And What Is This

And what is this

As a PoC, who mainly writes about PoCs this is the most helpful blog I have come across ever since I started writing. I find it difficult to be able to describe skin colour in the most intricate of ways, sometimes I leave subtle messages and leave it up to the reader to interpret them. But now I personally feel more comfortable with straight forward representation of my characters. 

Words for Skin Tone | How to Describe Skin Color

We discussed the issues describing People of Color by means of food in Part I of this guide, which brought rise to even more questions, mostly along the lines of “So, if food’s not an option, what can I use?” Well, I was just getting to that!

This final portion focuses on describing skin tone, with photo and passage examples provided throughout. I hope to cover everything from the use of straight-forward description to the more creatively-inclined, keeping in mind the questions we’ve received on this topic.

Standard Description

Basic Colors

Pictured above: Black, Brown, Beige, White, Pink.

“She had brown skin.”

This is a perfectly fine description that, while not providing the most detail, works well and will never become cliché.

Describing characters’ skin as simply brown or beige works on its own, though it’s not particularly telling just from the range in brown alone.

Complex Colors

These are more rarely used words that actually “mean” their color. Some of these have multiple meanings, so you’ll want to look into those to determine what other associations a word might have.

Pictured above: Umber, Sepia, Ochre, Russet, Terra-cotta, Gold, Tawny, Taupe, Khaki, Fawn.

Complex colors work well alone, though often pair well with a basic color in regards to narrowing down shade/tone.

For example: Golden brown, russet brown, tawny beige…

As some of these are on the “rare” side, sliding in a definition of the word within the sentence itself may help readers who are unfamiliar with the term visualize the color without seeking a dictionary.

“He was tall and slim, his skin a russet, reddish-brown.”

Comparisons to familiar colors or visuals are also helpful:

“His skin was an ochre color, much like the mellow-brown light that bathed the forest.”

Modifiers

Modifiers, often adjectives, make partial changes to a word.The following words are descriptors in reference to skin tone.

Dark - Deep - Rich - Cool

Warm - Medium - Tan

Fair - Light - Pale

Rich Black, Dark brown, Warm beige, Pale pink…

If you’re looking to get more specific than “brown,” modifiers narrow down shade further.

Keep in mind that these modifiers are not exactly colors.

As an already brown-skinned person, I get tan from a lot of sun and resultingly become a darker, deeper brown. I turn a pale, more yellow-brown in the winter.

While best used in combination with a color, I suppose words like “tan” “fair” and “light” do work alone; just note that tan is less likely to be taken for “naturally tan” and much more likely a tanned White person.

Calling someone “dark” as description on its own is offensive to some and also ambiguous. (See: Describing Skin as Dark)

Undertones

Undertones are the colors beneath the skin, seeing as skin isn’t just one even color but has more subdued tones within the dominating palette.

pictured above: warm / earth undertones: yellow, golden, copper, olive, bronze, orange, orange-red, coral | cool / jewel undertones: pink, red, blue, blue-red, rose, magenta, sapphire, silver. 

Mentioning the undertones within a character’s skin is an even more precise way to denote skin tone.

As shown, there’s a difference between say, brown skin with warm orange-red undertones (Kelly Rowland) and brown skin with cool, jewel undertones (Rutina Wesley).

“A dazzling smile revealed the bronze glow at her cheeks.”

“He always looked as if he’d ran a mile, a constant tinge of pink under his tawny skin.”

Standard Description Passage

“Farah’s skin, always fawn, had burned and freckled under the summer’s sun. Even at the cusp of autumn, an uneven tan clung to her skin like burrs. So unlike the smooth, red-brown ochre of her mother, which the sun had richened to a blessing.”

-From my story “Where Summer Ends” featured in Strange Little Girls

Here the state of skin also gives insight on character.

Note my use of “fawn” in regards to multiple meaning and association. While fawn is a color, it’s also a small, timid deer, which describes this very traumatized character of mine perfectly.

Though I use standard descriptions of skin tone more in my writing, at the same time I’m no stranger to creative descriptions, and do enjoy the occasional artsy detail of a character.

Creative Description

Whether compared to night-cast rivers or day’s first light…I actually enjoy seeing Characters of Colors dressed in artful detail.

I’ve read loads of descriptions in my day of white characters and their “smooth rose-tinged ivory skin”, while the PoC, if there, are reduced to something from a candy bowl or a Starbucks drink, so to actually read of PoC described in lavish detail can be somewhat of a treat.

Still, be mindful when you get creative with your character descriptions. Too many frills can become purple-prose-like, so do what feels right for your writing when and where. Not every character or scene warrants a creative description, either. Especially if they’re not even a secondary character.

Using a combination of color descriptions from standard to creative is probably a better method than straight creative. But again, do what’s good for your tale.

Natural Settings - Sky

Pictured above: Harvest Moon -Twilight, Fall/Autumn Leaves, Clay, Desert/Sahara, Sunlight - Sunrise - Sunset - Afterglow - Dawn- Day- Daybreak, Field - Prairie - Wheat, Mountain/Cliff, Beach/Sand/Straw/Hay.

