey, i got a few more up my button-down’s sleeve. you ever heard the one about the old duck comedian?”

You got a silly smile on your face, as if you could guess the punchline. “Nope, never have. Is it going to… quack me up?” Your fingers slide more securely towards his neck, and he finds that holding you under your arm and around your shoulder blade is far more comfortable than locking his elbow straight to hold onto you.

“nah, but he’ll bill you for it later.” The punchline gets a small laugh from you, shaking your head. “hey, how long have you been dancing?” The two of you had fallen into an almost-natural sway, gently rocking to-and-from. You take one step to your right, and he immediately follows with you. Papyrus can suddenly see the importance of being familiar with your partner’s body language.

“Oh, not too long. About two years- I did a competition a little while back. Not much came of it.” He misreads you and steps forward, stepping on your foot. You simply take a step back, pulling your foot out. “The instructor’s a friend of mine- I help the newbies out. And don’t worry about my shoes- I always wear a scuffed pair for the first-timers.” You wink, and it sends his soul fluttering.

“that so? you know, i’ve never really looked, but i’m pretty sure i have two left feet, so i might wear a hole down on those shoes.”

“Now, that’d be a feat!” You look so proud of your little joke, your smile crinkling the edges of your eyes. He laughs and, for some reason, that little joke makes the rest of the evening go so much faster. It’s mostly swaying to the beat and chatting idly, you moving him and him being moved until he finally gets it and he can almost predict your next steps. You shoot him a wicked grin, “So, did you notice?”

“notice what?” To make sure, he looks down at his feet to make sure they aren’t scuffing your shoes again. You giggle at that, so he tries to crack a joke, “now, are you saying that my two left feet are making a right?”

You snort. “Actually! I just taught you the box step, so I’d consider that a right! Here, watch your feet.” You pulled him back, stepped to your left, then forward, then back into resting position. It wasn’t anything impressive, but Papyrus was somewhat amazed that he hadn’t noticed the both of you moving in a perfect square. “So? Not as bad as you were expecting, huh?”

“no, not bad at all…” He responds, almost surprised himself. Forward, right, back, return. All with your hand resting on the slope of his shoulder, all with you smiling up at him. “huh.”

“Yeah, ‘huh’.” You laugh and wink at him again, as if all of this was some elaborate plan on your part, to lull him into a sense of security and trick him into dancing. “So, you want to refine it a bit?”

“yeah, i think that’d make us square.”

When Sans comes to pick him up, he can’t conceal the smile on his face. You wave to him from amongst teenagers reuniting with their parents, partners sharing water bottles and dabbing sweat from their foreheads, and your grin is so wide it forces your eyes shut. Papyrus watches you from the passenger seat of Sans’ economic Nissan, fingers drumming on his pressed pants’ leg. “SO. HOW WAS IT? DID YOU… SHAKE A LEG?”

The joke startles a laugh out of him, “you know what? i shook two of them, and they stayed attached this time.” Sans lets out a mock gasp of surprise. “it was a lot of fun, sans. honestly, i didn’t think i’d enjoy it, but… well, i guess part of it is the partner.”

As hard as he tries to ignore it, Sans is giving him an ‘I TOLD YOU SO’ grin in his peripheral. “WELL, I GUESS THAT OLD DANCING SKELETON JOKE ISN’T TRUE ANY MORE.” He turns to wink at his younger brother, “I’M GLAD YOU HAVE SOME BODY TO DANCE WITH.”

#papyrus x reader #undertale imagines #reader insert #undertale #underswap #my writing #Anonymous

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hyu-ck · 6 years

Text

*in which your soulmate’s name is printed on your body from the day of your birth, but you didn’t expect it to be so painful.

another soulmate au that one person asked for

Characters: Mark, Haechan, Reader

Pairing: Haechan/Reader

Genre: Fluff // Soulmate!AU

Word Count: 6.7K

Cold wind forced itself against your face, pushing heavily into the back of your eyes as you sat against the concrete steps of your school. You had left your coat in the now locked-building behind you, and were left with nothing but a light weight jacket and your frown. The fall air slipped underneath the neck of your sweater, crawling towards your chest and hands, which you had grasped tightly between your legs in hopes to conserve some sort of warmth. You could see the faint lettering just above the washed denim of your jeans, which only allowed any curious eyes to make out the first few letters.

It didn’t matter though. You knew what it said underneath your cold weather garb. It was written plainly enough in an untidy scrawl against the veins of your inner wrist. The color was a faded gray, like a misprinted newspaper. It was only nine letters.

Donghyuck.

It was only a topic of interest to you when you were alone. When you were trying to will the minutes to pass faster than the sluggish pace they always seemed comfortable to do. That’s when you thought about it.

Your Soulmate. An obsession of most teenage girls your age, along with the possibility of driving and makeup, which was drugged up at every opportune moment. Everyone was always panicked about how he looked, or how smart he was, or anything else about them that you were too busy to listen to. You didn’t really care, though. You were just afraid.

Because what if he was a serial killer? Or maybe some drugged-out boy with emotional baggage you couldn’t carry (you had failed weight-lifting, after all). How were you suppose to explain to your mother that your soulmate was mentally unstable and completely unlikable? It’s not as if you could bring someone like that home.

So you, in your ever-demanding void of anxiety, avoided the soulmate questions that were proposed irrationally by your friends, instead opting to discuss history or art or anything else mundane enough to distract you. You didn’t want to think about your soulmate, but he was always there, right on your heartbeat. You could always feel the faint warmth radiating from the lines of his own handwriting, pulsing into your skin like a clock.

It was violently present in the wind, because while the rest of your hands turned blue and shook, it was just so warm right there. You stared at it briefly, deciphering the handwriting furtively, trying to get a read on a boy you’d never met just based on the swirl of his c’s. You felt ridiculous.

You had friends that had already met their soulmates, and they never seemed anything short of amazing- everything far from ridiculous. They were happy, and sickly in love to the point your shoulders tensed as you watched them speak quietly in the hallways to each other, because you couldn’t stop being scared. Your soulmate could hate your voice. They could hate your looks, hate the way you walked. You were so scared.

Your friends would laugh if you brought up your fears with them, though. They would roll their eyes and patronize you, giving empty advice that “they could never hate you, they’re your soulmate” or “that everything you’re scared of is irrational, your soulmate won’t be a psycho-maniac with a doll obsession”. That didn’t stop your imagination from flying off the rails anytime you allotted yourself time to think about him though.

