The Art of the Tattoo- Marvel Soulmate story

Chapter 18

ELIZABETH STARED AT HERSELF IN THE MIRROR. She had put the outfit together the way that Natasha had told her. The thick black socks underneath the knee high boots. The leather stuck to her, but it felt comfortable. The shorts were frayed and tight and she wondered if her ass looked big in them. But she couldn't tell. The shirt was cute though and she liked it a lot.

Natasha had taught her that she could stick knives into the sides of her boots and she had done so, one of Loki's knives in each one. Ever since Loki had told her about the dangers of being a soulmate of the Avengers, and ever since realizing that she was not the one they wanted, she knew she would have to learn to protect herself, because they would not be around to protect her.

She had, of course, overheard Bucky's comment after the game. She had thought, at first, that maybe it was just the saltiness of him losing the game. But both Hogun and Sam were legitimately pissed and angry, both unwilling to explain why, and so she knew, of course, that it was a façade for when she was living in the tower. Bucky didn't actually want her.

She wished she didn't feel as disappointed as she had felt. She had always prepared herself, had always braced herself. But with the soulmates being Avengers. . . she had let those guards down. Just because they were superheroes didn't suddenly mean they were flawless and willing to accept every soulmate they had. She had forgotten that.

She wanted to go back to the farm desperately. Fall planting season had already started and all she could think about was her father planting the corn and pumpkins by himself. He needed her, his tone had conveyed that much when she'd spoken to him yesterday night after dinner.

She needed someone to talk to. Her father was the best bet. Her father who understood her about everything.

Of course, she wouldn't tell him about Bucky. She didn't want to cause future problems for Y/N and him. That would be unreasonable.

She lifted her eyes to her face in the mirror. She'd almost never worn makeup before, only keeping it up during school. She had to admit, the paired makeup looked wonderful. A dark red-brown-unidentifiable colour sat upon her lips. A dark indigo eyeliner and sparkly lavender eyeshadow. Pink blush. Tan undereye. She'd been complimented by the stylist that she didn't need mascara because her eyelashes were already long enough. She supposed it was a compliment at least.

She turned away from the mirror. She didn't need any of this. She was only wearing it because Y/N seemed happy enough about it. Hogun had never cared about her dressing up or wearing more makeup than some concealer and lipstick.

Natasha had suggested that she pair the outfit with a dark black coat. It was fall after all and a bit chilly out, especially in Manhattan, New York.

She rummaged in the closet, finding that there seemed to be more clothes in here than she last remembered. More shirts that matched the one she was wearing now, identical pairs of shorts in other colours. She knew she hadn't bought this stuff.

She found a black coat, putting it on and decided to leave without looking to see how it matched. It didn't matter at this point. If her soulmates suddenly came flocking to her because of how she looked, then they weren't the kind of soulmates she wanted anyways.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

YOU WERE GETTING READY IN YOUR ROOM upstairs. You had finally decided on a sparkly dress that seemed made of glitter. The dress seller had kept the dress in a plastic bag, a knot tied a the bottom to keep the sparkles contained inside the bag. The dress was F/C.

The top crossed so that the straps circled around your head in a sort of 'x' motion. There was an oval shaped opening, the sides holding your large breasts together. It ended halfway down your thighs, and clung to every part of your body, showing off your curves and helped make your ass look thic.