Now before you run off to compare your heroine’s skin to the harvest moon or a cliff side, think about the associations to your words.

When I think cliff, I think of jagged, perilous, rough. I hear sand and picture grainy, yet smooth. Calm. mellow.

So consider your character and what you see fit to compare them to.

Also consider whose perspective you’re describing them from. Someone describing a person they revere or admire may have a more pleasant, loftier description than someone who can’t stand the person.

“Her face was like the fire-gold glow of dawn, lifting my gaze, drawing me in.”

“She had a sandy complexion, smooth and tawny.”

Even creative descriptions tend to draw help from your standard words.

Flowers

Pictured above: Calla lilies, Western Coneflower, Hazel Fay, Hibiscus, Freesia, Rose

It was a bit difficult to find flowers to my liking that didn’t have a 20 character name or wasn’t called something like “chocolate silk” so these are the finalists. 

You’ll definitely want to avoid purple-prose here.

Also be aware of flowers that most might’ve never heard of. Roses are easy, as most know the look and coloring(s) of this plant. But Western coneflowers? Calla lilies? Maybe not so much.

“He entered the cottage in a huff, cheeks a blushing brown like the flowers Nana planted right under my window. Hazel Fay she called them, was it?”

Assorted Plants & Nature

Pictured above: Cattails, Seashell, Driftwood, Pinecone, Acorn, Amber

These ones are kinda odd. Perhaps because I’ve never seen these in comparison to skin tone, With the exception of amber.

At least they’re common enough that most may have an idea what you’re talking about at the mention of “pinecone." 

I suggest reading out your sentences aloud to get a better feel of how it’ll sounds.

"Auburn hair swept past pointed ears, set around a face like an acorn both in shape and shade.”

I pictured some tree-dwelling being or person from a fantasy world in this example, which makes the comparison more appropriate.

I don’t suggest using a comparison just “cuz you can” but actually being thoughtful about what you’re comparing your character to and how it applies to your character and/or setting.

Wood

Pictured above: Mahogany, Walnut, Chestnut, Golden Oak, Ash

Wood can be an iffy description for skin tone. Not only due to several of them having “foody” terminology within their names, but again, associations.

Some people would prefer not to compare/be compared to wood at all, so get opinions, try it aloud, and make sure it’s appropriate to the character if you do use it.

“The old warlock’s skin was a deep shade of mahogany, his stare serious and firm as it held mine.”

Metals

Pictured above: Platinum, Copper, Brass, Gold, Bronze

Copper skin, brass-colored skin, golden skin…

I’ve even heard variations of these used before by comparison to an object of the same properties/coloring, such as penny for copper.

These also work well with modifiers.

“The dress of fine white silks popped against the deep bronze of her skin.”

Gemstones - Minerals

Pictured above: Onyx, Obsidian, Sard, Topaz, Carnelian, Smoky Quartz, Rutile, Pyrite, Citrine, Gypsum

These are trickier to use. As with some complex colors, the writer will have to get us to understand what most of these look like.

If you use these, or any more rare description, consider if it actually “fits” the book or scene.

Even if you’re able to get us to picture what “rutile” looks like, why are you using this description as opposed to something else? Have that answer for yourself.

“His skin reminded her of the topaz ring her father wore at his finger, a gleaming stone of brown, mellow facades.” 

Physical Description

Physical character description can be more than skin tone.

Show us hair, eyes, noses, mouth, hands…body posture, body shape, skin texture… though not necessarily all of those nor at once.

Describing features also helps indicate race, especially if your character has some traits common within the race they are, such as afro hair to a Black character.

How comprehensive you decide to get is up to you. I wouldn’t overdo it and get specific to every mole and birthmark. Noting defining characteristics is good, though, like slightly spaced front teeth, curls that stay flopping in their face, hands freckled with sunspots…

General Tips

Indicate Race Early: I suggest indicators of race be made at the earliest convenience within the writing, with more hints threaded throughout here and there.

Get Creative On Your Own: Obviously, I couldn’t cover every proper color or comparison in which has been “approved” to use for your characters’ skin color, so it’s up to you to use discretion when seeking other ways and shades to describe skin tone.

Skin Color May Not Be Enough: Describing skin tone isn’t always enough to indicate someone’s ethnicity. As timeless cases with readers equating brown to “dark white” or something, more indicators of race may be needed.

Describe White characters and PoC Alike: You should describe the race and/or skin tone of your white characters just as you do your Characters of Color. If you don’t, you risk implying that White is the default human being and PoC are the “Other”).

PSA: Don’t use “Colored.” Based on some asks we’ve received using this word, I’d like to say that unless you or your character is a racist grandmama from the 1960s, do not call People of Color “colored” please. 

Not Sure Where to Start? You really can’t go wrong using basic colors for your skin descriptions. It’s actually what many people prefer and works best for most writing. Personally, I tend to describe my characters using a combo of basic colors + modifiers, with mentions of undertones at times. I do like to veer into more creative descriptions on occasion.