The watch on your other wrist faced the road stoically, ticking on with determination as you waited for your mother. She was a busy woman, always on the run and looking for new opportunities- her other two jobs weren’t paying the bills and she needed to do something else to feed you in the morning, so you didn’t hold it against her. You only missed her a little bit when the house was empty.

She had had an interview that afternoon for a local café, someplace she was actually excited to work at, saying that you would love it, that the atmosphere was just your style. You encouraged her enthusiasm blankly, trying to muster up excitement to match her own. You could also tell she didn’t think you were happy with it, but she ignored the lack of light in your eyes when she dropped you off at school that morning and promised to be there around four. It was almost five.

Finally, as you sighed and stood from the steps out of fear you were going to become fossilized in ice before she got there, the silver sedan rolled towards the curb jerkily, a small popping noise coming from under the hood as your mother stopped.

“Y/N! Hurry up, dear, we’ve got to hit the store before we get home!” She called through the window, her hand rushing to re-crank up the glass as the atmosphere seeped inside the car.

You nodded quickly, your heart swelling at the thought of warm air inside of the car as you blindly grabbed your bag and fell inside, onto the worn, cloth passenger seat.

Your mother pressed onto the gas, pulling away from the worn brick building of your education as you threw your bag on the backseat, pushing your hands towards the heater feverishly. Your mother laughed at your melodramatic acting, your face alight with relief as if someone had told you that you were going to survive a terminal illness.

“You wouldn’t be so cold if you were wearing a jacket, you know,” your mother said, shaking her head at your state of underdress. You only shrugged, turning into the heat more.

“I am wearing a jacket, though,” you said, showing off the thin material covering your shoulders, “I’m just sans coat.”

“Don’t get smart with me.”

“Wouldn’t that defeat the purpose of parenting?” you asked, reveling in the obvious sarcasm, “I mean, don’t you want an intelligent child?”

She sighed. “Who taught you to speak like this?” she joked back.

“Only the best,” you said, “It was you, my mother-dearest.”

“The snark was all your father.”

“Takes two to tango,” you laughed, winking at your annoyed parent with a gusto you were afraid you’d lost ten minutes earlier in the 40 degree weather.

She relented, a sarcastic “whatever” muttered under her breath as she continued down the road towards a grocers. You sighed contently, your body temperature returning to normal, allowing you to block out the sensory madness that was your soulmate’s name, the heat of it now dulled against the rest of your warm skin.

You had woken up the next morning to a feeling of pain, and your morning grogginess was not allowing you to pin point to source of your suffering as you quickly sat up in bed. It felt like someone was pressing matches into the very fiber of your being, begging for attention and getting it. You were yanked from your stupor in a mere second, though, when the dull burn turned into a sizzling beast that sunk its hell-fire teeth into the skin of your wrist. You cried out, your other handing flying like a ghost to the underside of your wrist, pressing harshly into the darkening color of your soulmate’s name. Tears welled in your eyes as you convulsed, your stomach dropping and teeth grinding as you tried to ride out the pain, the skin searing just underneath the pressure of your left palm.

Within seconds (even if it felt like hours) the burning subsided and you were left with the smell of smolder and the steel gray letters. You stared blankly, trying to find an outlet of reasoning inside your pain-overridden brain, trying to conjure up some memory or facts to why your soulmate’s name was burning like the god-damn entrance to Dante’s personal inferno.

After the feeling in your fingers returned you remembered. The burning starts when you start getting closer to meeting your soulmate, the name grows darker when they are only weeks away. You fell back to sleep after that.

The café your mother had gotten her job at was only a few blocks away from your school, so the day you were free to walk over you had immediately taken the chance. You were walking there slowly, taking your time in the sun and letting it wash over your face as your sneaker-clad feet hit the sidewalk in a steady pace. You pushed the sleeve of your wool coat upwards as you drew closer to the café, pulling up layers of sweater and long sleeve to see the stark white bandage that stood out against your wrist.

Your mother had rushed to grab a first aid kit the minute she saw you the morning before, pulling your fingers towards her as she stared fearfully at your wrist. The once steel gray word was now accompanied by a blistering red rash, looking like an infected tattoo more than a biological phenomenon. She had wrapped it gently, prodding for questions you barely know the answers to, telling you to be more careful even if you couldn’t stop your body from self-inflicting volcanic pains and burns onto itself just because your fucking soulmate was closer to you.

You had opted not to say that to your mother.

In the process of peeling back the three-layered gauze to see the current damage level you had arrived directly in front of your mother’s new workplace. The door in front of you was a tinted glass, with white letters printed directly in the middle of it, reading: Society Café. You couldn’t see the inside of the building, too distracted by the faded pink of your arm to see the boy rushing towards the door.

He pushed it open suddenly, the well-oiled hinge swinging with ease. Which was swinging with ease straight into your downturned head, knocking you off your feet and onto the gray pavement below, your hands barely catching yourself from a two-fold head injury. You squeezed your eyes closed tightly, trying to will the pain away with your bludgeoned mind as your gravel-imprinted hand came up to rub at it gingerly. Your hand pulled through your hair as it returned to your side, your eyes casting upwards to meet your attacker.

A shell-shocked boy stood panicked before you, one hand still miming the motion of pushing open the door, the other covering his agape mouth. He seemed to rush to his senses when you made eye-contact with him, his voice stuttering as he dropped to the knees of his jeans and reached towards you. His black hair glared off the light, the short-shorn sides pulling attention to his jaw and shoulders, which were covered in a hoodie and denim jacket. You shrugged his hands off, trying to come to your feet slowly, readjust your black sweater, and pull to collar of your shirt un-crooked simultaneously.

“Oh-Oh my God, I’m so sorry, I was just-I was rushing because my friend was lost, and I didn’t even bother to look up, and I was just, wow I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Oh my God, do you need to go to the hospital? You could have a concussion. Oh, my God,” his stuttered voice came out, his hand wrapping around your elbow and helping you stand.

You shook your head, regretting the movement immediately as the blood rush faded into dizziness, your hand flying towards the knot forming on the top of your head. He winced, his hand scratching the back of his neck as he watched your pain.

“Really, I’m so, so sorry. I just-I got caught up in walking, and-“

You cut his repeated speech off with a flick of your hand, leaving it raised in front of his face as you still tried to rub some feeling of comfort back to your head. He stood awkwardly as you regained your senses, watching carefully for any signs of danger or pain.

“It’s okay,” were the first words you could force out, watching the relief wash over his face in waves.

“Oh, thank God,” he said, relaxing his shoulders and standing against the door.

You frowned at him. “You might not want to stand there, unless you want to have matching bruises.” You pointed towards the unforgiving door that had smacked you moments before.

He seemed to realize where he was, jumping clumsily to the side and away from the hunk of glass, glaring at it suspiciously. You winced at the noise of his feet slapping the pavement, the sensitivity of your injuring making itself known again.

“Man, I really feel terrible,” he said, “I just had to get to my friend- and I’ve said this a hundred times already…”

He trailed off, looking at the amused expression you were sporting with a guilty one to match. His bright eyes flickered suddenly, his fingers snapping as he began to spin away from his victim, you.

“The friend?” you asked, laughter covering up the throbbing of your skull.

“Well, yeah,” he called, “I really do- I mean, I actually have to go save Haechan from himself.”

You nodded in understanding, slowly as to not hurt yourself again, waving towards the bumbling stranger as he raced down the sidewalk in the direction you had come from. You turned away, mumbling about to necessities of ice and entering the Society Café.

A wave of heat hit as you entered the open-floorplan, the faint whirl of the heating system greeting you in tandem with the soft bell that had triggered once you opened the door. The domineering scent of roasted coffee beans wafted into your nose as you wandered farther inside, your eyes adjusting to the strategically dimmed lighting. Simple tables were scattered about the room, a couple of bar stools pushed against the far end of the countertop that separated the rest of the world from the baristas. The tables were a cream finish, with wooden chairs tucked beside them and flowers situated in the center of the surfaces. The walls were all painted a dark color, either showing off a piece of local artwork or brandishing soft-lit, yellow lamp hardware. The entire west wall was windowed, as the café sat on the corner of the street- allowing light to filter in pleasantly.

You relaxed into the atmosphere, walking towards a table that was pushed against the windowed wall, kicking your bag under the table as you turned to get something from the café. Your mother was standing behind the bar, smiling softly at you as you wandered towards her, a five dollar bill clutched into your hand.

“I’m glad you found it alright,” she said, pulling the five dollars out of your hand and trading it for a warm, emerald-toned mug filled with the scent of caffeine and chai. She was never one to assume, but your mother knew your tastes.

“Not without error,” you joked, leaning over the marble top as your mother counted your change.

“What happened?”

“I was attacked by something- actually,” you peered over your shoulder, looking conspiratorially towards the front door, “I think it’s watching us right now.”

Your mother startled, glancing back and forth between the door and you.

“What?” she harshly whispered, “Who did it, tell me! We need to do something.”

“It’s right there Mom,” you pointed at the door in false terror, making your hand shake weakly, “The door.”

“Who’s at the door?” she asked, not catching the lie in your voice. You hid a smile.

“No, Mom,” you gasped as it opened, “It’s the actual door.”

She took a moment to catch your shit-eating grin, but once she did it took her no time to swat at you with the hand towel on her hip. You dissolved into giggles, but stopped short as the movement jarred your head again, a sharp intake of breath breaking at your lips.

Her annoyance changed back into worry again, her hand coming up towards your head. “So, you actually got hit by the door?”

“Yeah, some guy came speeding out and I caught the bad end of his rush,” you said, pointing towards your crown with a wince.

“Here,” your mom took your hand and led you to the enterance side of the countertop, “We’ll find you some ice and you can go sit down, alright?”

“Sounds better than writhing in pain.”

“Agreed.”

By the time the ice had melted into a bag of sweating water a bruise had fully formed on your head and the pain had completely left, only the new memory of a flustered boy barging through a door on a mission for a lost friend remained. You’d laugh about it when it wasn’t so fresh.

You had finished two chai mochas by then, and were contemplating the walk home when your mother came over, her apron discarded and her purse on her shoulder.

“First shift done, kid, we can head out,” she said, answering your ponderings finally and pulling you upwards.

“Great, I can finally stop avoiding my homework,” you said faux-happily as your mother laughed. She shook her head as you walked through the chiming door, back into the cold, the wind loosening the bandage that was once wrapped tightly on your wrist.

Off towards your left, coming your way through the evening was the boy from earlier, now pulling along someone- who you assumed was the previously lost friend. You couldn’t make much out about him from view you were allowed over your shoulder, only light brown hair and tan skin accompanying a well-built stature of confidence.

Your previous attacker rose a hand in greeting, pulling you away from the boy to his left and forcing you to raise your hand half-heartedly. His friend was drawn to you then, moving his attention to the exchange of your attacker and you, his eyes drifting over your receding frame with interest. You looked away as your mother said something, pulling your coat tighter around your frame and walking away.

The boys went into the café.

You experienced the worst pain of your life two blocks later with the feeling of 500 degree, hot metal pain liquidizing your wrist. The name burned brighter, now a deep midnight black.

Through the clouded haze of agony you wondered who it could be.

It was a week after the burns, and you had made it through the slow days without another incident. Your wrist was free of cloth this time, the red scars fading and leaving you with only a dark, bolded Donghyuck.

You tugged gently on your forest-green sleeve to hide the letters better, not in the mood for questions and inquiries about your soulmate as you wandered into the art room. It was located in the basement of your school, but it didn’t feel that way. The high windows vented in light, only to be cut off by the walls of the ground floor and fade into shelves lined with student sculptures and paintings. It was where you were most comfortable, because it was quiet and boring, and nobody talked about the loves of their lives when they held a brush or pencil.

It wasn’t that you didn’t believe in soulmates, or even that you didn’t want to meet yours. You were just exhausted from the pain and the heat of your hand to the point that you wanted to focus on anything and everything else that you possibly could, and that’s why you had come to the art room.

You set yourself up with an ink well and pen, trying to move the convoluted panic of your mind onto the page in some semblance of art. It came to be that you were blank of patterns or ideas, and the page reflected that, only the flicks of paled ink reflecting towards you- mocking you. The color reminded you of the first burn.

It didn’t take very long for you to give up, leaving the ink well out as you stood up, having no energy to clean and no care as to who would. You remembered your mother had a shift that day till five, and your taste buds were already panting at the thought of smooth, warm coffee. You left the room with a bounce to your step, crossing through the remaining mills of students and out into the November air.