Want some alternatives to “skin” or “skin color”? Try: Appearance, blend, blush, cast, coloring, complexion, flush, glow, hue, overtone, palette, pigmentation, rinse, shade, sheen, spectrum, tinge, tint, tone, undertone, value, wash.

Skin Tone Resources

List of Color Names

The Color Thesaurus

Skin Undertone & Color Matching

Tips and Words on Describing Skin

Photos: Undertones Described (Modifiers included)

Online Thesaurus (try colors, such as “red” & “brown”)

Don’t Call me Pastries: Creative Skin Tones w/ pics I 

Writing & Description Guides

WWC Featured Description Posts

WWC Guide: Words to Describe Hair

Writing with Color: Description & Skin Color Tags

7 Offensive Mistakes Well-intentioned Writers Make

I tried to be as comprehensive as possible with this guide, but if you have a question regarding describing skin color that hasn’t been answered within part I or II of this guide, or have more questions after reading this post, feel free to ask!

~ Mod Colette

And suddenly, life has meaning again 😘🤌🏽

a short ego 08 preview

because i'm working on the chapter now and i've had 2 glasses of wine and am therefore in a sharing mood lmao. subject to change as always! 😉🤸🏾‍♀️✨

You knew your best friend.

You were perfectly aware that ignoring his texts and calls would not make him go away—that not responding in a timely manner would only result in him seeking you out. But, at the very least, you were sure you had bought yourself a couple of days. The fact that Namjoon was currently standing in the doorway to your living room, a plastic bag dangling from a couple fingers, was proof that you had been wrong.

Your eyes narrowed, immediately looking past him to where your traitorous roommate was casually rooting around in the refrigerator. “Meen! I thought we agreed no visitors!”

“Since when is Namjoon a visitor?” Mina snorted, not even bothering to spare you a glance. “He practically lives here.”

“Mina.”

“My bad,” she replied mildly, not sounding sorry in the least. She shut the fridge door, taking an unbothered sip from her newly-procured beverage as she headed back to her room with a shrug. “Maybe next time you should specify.”

“Really?” you hissed, but she didn’t even acknowledge your indignation as she left.

Namjoon’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked at you, unimpressed and slightly offended. “I know you did not just try to call security on me.”

You let out a loud huff, turning away from him to moodily stare at your tv, intent on getting back to your Snapped marathon. “Joonie, go away, I’m done with men. All they do is disappoint me.”

“Hmm, are you sure about that? I brought you that Italian sub you like.”

At the sound of crinkling plastic, your attention rather predictably drifted back to where he was tauntingly swaying his bribe.

“…your pass expires in twenty-four hours.”

Namjoon ignored your grabby hands, instead choosing to join you on the couch and set the bag just out of reach on the coffee table. The cushion bounced a bit when he determinedly plopped down next to you, the two of you staring at each other in the stretching silence, waiting for the other to break. In the end, your best friend’s current patience turned out to be shorter than your current pettiness levels.

“What happened?” he asked rather gently. And just like that, his obvious concern easily reawakened the swirling emotion that you had been spending all day pushing down, down. “Are you okay?”

“I’m just fine, Namjoon,” you sniffed, eyes shifting away. Down, down. “Just fine and dandy.”

From the look on his face, he didn’t believe you, and frankly, you didn’t blame him. Yes, it had been a few hours since you had essentially had a meltdown and manipulated your mutual friend into giving you his car, but that wasn’t nearly enough time to pull yourself together and rope your feelings into something more muted and productive. Joonie knew that—he knew you—and so he had clearly found you as soon as he could, seemingly hopping right off the BTS bus and making pit stops only to drop off his bag and pick up your sandwiches.

However, despite the logical part of your brain plainly laying all of these facts out for you, the panicky part still reigned supreme, reflexive in its feigned ignorance.

“_____, you are clearly not fine.”

“And so what if I’m not? What, did you come all the way here to comfort me by letting me rest my head on your bosom?”

He looked at you flatly. “For the last time, I do not have a bosom.”

“And for the last time, you do. Now stop fighting me and let me put my face in your titties. You know that always makes me feel better.”

“So you’re admitting that you feel bad,” Joon pointed out triumphantly.

Damn. You had walked right into that one.

“Who said that? Can’t a girl just get motorboated in peace?”

“AHT!” Namjoon interrupted, raising a warning finger.

“What?” you asked defensively.

“Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“You know what.”

“What?”

“The whole shutting down and shutting people out thing you always do whenever you get really upset. I’m gonna need you to communicate and stop deflecting!”

You blinked, reflexively tensing at being read so blatantly. See, this was exactly why you had tried to stay away from Namjoon for as long as possible in the first place. He knew you way too well and wouldn’t allow you to properly wallow in your misery like you wanted. Rude ass.