You yanked your coat on as you stumbled towards the building, trying to zip up your backpack and walk at the same time. You were never a graceful multitasker. The trip was short lived, and Society Café was directly in your line of sight- along with the boy from earlier.

He seemed to notice you, and he paled slightly, seemingly afraid of the girl he had backhanded with a door only a week prior. You were unfazed by his reaction, however, and continued towards him with a friendly smile. You waved, and he waved back, opening the door for you (this time without pain involved) as you both made your way inside the muted café.

“How’s your head?” he asked, walking up to the short line of customers with you on his heels.

“I’ll live, but not without the mental scarring you brought with it,” you joked.

“Yeah, well, I said I was sorry.”

Mirth glinted in your eyes, causing the color to stand out promptly. “You should be sorry, I mean I may have to go to therapy for the trauma you inflicted on me; I can’t look at doors the same way anymore.” He didn’t seem to catch the tone of your voice quite right, his eyes filling with worry as he flited.

“Oh- aish, I can’t believe it hurts so much, Gosh, I feel like such a jerk,” he muttered, toeing the dark wood floor with the broken edge of his sneaker.

You busted out a quick spill of laughter, causing the boy to jolt in shock, confusion being chased away with realization as he watched you.

“I’m only joking- uh?”

“Mark.”

You nodded. “I’m only joking, Mark, I really am just fine- the only thing hurt is my pride.”

“That’s a relief.”

“Yeah, you’re getting away without paying medical bills this time, but watch out, if it happens again… I’ve got a great lawyer.”

“Hilarious.”

“Not a joke this time,” you deadpanned.

He shook his head, moving up in the line towards a younger barista- her name tag read Julia, printed is a cursive swirl with what looked faintly like a violet marker. She smiled carefully at Mark, tucking away flies of blonde hair that had escaped her braid.

You could see the darkening blush of Mark’s face from where you stood, and you bet that you could’ve seen it if you were even outside still.

“Um, can I get a h-hot chocolate?” he nearly whispered, his head turned towards the counter top with interest as his hand scratched the back of his head.

You rolled your eyes at his awkwardness, almost tempted to jump in and help.

“Oh…” she trailed off, disappointment clear on her soft features as Mark avoided looking at her, “Of course, is that for here or to go?”

“Here,” he chirped out, too loud and panicked for a regular conversation.

“That’ll be $3.46,” she said.

“Thank you.”

Mark walked away quickly, muttering something under his breath that sounded distinctly like ‘stupid’ and ‘coward’. You shook your head at his retreating form, only to have a momentary pique of interest. You narrowed your gaze towards his hands, noting the pushed up sleeves and tapping of his pointer finger against his right wrist. You could barely make it out form the distance and angle, but it was only a little of deductive reasoning to guess that it said the same word on Mark’s arm that it said on Julia’s nametag.

“What can I get you?” she asked, her eyes casted away and towards Mark, her mind far away from you.

“I’ll take a vanilla mocha,” you said, perusing your options of attack as she typed a few keys on the register.

You grinned. “Also, Mark will take your number.”

She stopped everything she was doing, suddenly gripping her wrist through the crisp button down she wore, her face screwing in pain. You stopped short, your sly grin fleeing your face as you reached out in panic, watching the calm girl drop to her knees and cry out. Abruptly, a noise convulsed from Mark’s side of the room, his own cry of agony matching his soulmate’s as they frantically dropped to the floor, snatching at their wrists like mirrored subjects.

Mark seemed to catch a hint of reason through his mystified experience, starting to crawl towards where you stood and Julia writhed. He stood unsteadily, and you caught his arm, trying to help him regain his balance. It was a swap of roles from your last meeting with him. He barely looked at you as he moved over the counter, sliding his feet across and landing beside Julia, his hands clutching onto hers as both of them succumbed to relief. The pain was gone.

They stared at each other, panting out the remnants of adrenaline as you peered over the coffee makers, confusion as clear as day spilling out of you.

“Okay, since no one else is going to say it, I will,” you started, “What the actual fuck?”

Nobody responded at first, the daze slowly deserting their gazes as they both turned back to you.

“Uh? Soulmates?” Mark squeaked out, his voice catching embarrassingly. Julia laughed nervously.

“I feel like I just witnessed an exorcism,” you said.

“I-I didn’t know your name… all this time…” Julia said, staring bewilderedly at Mark.

“I knew, I just, I didn’t know how to tell you,” Mark whispered, squeezing her hand gently with an apologetic expression.

“You idiot,” Julia said fondly.

You nodded slightly. “Agreed. Also- I think you both owe me, I basically just set you two up.”

They both laughed at your serious expression, and you shifted uncomfortably, not sure if you were supposed to stick around for your coffee or not. As an answer to the beat of silence your mother appeared, disarray hanging off her, her mouth open and breathing heavily, her hands gripping her apron.

“What’s wrong? What’s going on? I heard screaming!” she said, walking quickly towards Mark and Julia, who were still situated on the floor of the coffee shop.

“The whole ‘soulmate thing’ happened,” you offered, leaning casually against the counter.

“Oh? Oh!” your mom called, taking full stock of the two people on the floor and the startled gazes of the few people left in the shop.

“Maybe now is a good time for you to take your break, Julia,” your mom offered, pointing towards a vacant table with a placating smile. Julia nodded, standing and brushing off her knees as she pulled Mark with her, his face delighted as he mouthed ‘thank you’ towards you.

He stopped suddenly, pulling Julia backwards with his seize of motion.

“Wait… I still don’t know you name,” he said to you.

“Y/N.”

His face changed for a quick second, then reverted back to the happy-go-lucky expression you were almost certain he wore constantly, and then a timid grin worked its way on his lips.

“I’ll return the favor somehow, Y/N, maybe next time I’ll pay for your coffee,” he said, and you nodded happily, watching the pair sit and start talking animatedly- they looked content.

So why was your gut still dreading meeting your soulmate?

The next couple of days were much less dramatic than Mark’s soulmate meeting, leaving you bored and bedraggled, the worry of your impending soulmate meeting keeping you up late at night. You were scared of the pain, and every other thing that anxiety thrummed into existence, causing you to bathe in existential dread every minute you were left without activity.

You were sitting by yourself in Society Café, alone and silent, reading some book by Kurt Vonnegut for the 10th time as you sipped on a caramel macchiato. Your mother didn’t work that day, and neither did Julia, so you weren’t expecting to see Mark there that day, damp form the rain and carrying an over-weighed bag of school books.