We aren’t free till Palestine is free

PALESTINIANS HAVE BEEN FIGHTING THIS FIGHT FOR SEVENTY THREE YEARS!!! THEIR LAND HAS BEEN USURPED, OCCUPIED AND DEMOLISHED FOR SEVENTY THREE YEARS!!!

It’s not Hamas using Palestinian women and children as “Human Shields” its the IDF PURPOSEFULLY BOMBING HOSPITALS, SCHOOLS AND HOUSES TO MURDER THE PALESTINIAN PEOPLE !!!! ITS ETHNIC CLEANSING, ITS APARTHEID, ITS WAR CRIMES AGAINST A PEOPLE WHO HAVE NO WEAPONS TO DEFEND THEMSELVES!!!!!!!!!!! 

They are shelling and air striking on neighborhoods where there are mainly children and women. ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY FOUR Palestinians have already died as a result of this and SEVENTY FOUR of those were CHILDREN UNDER THE AGE OF 10!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Please I IMPLORE you to take a moment to reblog this post/share/talk about/inform yourself  and educate those around you about what is happening in Palestine. This isn’t a new situation, this has been the reality of Palestinians for longer than they deserve and people need to speak up and stand with them! 

YOU DO NOT HAVE TO BE MUSLIM, ARAB, OR PALESTINIAN TO KNOW THIS IS WRONG. THIS ISN’TABOUT RELIGION. THIS IS ABOUT HUMAN RIGHTS AND THE GENOCIDE THAT IS HAPPENING TO THEM AND THAT PALESTINIANS DESERVE THE RIGHT TO BE TREATED AS HUMANS AND HAVE THE RIGHT TO LIVE IN THEIR LAND PEACEFULLY!!!!!!

Below are links to donate, and CORRECT information on the situation. If you want to know more, please feel free to DM or send me an ask and I’ll gladly answer all your questions!

Keep reading

Her

Chapter one: Forest 

UD- 24th June 2021

Summary: AU series were Bucky is safe and sound after AOU, (Y/N) (L/N) is a troubled woman with a haunting past, and its coming back to enslave her. But she doesn’t care, her interest is in a certain Captain America lead to a night that set off a series of unfortunate twists and turns. Can she come out on the other side, with her past a secret and a family to come home to. Or will she burn and take everyone down with her.

Warning! some themes that are triggering to some: VIOLENCE, NON-CON THEMES, DRUGS AND ALCHOL USE, BLOOD.

Translations at the bottom

inner thoughts for the reader are in bold italic

telepathic communication between people are in italic

Word Count 6.4K

Chapter II- crimson : Chapter III-Hiraeth 

The silence is too loud.

The music was booming for everyone else, but as she zoned out and watched as he danced with her. The silence became familiar- again. She could feel the bass of the music, the rhythm and how the floor vibrated with every living soul in the room jumping and twisting to the music.

But she stood still, watching- painfully as he dances with her. It was worse enough that he did not know how she felt about him but watching him dance with someone else was what made the tears fall, the heart claw its way out of her chest and break at her feet.

“Hey, (Y/N). I’m going to head out back for a quick smoke.” She nodded numbly as her eyes stained the image in her head of her arms around his shoulders. She jumped slightly when a heavy hand was placed on the side of her arm. “Yes, James. I know, you’re going for a smoke,” she spoke loudly as she turned to face unfamiliar green eyes that sharply stared back. She mustered a tight smile when he mouthed ‘hello’.

“Can I buy you a drink?” She stared at him, confusion running through her mind as she tried to piece together what he said. After a few moments of silence, she gestured to her ears indicating that she could not hear him. That is when he leaned in closer; so close that she felt his nose nudge the top of her ear lobe.

“Can I buy you a drink?” His warm breath sent a flutter in her stomach as his deep voice whispered to her.

Not being able to muster up the courage to speak. She weakly nodded back, stunned that a man like him would offer to buy a woman like her a drink. She blinked once, twice, three times and yet she could not come to terms with the fact that he was holding her hand and leading her towards the bar.

Sliding into the last stool against the bar she tilted her head back a bit to look at the man standing before her. She watched as he leant over to order the two drinks and licked her lips slightly. ‘When were they so dry?’ she asked herself. Reaching into her bag she quickly applied a thin layer of Chapstick to her patchy lips. But a feeling of being watched made her slowed down her motion; looking up she met the curious eyes of wonder-boy in front of her. His green eyes gleamed with humour.

“What?” She quietly mumble, yet he seemed to know what she said. He shook his head slightly before nudging her legs open to stand closer to her.

“You work fast,” his chuckle vibrated throughout her body. Laughing along with him she shook her head in return.

“No, no my lips were just dry. I swear. But you’d know when I’m working.” She blushed slightly at the sudden courage.

The feeling felt foreign but nice.

She tilted her head to the side as she watched the man’s eyes scan over her face. Just her face, not her cleavage that was suffocating in the tight romper that Natasha made her wear. And not her legs, which even she could not deny looked good in the romper, however it was just a little bit too high for her liking. She glanced to the side for a split second, a smirk tugging onto the corner of her lips as she saw the drink Kelly, the bartender, was sliding over.

“Blowjob?” Green eyes grew wide within a second, shock evident in the sparkling orbs.

“What!”

“My blowjob, can you just reach over and get it please?” She tilted her head, showing green eyes where her drink was sat there waiting. She had to stop herself form blushing as the man’s hands gripped onto her thighs lightly to stabilise himself as he lent back to grab the drink. She drunk in the image of his shirt under stress from the simple motion. She blushed profusely as she gazed upon his nipples that were perking through the material.

A cough interrupted her moment, gazing through her long eyelashes she saw the chocolate and vanilla swirl substance in the shot glass in the man’s hands. Timidly she reached out and grabbed the glass; without a second thought she threw her head back and downed the shot. Vodka and Belgium chocolate mixed with vanilla essence filled her senses. She let out a small moan as the smooth texture slipped down her throat. Cooling her burning throat.

Making eye contact with the emerald eyes; she swiped her tongue around the circumference of the glass, as if mimicking the motion of her tongue when she would be giving the desired lustrous motion.

“Does it taste nice? I think I should get one.” The man’s throat moved as he swallowed deeply, flustered with the gesture he saw in front of him.

Shaking her head, she maintained eye contact with the beauty in front of her; dropping the shot glass onto the bar she reached forward and grabbed the back of the man’s thick neck, drawing closer she glanced at his lips before looking back into his eyes, that had grown a shade darker. 

(E/C) eyes stared into a forest so green, she lost herself in its beauty. He followed her the rest of the way and he planted his lips onto her plump ones, his hand coming up to caress her cheek. First it was slow and timid until she gently swiped her tongue onto the bottom of his now swollen lip.

Lips battled together as tongues fought for dominance. The taste of the blowjob was shared between them, causing him to moan at the sweet and bitter taste of the drink.

Moments passed before the two broke apart for air, chests rising and falling heavily, they each sported a goofy smile. He licked his lips, staring at the blushing mess in front of him.

“It tastes nice doesn’t it?” Her voice was husky, a slight rasp to it that she suddenly gained out of nowhere. The man shook his head.

She rose a perfectly arched eyebrow in confusion, slightly disappointed that she did not achieve her goal.

“I only got to taste it a little bit, I think I need to try it again.” A flash of mischief darted across his eyes, soon seen in hers too. She threw her head back laughing, catching the attention of her friends.

Nodding happily, she watched as the man stood from his seat and walked closer between her legs, she was just a few inches shorter than him on the high bar stool, her forehead coming to his eyebrows.

“The names Damien by the way.” She chuckled lowly and quickly pecked his lips.

“(Y/N),” she hummed as they came together, losing themselves in teeth and tongues. They lost themselves in the moment, lost themselves in the feeling that overcame all their senses.

Lost themselves in each other.

(Y/N)’s hand slid down and pressed on Damien’s chest, lightly pushing him away before they both suffocated in their not-so silent adventure of lust.

“I think…” Her words got lost as she gulped; eyes fixated on a bead of sweat that lusciously travelled down his thick neck. “I think we are in a too public place for this?” She tilted her head as her eyes cast over the crowd; although most of them were either too intoxicated or horny to care. She still felt self-conscious. To exposed to be doing something intimate yet whorish in public. Damien nodded his head, causing the mop of jet-black curls on top of his head to wobble childishly.

His grip on her thighs tightened a bit before he realised what she meant; nodding he grabbed her hands and helped her stand, not before flagging down a bartender ordering another drink. He turned to her, eyes ablaze before his husky voice floated out his mouth and down her hopeless body:

“Meet me on the west-balcony? I’ll get us a beer.” He nodded before turning back around to pay for the drinks.

With a skip in her step, (Y/N) pushed past the sweaty mass of bodies and made her way to the small black and violet metal staircase that spiralled upward to the next level. Just as her hand reached the railing to support herself a rough hand gently came down on hers, halting her in her venture upstairs.

“Where are you going?” His voice was not loud, it was soft and calming to her, but it held the same authoritative tone that was always present whenever they’d gone on missions. And she hated that he was not letting go like he should be. Especially with her, with them getting all handsy and- fuck did she hate seeing the two of them together.

Quickly glancing into his captivating eyes, she blinks profusely to get the image out of her head before looking over his broad shoulder; to the woman that caused the fire in her stomach to burn her intestines and heart.

“Upstairs, is that a problem?” She looked him in the eyes again, praying not to crumble under the intensity of them.

“No, it’s just, I um. I don’t know if you should be alone with that man by yourself.” His left hand came up and scratched the back of his head awkwardly, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. Normally she would have found it cute, sexy even. But tonight, right then and there it angered her more.

Ripping her hand from under his right one, as if it scorched her skin, she pointed it up, so it hovered in front of his nose; her eyes squinted slightly as her shoulders squared, telling the man in front of her that she’s mad.