He waved at you, walking over as he shook his black hair like a spoiled dog, plopping down in front of you forlornly.

“Didn’t expect to see you here today,” you said, lifting a brow.

‘Why not?”

“Well,” you shrugged, “I assumed you only came here daily to see Julia.”

Mark shook his head as he pulled out a humming laptop and lifting the screen.

“Nah, I actually just like the atmosphere, I get unusually productive here,” he commented and you agreed, waving your book at him in example.

You lapsed into a quiet study, both of you returning to your own activities like old friends. You were about to switch to studying chemistry when Mark’s phone chirped happily, distracting you both. He picked it up and grinned, typing back a quick response before placing it face down and going back to typing.

“Julia?” you asked, a teasing lilt masking your curious tone.

“Nope,” he grinned again, “My friend got done with practice early, he said he’d meet me here.”

“Ah… is it the same friend that couldn’t find his way around a ten-block town?”

“The very same.”

“Hope he can find it alright,” you offered.

“He better, because I won’t be dragging his butt here again.”

You laughed, remembering the boy from earlier, with his light demeanor and mischievous grin. You wondered if he was smart, or nice, or even a serial killer in disguise. You shook your head lazily, trying to refocus on stiochemistry and the impending headache you knew you would have.

It wasn’t even ten minutes later when the bell chimed, the door opening and the squeak of wet sneakers on a clean floor announcing the arrival of someone. Mark popped up like prairie dog, his hair flopping as his smile spread farther across his face. You looked up slowly, finishing the trail of your sentence as your eyes focused on a boy, around the same age as you and Mark, waling forward.

“Haechan!” Mark called out in the silent café, earning an annoyed shush from an elderly couple a few tables away, his face dropping to apologize before flickering back to ’10 year old boy being offered unlimited presents’ mode.

“Mark Lee!” he greeted back, his tan face splitting into a charming grin. He ignored the hushes from the couple, instead choosing to walk right up to the side of your table.

His voice was the first thing you noticed. It was soft, unique even, with the tell-all catch of trouble ringing off the ends of his words. It matched everything about him, from the relaxed set of his shoulders to his glimmering eyes, the heavy brown color melting into his features with ease. He was dressed simply, with a black tee-shirt and well-fitting sweatpants of matching color, his hair hidden under a white cap that shadowed some of his features. You found a miniscule amount of disappointment to that fact, but you ignored it, instead observing the smattering of misplaced moles across his face and neck- eyes catching on the one sitting over his adam’s apple, but quickly flying away, a light dust of pink falling on your cheeks. He seemed to notice and he grinned, pulling on the jacket he had previously had draped across his arm, but you were too distracted by your embarrassment and desperate self-convincing to stop blushingto notice his arms.

“She doesn’t fit your description of Julia,” he said, nodding his head in your direction, “and it shouldn’t be hard to tell, considering how in-depth that description was.”

“Shut up.”

“Don’t blame me for your obsessively observant tendencies, Mark, blame genetics,” he said, shoving harmlessly at Mark’s shoulder. Mark just glared back, flicking at Haechan’s wrist.

You decided to chime in on the conversation, feeling that your face had returned to a normal temperature, and now having control over your own reactions. “That’s probably because I’m not Julia.”

“I figured,” Haechan said.

“What gave it away?” you asked jokingly.

“Absence of the nametag. Also, you aren’t staring at Mark like he’s the only thing in the whole world, which was a dead giveaway.”

You nodded, closing your notebook slowly as your interest was replaced from chemistry to Haechan, even though drawing your attention away from school wasn’t a difficult task.

“Oh!” Haechan smirked, flicking his eyes playfully at Mark, “Not to mention that anyone that pretty could never be Mark’s soulmate.”

“I don’t know if I should be flattered or offended on Mark’s behalf,” you remarked, not missing a beat as you successfully willed the heat of your cheeks away.

“Offended-““Flattered,” Haechan and Mark said at the same time, one with a smile the other with a glare.

“Let me correct myself,” you said, “I’m flattered, but also offended on Julia’s behalf- because apparently Mark’s description wasn’t in detail enough.”

“Thank you,” Mark sniped, shooting daggers at the boy beside him.

“I’m not sure if ‘thank you’ is the correct response, Mark,” Haechan laughed, “because she insulted you and complimented your significant other in the same sentence.”

“Don’t pin it all on Mark,” you said, “Maybe you’re just a poor listener.”

“Touché,” Haechan acknowledged, snapping his fingers.

“I think Y/N’s on to something,” Mark said, full of knowing.

Haechan, only seconds before radiant and full of mirth, paled at Mark’s sentence, a cough spilling from his chest at the sound of your name. You scrunched your brows together, a worried hand falling on his forearm as you leaned forward.

“You okay?” you inquired.

Haechan stumbled to find a response, clearing his throat as he stared at your small hand on his arm. You pulled back like you had stuck your hand in a fire, abashed that you had touched him. You just met the guy, why were you suddenly doting about like a concerned mother?

“Y-yeah, fine,” he said, but it came out uncertain, like a question rather than a statement.

“Fine,” he reiterated again, this time with his voice like stone.

He stood up straighter and you could faintly hear the sound of Mark’s amused giggles, which prompted Haechan to slap Mark’s arm. Mark reeled back, rubbing the stinging place with a scolded aura, looking down uncomfortably. You matched his expression, not sure what was happening or why.

“Don’t joke about that, Mark,” Haechan nearly growled.

“Joke about what?” you stressed, “My name?”

“Yeah, Haechan? Her name?” Mark echoed, a large smirk playing up his features.

“Wait…” Haechan turned back to you slowly, his brown eyes filled with perplexity and something else that almost looked like longing.

“Your name really is Y/N?” he asked.

“Uh, last time I checked my birth certificate it was, so unless you know something I don’t,” you said, “my name is Y/N.”

“Mark,” Haechan struggled out, turning wide eyes to his friend.

“I know, man,” he responded, a gentle smile on his face.

“You guys want to let me in on whatever the fucks got you two mesmerized like a couple of school girls?” you demanded, a pit dividing your stomach as you swallowed the moisture of your mouth away.

“I’m going to have to thank Coach for letting us out early tomorrow, aren’t I?” Haechan asked Mark, who nodded happily.

“I think a fruit basket would do well,” Mark offered.