“You, Mr Steve Roger, fucking Captain America: told the team to come out here to let lose, enjoy ourselves, and for one goddam minute I get a chance to do that, you have to come along and break the moment of freedom I have.” She scoffed as she looked over her shoulder and watched Damien walk over, his right hand holding a ‘Strawberry & Lime’ Kopparberg and his left a Corona. He tilted his head to the side, raising his eyebrows in confusion.

“Go back to your show girl Steve, please I’m trying to act like everything is okay for me, and you doing that is making it so much easier.” Damien came over and handed her the Kopparberg before slipping his arm around her waist.

“(Y/N), what are you talking about,” his eyes burned with immense fire as he watched her turn around to walk up the stairs with the strange man. She turned to look over at him one more time, wishing she could just jump into his arms and hold him, tell him she loves him.

“I’ll see you later Rogers,” nodding to herself she brought the bottle to her lips and chugged half of it down in fear she would end up crying. She cannot cry, it’s not the time.

Never is.

She grabbed onto Damien’s shoulder as they clambered up the spiral staircase and broke their way onto the empty balcony.

Fresh air slapped (Y/N) on the face harshly as she emerged from the inferno of a building, she welcomed the new oxygen with open arms giddily skipping her way to the railing that looked over the New York scene, jaw hanging as she took in the plethora of lights and bodies.

She’s lived here for so many years now and will never get used to the scene of New York at night, the lights on buildings, cars, and the people. The people are truly the greatest sight to behold.

Sitting high enough so you can gaze down upon them but not be immediately spotted was the best way to watch the bustle of flesh and bones; the outfits, the conversations and the body language gave her hours of entertainment as she watched from building rooftops. Occasionally sitting with her legs dangling off the side as she ate lunch and watched the people move below with no idea of being watched by the mastermind behind every Avengers OP.

“You look like you’ve never seen New York before,” she just hummed as she gulped down the rest of her fruity cider. She set it down by her feet before straightening up and looking back at the sight before her.

(Y/N) looked down and smiled as she saw Bucky leaning against the wall of the club that juts out, smoothly talking to a girl with red hair; ‘Doesn’t have a type my ass.’ She scoffed as she thought to herself. She heard the sound of someone clearing their throat which caused her to whip her head around, maybe a little bit too fast as her vision begins to become a bit blurry.

Stumbling slightly; she grabs onto the railing behind her tightly as her foot bends awkwardly in her white heels – “What?”- her Black and green romper suddenly starts to become a little bit too tight as her senses overload, noises get louder and quieter at the same time, her breathing sounds foreign to her own ears, her body is suddenly covered in a light sheet of sweat.

She moaned as her head throbs along with the loud vibration of the music below her feet. She slowly lifts her head to meet Damien, a strangled moan escapes her lips as she lets go of the railings and tries to walk towards him. But she couldn’t even but one foot in front of the other. She felt herself stumble to the ground before a pair of strong arms gripped her waist tightly pulling her securely to their chest. ‘Steve?’  the thought echoed tauntingly in her head as her fear stained (E/C) eyes met forest green. A forest haunted with monsters and nightmares.

A forest she once wanted to get lost in, but now is trapped and running for help. “Look at you. We are going to have fun, aren’t we.” A smile spread across his face as he slowly put his arms underneath her legs to hike her up, he held her to his chest before walking back towards the door, he mumbled as one of her white heels slipped of her feet but simply kicked it to the side as he continued his adventure back inside.

The world spun around her as she laid still, helplessly in her capture’s arms. She couldn’t move, it was like she was trapped in her own body aware of the things going on, yet uncapable of doing anything about it. Her head limply fell to the right and her eyes widened when she saw the familiar navy-blue dress shirt among the mass of black and white; she saw him, her hope.

But her hope couldn’t see her.

She mumbled pathetically and mustered all her strength to move out of Damien’s hold. But it was nothing because he didn’t even visibly flinch or tighten his grip.

Nothing.

She was suddenly pulled further into his chest so he could adjust his grip. She was pulled closer to the devil, her death.

Her end.

Damien’s smile grew bigger as he moved his leg slightly to open the office door in front of him, joy ran through his body, glad he wasn’t caught or stopped. Even if he were, nothing would stop him having her. He’d been watching her since he saw her waiting outside in the line for the club. His other plans would have to wait, he needs her, one way or another. 

Needs.

Consent or not he didn’t care. It was more fun without anyway.

He walked further into the office and looked to his left seeing the small living area and office that looked over the club. A massive one- way mirror let him look over the scene of cash flow without anyone seeing him. To the right the kitchen acted as a divider between living space and bedroom, a small archway close to the front door led back to the bed and bathroom. Turning right he walked through the archway and smirked when he saw his king-size bed calling out to him. He peered down at (Y/N) in his arms and laughed when he saw her eyes furiously moving around trying to make out her surroundings.

Walking to the end of the bed he chucked her down and watched her bounce as she roughly hit the mattress. He shivered in joy as a moan of pain slipped through her plump lips. He stood in the archway and watched as she struggled to lift her upper body off the mattress. A whine escaped her lips that slowly turned into a pathetic sob once she realised, she was paralysed to the fate that was inevitable.