“He does like apples a lot, doesn’t he?” Haechan responded, prompting another up and down of Mark’s seemingly ever-bobbing head. Your frustration was starting to pile.

“If someone doesn’t enlighten me right now, you’re going to find that fruit basket stuck somewhere else,” you bit out, watching Haechan melt to your words.

“I can feel true love already,” he laughed and you frowned heavily, still not having your demand answered.

“Dude,” you growled.

“Okay, fine,” Haechan held his hands up in surrender, flashing you the underside of his wrist as his jacket slipped backwards.

Everything clicked.

Then everything hurt like fucking hell.

You cried out as your wrist sprung to attention, falling to Haechan’s feet with an animalistic sound ripping out of your chest, your hands pushing into the ground harshly as it burned. Oh, God, it burned. Like a witch set ablaze you fell into the pain easily, the monster clawing at your stomach as you became nauseous with heat. Unforgiving heat licking at your wrist with all the teeth it could bare, and you don’t think you ever wanted a soulmate if this is what it meant, because, oh my god, you couldn’t feel anything but pain. Hot, fresh pain that melted your bones like a liquid curse.

You were so distracted by the pain that you didn’t see Haechan drop in front of you, his enchanting voice becoming a sin as he cried out with you, clutching his smoking wrist as the heat wave traded between your two bodies. His brown eyes swelled with tears as he bit his lip harshly, drawing fresh red against the plump pinkness you had found yourself thinking about earlier.

Mark stood up fast, his chair knocking off of its legs behind him as he dropped beside you two, trying to guide you together through the haze of violence.

Voices, jumbled and disjointed, flowed into your ears like a poltergeist from behind you.

“Not again.”

“Didn’t this just happen here?”

“Can’t I have one coffee in peace without having to witness a soulmate meeting?”

Soulmate. You found yourself through the mist again, realizing that yes- this was your soulmate. Haechan- no, Donghyuck- was right in front of you with his glowing skin and levity filled eyes. He was right in front of you.

You reached out with your hand like a whip, latching onto his arm as your body fell forward, and your other hand coming to balance on his thigh as his arm caught itself around your waist. The pain stopped. It all stopped around you and all that was there were the glistening eyes of your soulmate as he stared with warmth back at you.

“Yeah,” you heard Mark say, “I forgot to mention the pain before, didn’t I?”

Haechan snapped away from your eyes for a moment, settling his most withering glare on Mark. His hand tightened on your hip.

“You think?” Donghyuck barked, and you squeezed his leg gently, trying to draw his anger away.

He looked back at you, replacing his snarl with a smile as he tempered to your gaze, and you were mesmerized before you remembered something.

“You idiots were sitting around chatting about fruit when you knew I was right there?” you accused, slapping Donghyuck’s leg before pulling away and crossing your arms.

“Sorry?” they mimicked each other, both shrugging and offering an insincere smile.

“And I’m going to have to put up with this shit the rest of my life, aren’t I?” you said.

“Fair trade, babe, you get me,” Donghyuck grinned, baring his teeth in pride as you simmered in your annoyance. He grabbed your hand gently, turning over your wrist as his larger hand played with your smaller fingers, looking entranced by his name on your wrist- the color the darkest thing you’ve seen.

You thawed, still having a biting response on your tongue but choosing to ignore it briefly, instead running your thumb against your name on his wrist with a simple joy.

You looked at him, leaning closely towards his body heat as you felt the comfortable presence he carried envelope you.

“I guess I can deal with it,” you muttered, shooting one last annoyed look at Mark.

“Hey!” Mark protested, “Don’t give me that look, this was my way of paying you back.”

“Whatever.”

Mark laughed, standing and gathering his things, seeing he wasn’t going to get much else from the two of you that day other than endless teasing and heavy looks. He left with a wave and a grin, leaving you and Donghyuck to occupy the table again.

You raised your brow in question. “So- Haechan?” you asked.

“It’s a nickname from when we were younger; Mark used to not be able to pronounce Donghyuck.”

“Damn, would’ve saved me a lot of grief if Mark had had his shit together,” you joked, toying with a ring on his finger.

“I say that at least six times a day.”

You hummed in response, content with sitting there and admiring the boy you had been so terrified to meet. You felt like a fool looking back on it. Then-

“You’re not a serial killer, are you?”

FIN.

#haechan #donghyuck #haechan fluff #haechan scenarios #haechan imagines #haechan fic #sol-peaches #writing #nct #nct u #nct dream #nct scenarios #nct fic #nct imagines #nct 127

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odderancyart · 6 years

Text

A Gift of Silver

Tango Prompt

They moved slowly over the dancefloor, smiling blithely. The orchestra played in the background, a slow ballad. Lust’s soul beat slowly in his ribcage. He was happy. The long dress he was wearing swept around his legs as he twirled under his beloved’s outstretched arm. Dance’s eyelights were soft as they looked at each other. This was such a wonderful thing. The fact that he got to feel something like this. True love, and being loved back just as much. It wasn’t something many of Lust’s kind ever got to experience.

The warmth in his bones was a completely different kind than the one usually there and he adored it. As Dance whispered sweet nothings into his ear when they leaned toward each other in tact with the music, Lust turned his head up and pressed a chaste kiss to the other’s cheek.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, mildly. His lover smiled back at him as the orchestra played the last tones. Both took a step backwards, and Dance held his hand gently as he bowed and Lust curtsied.

“you’re welcome,” he simply replied. It had been months since he stopped trying to tell Lust he didn’t need to be grateful. While Dance led him off the dancefloor, Lust smiled brighter.

After the ball, they made their way up to their rooms. Neither Lust nor Dance truly belonged in the royal castle, but who was going to deny an Angel of Physical Love anything? Even if he only was a lesser angel? And even if he demanded that he and a common actor would get rooms and invitation to a royal ball. Because, well, why not actually make use of his holy position for once?

The rooms were incredibly fancy. This one was purple, Lust’s preferred colour. With an enormous bed and the most beautiful furniture. He was almost sure that this was his favourite century yet. Sitting down on the luxurious bed, he patted the place next to him.

Without protest, Dance sat down. Lust closed his eye sockets as the other carefully took his face in his hands and pressed a light kiss to his teeth. It was such a different sensation from the desperate, rough kisses he had been used to before meeting and falling in love with the other. As Dance’s teeth pressed against his he couldn’t help but smile. Memories flashed through his mind. Of meeting the other in a temple, of falling in love with the actor, of realizing he felt the same. His soul fluttered in his chest.

Slowly he broke the kiss, freeing himself from the other’s arms. With a wave of his hand, he opened his inventory and picked out the gift he had for his beloved. Dance’s sockets widened as he stared at the silver music box Lust held out toward him. With a slight smirk, Lust nodded.

“For you, my darling,” he told the other, putting it down in Dance’s lap.

“lust-“ the other started, breaking off. He tried again, eyelights flickering between the box and the angel. “- i can’t take this. it’s far too valuable.”

Snorting slightly, Lust rolled his own heart-shaped eyelights. Gently, he took the other’s hand in his and traced the engraved words on the lid with one of Dance’s phalanges.

Remember the tango in the glen?

That was when they’d both first fallen in love. Dancing in the glen in the middle of a forest near Dance’s home village. Lust knew that he’d never forget it no matter how many millenia he lived.

“What am I supposed to with silver, sweetest? I deal in pleasure.”

Dance blinked – the corners of his sockets almost seemed slighy moist, didn’t they? – and then turned to smile toward Lust. It was a little wobbly, but filled with joy, and Lust’s soul skipped a beat. He smiled back, and opened the lock.

A melody spilled out. It was cheerful and lively and the song that had played the first time Lust had seen Dance dance. The first time he had dared to believe there might be something more in mortals than an eternal craving for bodily gratification. The song filled the room, and Dance’s smile grew wider. Standing up, he bowed lightly and offered his hand to Lust. Without hesistation, he took it and was immediately spun into the other’s arms as they danced over the bedroom floor.

500 years later

“We’ve found something!”

The loud yell was enough to startle the entire excavation. Every archeolog and student immediately hurried over toward the professor who had called out. They’d been here for weeks and hadn’t found anything of value. Lust followed the others. He was dressed in the same working outfit as the other, perhaps a little more fashionable. After Dance’s death he’d mourned, and then decided to join humanity and monsterkind to his best ability.

Now, he was trying out being an archeologist. Had gotten his university degree only two years ago. Everyone who reached the professor immediately helped digging, and soon one of his colleagues, Jeanette, held up a silver box.

Gathering around her, every scholar on the excavation stared in awe. For many it was their first real finding. Lust grinned, studying it as well, before his sockets widened. He gasped.

He recognized that box.

Feeling tears start to press at his sockets, he forced his way through the small crowd. There were a few disgruntled noises as he elbowed his way past a few monsters, but he didn’t care. The closer he got the surer he was.

Memories flashed through his mind. Laughter, dancing, stories and the tears from years of sorrow as he lost the only one except his brother he’d ever truly loved.

“M-may I see that?” he asked Jeanette. His voice trembled slightly, and he didn’t wait for more than a “I gu-“ before almost snatching it out of her hands. Reverently, Lust called up a small bit of magic as he swept his sleeve over it, cleaning it much more effective than a sleeve should. With the hand not holding the music box, he traced the words. They were the same, if a little more worn and filled with mud.

Remember the tango in the glen?

Despite the tears that had started to drip down his cheeks, Lust opened the box. To his surprise it still worked, the very same tune filling the muddy hill. Someone said something, but he didn’t bother to listen as his gaze caught something between the tears. A note stuffed with angel magic to last. Fumbling slightly, he took it. With a gasping breath, he read the message he’d left for his most beloved for so many years ago.

My love for you is immortal.

Swallowing, he felt how he trembled as he looked up at the very confused archelogists and students around him. He gave them a watery smile.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I know you worked hard to find this. But I don’t think I can lose him again. There’s a gold treasure beneath the other hill, if that helps.”

Snapping his fingers, he teleported. Lust clutched the music box tightly as he appeared in his home. He slowly sank to the floor, shutting his sockets and allowing the melody to take him back to the happiest times in his life as tears kept running down his cheeks and quiet sobs shook his body.

Laughter echoed through the theathre while they joked. They were on stage, and Lust told another pun as he allowed Dance to dip him lowly. He was grinning at his husband, and his husband grinned back. Their wild dance continued and this time it was Dance who made the audience laugh. Both simulataneously turned their heads toward the tiny backstage where their brothers stood, grimacing in distaste at their punning, but beaming at their happiness, and Lust felt his soul beat hard and fast in excitement-

#tango ship #lust/dance #underlust #dancetale #lust sans #dance sans #ul sans #dt sans #my writing #fluff #angst?#death #off-screen death #this isn't what i asked for a sans for earlier #by the way #i just wanted to do this #immortality

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fortheloveofeos · 7 years

Text

Tattoos - Nyx Ulric

Had some fun with Nyx’s tattoos and character design here. The large cat I mention here was part of his actual character design, which I mention here, and is a really beautiful piece of concept art that was never actually used in the game/movie. I added a few tats for…research purposes. Hope you like it.

Tagging Nyx friends: @chocobopuffs @daemonchocobo - and @opalandowl for the inspiration

xxx

Sitting back against the cracked leather booth of the worn out bar, Nyx sipped is warming beer. His head rested against the once white wall, which was now more of a dirty grey, and one arm was slung over the back of the booth. Crowe was seated beside him with enough room between them for Nyx’s knee to rest in the booth as well. Libertus was already maintaining a pretty good buzz and was rattling on about the love of his life he had apparently seen on his way out of the Citadel after his shift that day. Pelna was pretending to listen, but it was clear he was more focused on his phone than anything else.

“Are you just going to stare all night, or are you actually going to say something to her?” Crowe jabbed an elbow into his stomach playfully and jerked her head towards the bar. “Don’t tell me you’re scared, Hero.” She raised an eyebrow and laughed around her own beer as a few strands of her coffee-colored hair fell into her hazel eyes.

Pelna perked up, his dark eyes looking you over as you served up a round of shots to a loud group of probably college students. “Might have some competition,” he tilted his beer towards the bar just in time for one of the young men to make a rude gesture in your direction once you had turned your back.

Sighing, Nyx finished his drink before slamming the empty bottle down onto the chipped wooden table with considerable force. He managed to climb over Crowe without asking her to get up and landed gracefully in his heavy boots. “Is anyone listening?” Libertus whined before Nyx left his friends and made for the bar.

Your high-waisted, dark wash jeans might as well have been painted on and gave a perfect picture of your ass as you stretched onto your toes to fetch a bottle from the top shelf. Your long hair was swept up into bandana and your crop top allowed for a glimpse of the smooth skin just above the waistband of your jeans as you raised your arms. Nyx thought he caught a glimpse of a spiraling tattoo but you moved before he could focus on it. You had just brought the bottle down from the shelf when the young man that had made the rude gesture made a move to smack your ass over the bar.