He stalked towards her, like an animal in a hunt, growling in pride when he came to stand in front of her; grabbing her ankles, he dragged her till her hips lay on the bed with the rest of her upper body.

“Shush now pretty girl, let Daddy enjoy his moment.” Gargled sobbing filled the silence as he took in the image of her lying before her, helpless.

“No,” her voice was quiet but loud enough for him to hardly hear it, it caused a growl to arise from his stomach as he launched forward and grabbed the neckline of her romper and tore it. Fabric flew everywhere, buttons bounced off of the walls and the sound caused a moan to escaped Damien’s mouth.

He watched as goose bumps covered her exposed abdomen and chest, his eyes hungrily drank in the sight before they moved to the lace covered chest. He watched the movement as she took in every rigid inhale and exhale. 

“You’re spoiling me (Y/N).” He reached out and cupped her breast, pride swelled within him as he pinched the middle and unclasped it easily, letting the mounds of flesh breathe. His attention on her chest was undivided until he felt her leg kick him weakly. He looked into her glassy (E/C) eyes and tutted tauntingly at her before looking down at her legs as she kicked him again.

But his breath caught once they caught sight of her lace covered crotch, heat flooded to his stomach and crotch as he noticed her lace panties matched her bra, forest green. They contrasted perfectly with her dark skin tone, like a forbidden fruit he knew he couldn’t touch. But fuck rules.

“You were made for me baby girl,” his smile became toothy as he goofily giggled to himself, reaching out to pull her panties down.

(Y/N)’s eyes grew stormy as they filled with tears that cascaded down her flushed face, the drugs were working, she knew that much as she couldn’t move and felt so disorientated.

Goosebumps littered her skin and organs as she felt sweaty hands caress her trembling thighs. Were they trembling? She couldn’t feel it; she can’t feel anything however she does feel one thing.

Emptiness, she felt it the moment her back painfully hit the mattress. She felt hollow, and empty shell that once held liveliness and love.

“Stop, no, no!” Her voice rose slightly when she felt his hands around her waist, she looked into his snake green eyes and cringed; the fire within them burnt her soul, she was fucked, she knew it.

She gasped as she was lifted slightly and whipped upwards suddenly, her head rolled backwards and to the side at the sudden movement. Her heart hammered in her chest; it overpowered the feeling of the bass beneath them.

The club, god how people are clueless. She’s in her worst nightmare whilst people are swallowed in lust, drugs, and alcohol to notice. Her team is enjoying their free time to notice.

Steve’s to busy wrapped in her grip to notice. And she told him to.

‘It’s all your fault (Y/N).’

‘I know, I know…’

‘You let him slip through your fingers again and this is the consequence.’

‘I’m sorry’

A whimper left her mouth as she realised what she did, how she condemned herself to this hell. This grip that would never let her go, scarring her for life and haunting her dreams.

She jerked forward as she felt herself being situated onto Damien’s lap as he pulled her towards him. Before she could realise his lips slobbered overs hers, vacuuming them in as he swallowed her lips. (Y/N) tried to pull back, but her efforts were useless.

Stupid.

His hands travelled down and groped her ass cheeks, painfully grabbing them as he forced her to rock against his growing erection. Her eyes stayed wide open, watching his closed ones as he continued his assault. The tears never stopped.

Never.

A breath of frustration left his mouth as he forced her off his lap and shoved her back onto the bed. He clambered over her limp body and sat, hard, on her pelvis, causing a scream to escape her mouth.

He just smiled and reach down to unbuckle his belt.

“Stop! Help me, please someone help. Please!” Her voice grew louder by the second, desperation causing it to boom throughout the room. She continued screaming, fear growing in her as she noticed that he hadn’t tried to stop her from screaming.

“Scream all you like baby girl, no one’s gonna hear you. To noisy downstairs.” His belt became slack as he watched the horror of the situation finally wash over her face. The smirk remained as the cascade of tears increased but was immediately wiped of when a hard force hit his cheek.

“Fuck. You.” Her voice cracked with anger, she stared daringly into the fiery gaze that was casted down upon her from the man that sat upon her pelvis. The anger filled the room and caused the temperature to increase.

Her vision swirled as she was violently flipped onto her stomach, she didn’t even notice Damien move off of her. But she did notice his hands coming to hold her hips to lift her, so her ass was in the air. A feeling suddenly came crashing through her system and she felt the strength to surge forward. Her body moved, and she managed to fall onto the floor, she cried out as she shuffled forward. But that cry died when the arms of death grabbed her again and hauled her up from the floor.

“NO! No get off of me! Get the fuck off me!” (Y/N)’s legs flayed about as she used all her mustered-up energy to fight him off.