Using his reflexes to his advantage, Nyx caught the would be offender’s arm and held it tightly enough to leave marks. “That’s not how you should treat a lady,” he spoke lowly and his blue eyes turned to icy steel as he clenched his jaw. The threat was clear in every part of his body as he glanced over at the rest of the group the kid had come into the bar with, almost begging one of them to make a move.

“Think you’d like to try that with me?” Crowe smirked and crossed her arms over her chest as she took up a position flanking Nyx. For her slender build, there wasn’t a Glaive alive that would willingly tango with the young woman once she had made up her mind.

Shuffling was heard before Pelna managed to get Libertus situated with his crutch against the bar. Although he was drunk, he was still a man of considerable size and the stone mask he slid into place over his flushed features was intimidating enough on its own. Pelna clapped Nyx on the shoulder, a teasing smile on his lips. “Can’t let you have all the fun now,” he turned to the young man still held in the Glaive’s grasp. “Do you need as escort out of the bar?”

Nyx loosened his grip enough to allow him to pull his arm free before he stumbled back a step. For all their show, the group of students dashed out of the bar pretty quickly before everyone turned their attention back to their drinks and their company.

“Could’ve handled myself,” you smiled as a you placed another round onto the counter in front of the four Glaives, “but I appreciate the help. This round’s on me.” You cracked the tops off each of the bottles before handing them out.

The others dispersed back to their claimed booth leaving Nyx in a barstool in front of you. You eyed him carefully, impressed by his rugged good looks and how well he could pull off the black leather pants and matching cotton shirt. Of course, you knew all about the Hero and the Glaives that frequented your little bar. However, you’d never spoken directly to Nyx Ulric, nor had you had the opportunity to observe him. The sides of his head had been recently shaved but his stubble made it clear he hadn’t bothered with his face. His eyes were crystal clear and glinted with something you thought might have been a mix of desire and mischief. What caught your eye the most, however, were the subtle tattoos that were placed on his skin to resemble birthmarks. Without thought, you looked at him and offered your name along with your outstretched hand.

“Nyx Ulric,” he smiled and he shocked you when he grasped your hand in his only to turn it over so that he could kiss your knuckles instead. “Nice to meet you.”

Laughing, you withdrew your hand and went back to tending the bar. Nyx, however, wouldn’t let that deter him and you found his smooth voice traveling down the bar to where you were. “Did I see a tattoo on your hip?” He questioned after several minutes of banter.

Rolling your eyes you motioned towards his cheek. “Looks like you’ve got your own,” you pointed out as you washed a glass.

Shooting you a wink as he tipped back his beer, he smirked. “More where that came from.”

You had taken that as an invitation in its own right. Your fingers tangled into the hemline of his shirt as Nyx kissed you roughly on his couch. The little teasing game the two of you had started had gone on for weeks. You knew he was hiding ink under his clothes and somehow finding them only made you more breathless as you ripped the shirt over his head. Your fingers immediately danced over the outline of Galahad that was placed just over his heart, loving that he shivered beneath your delicate touch. A tribal pattern traced over his collarbone and around his shoulder before ending just above his bicep. You ran your tongue over one of the twisting bands and he grunted before pushing you back.

“You’re turn,” he growled as he ripped your own shirt over your head. The skirt you’d picked out just to rile him up hung lowly on your hips and gave a much clearer view of your own marking. You let him trace a calloused finger over the vines and petals before standing up and shimmying the skirt down your legs. Standing in your underwear in front of him, he could see your own collection and made an appreciative grunt at the sight.

Nyx leaned forward, making a grab for you, but you danced just out of his reach with a giggle as you retreated towards his bedroom. Laughing, he followed close behind and once he turned to shut the door to his room, you caught the beautiful tattoo on the back of his shoulder. “Nyx,” you breathed in awe as you walked closer to study the work of art.

Easily the most beautiful piece you had ever seen, the tattoo took up his shoulder and part of his upper back. The image seemed to shimmer slightly with the white ink mixed amongst his tanned skin. Black and grey worked together to form the large coeurl-like feline that stared straight ahead. Something akin to horns seemed to grow from its cheeks and its blue eyes were strong and fierce. Before you could stop yourself, you traced a finger along the outline of its face.

“It’s beautiful,” you breathed with a smile.

Spinning around, Nyx caught your wrist, placing a kiss against your palm. “Thank you. It’s…very special to me.”

“What is it?”

Chuckling, Nyx led you over to the bed and pulled you down beside him. “It’s a feline species only seen on Galahad. They’re fierce creatures - incredible hunters, very loyal to those that earn their trust, and quite deadly if you cross their path.”

As you traced a finger absentmindedly over the ink, you sucked in a quick breath as realization dawned on you. “Your uniform. It’s based on this?” You had seen the patch of fur on the sleeve of Nyx’s uniform and you knew it wasn’t part of the standard issue appearance. He also wore the horned hood and you thought the intricate metalwork may have been meant to resemble the face of the cat.

“It is,” he confessed with a grin.

Somehow, it suited him. The wildness and strength of this obviously large predator seemed to resonate with the soul of the intoxicating man half-naked beneath your fingers. As he looked up at you where you sat beside him, you couldn’t help comparing his strong, bright blue eyes with those tattooed on his shoulder.

Still lost in your thoughts, you were shocked when Nyx pounced on you, pinning you playfully to the bed with a lighthearted chuckle. “Weren’t we in the middle of something?” He laughed before stealing a quick kiss, his fingers going back to tracing the ink over your hip.

“I guess I’m your prey?” You couldn’t help giggling as he rubbed his stubble against your face similar to how a cat might nuzzle its head to show affection. He was clearly having fun with your comparison.

Laughing at the gasp he earned after nipping at your neck, Nyx sat back with you still pinned beneath him. “I’ve had you in my sights for a while.” His mouth descended upon yours in a searing kiss that had you all but surrendering in his arms.

#nyx ulric x reader #nyx x reader #nyx ulric #kingsglaive #Kingsglaive fanfic #ffxv #ff15 #final fantasy #final fantasy xv #final fantasy 15 #final fantasy xv fanfiction #reader insert #crowe altius #libertus ostium #pelna khara

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