“God dammit you slut, stop fighting me,” his growl ripped through her body and it caused her to fight harder. She flung her head backwards, so it slammed down to hit his nose; causing him to let her go, she stumbled forward from the sudden force but maintained her balance long enough to let her turn around and grab his hair. She slammed her knee into his ribcage causing a loud crack to fill the prison cell and sighed as she watched him fall to the ground holding his abdomen.

Her vision swam as she navigated her way through the haunting environment; she made her way to the open planned space, ran to the large window and rapidly banged her fists against the window, she screamed louder hoping someone would hear but gave up realising her efforts were futile.

Turning around clumsily she whipped her head back and forth looking for the door, she saw two. One to her left and one to her right.

“Fuck.” She heard Damien groan quietly and made a rash decision.

Right, fuck it.

She stepped quickly not trusting herself to run, she couldn’t even see straight. Her hands flayed about touching everything in her path to make sure she didn’t bump into anything; she didn’t look back at the sound of a lamp and vase smashing on the ground as she knocked them over on her way to her freedom. Her hand wrapped around the knob she twisted it left before opening it all the way, her heart clenched as she saw the lights and heard the music grow louder in the familiar hallway. Her left foot dragged against the floor as she walked forward. Her breathing drowned out the music.

“No!” the hand around her ankle forced her to trip over and fall on her left shoulder; she looked down at her feet and cried louder at the monster that clung to her ankle dragging her back into his cave.

She kicked out with her free foot and shuddered slightly as it came in contact with his eye, she moved onto her elbows and used them to drag herself forward. She army crawled forward for what felt like forever before the same sweaty hands came onto her shoulders and turned her around. The pressure on her stomach made her aware of the man sat on her ribcage, she felt her heart coming out of her chest.

“Get off!” Her hands waved out and tried hitting Damien, but he was one step ahead of her and grabbed a hold of her wrists before placing them in his right hand and bringing them down to her chest.

“You bitch, I’m gonna make this hurt,” her head came up and before she could think, spit flew from her mouth and landed on his ironically perfect face. She sobbed as he stared dead at her face, unmoving, nerve wracking. “Help!” her scream rattled her bones as it came back hollow, no one heard it she knew she was helplessly screaming.

“Get o- “(Y/N)’s scream was cut short as hands wrapped around her throat; then, clamped down and squeezed, her legs kicked out helplessly and her vision pulsed as the air was clamped shut. Her temples throbbed and pulsed as her hearing was drowned out by the rapid beating of her heart. It hammered against her ribcage begging to be released.

Her vision turned red as she gazed into the eyes of the man, who she thought was safe, welcoming. But it’s her fault; being surrounded by all types of criminals should’ve told her not to trust a random man, no matter how captivating his eyes are. But her mind being clouded with thoughts of a certain man led to her not thinking straight.

Or was she?

Was she thinking straight enough to know the consequences, no matter how big or small? If she were to wake up naked in his bed after a good night of consensual, sensual sex; or if she went on to regret the decision or a small token of the decision stayed within her for nine months and a following lifetime. (Y/N)’s head felt close to exploding as it filled with all different scenarios that could’ve had a happy ending, or at least a moderate one. But the tighter the hands wrapped around her neck, the more her vision turned red and the more her head filled with a mediocre distraction.

“Your eyes look even more beautiful.” His voice held a tone of adoration and lust, it made (Y/N) want to throw up. His green eyes sparkled with glee at the sight of the whites of her eyes turning red. Green eyes scanned the nakedness that lay before him, goosebumps and stretch marks adorned her beautiful dark skin at it was all for him. He licked his lips hungrily, once Kuznetsov was done with her he’d ask for her back. Yes, he’d keep her.

She clawed at his hands and wrists, trying to stop him. Pathetically. Her fingers dug into the flesh of his wrists, hoping to loosen the grip he had on her fragile neck. But her strength started to vanish, weaken. Her ragged breaths grew shorter and quieter as she felt the last of her oxygen leave her body. But with one last breath she mustered up the strength to scream one last time. “Bucky!” she gasped as the hands tightened more, she tilted her head backwards as she felt a different vibration rock her body. She knew doing this would cause the effects of Damien’s hands to work faster but she didn’t care. 

Not now.

Her vision was clouded with black dots as she saw the familiar glint of the Vibranium arm, it sent a dull wave of relief through her body.

“Get the fuck off of her, you monster!” Bucky’s voice felt like it was miles away, as it bounced off her eardrums and back into the dark hallway.

The pressure of her neck was released suddenly causing her to gasp for air, her back arching upwards as if a string were pulling her chest towards the ceiling. Everything hit (Y/N) at once, the chilling air made her realise how exposed she was. The lights burned her eyes and the voices in her head made her realise how close she was to the edge.

Her head spun in rapid circles as the tidal wave of oxygen crashed violently against her system. The pain became unbearable as she started to cry, a hoarse sob of sorts as her throat contracted violently.

She felt the floor shake dangerously under her, the sound of metal on flesh filled her ears, the sound of running feet, the sound of an injured man begging for mercy.

She couldn’t breathe properly; her chest felt sore, broken. Just like her will to live.

Her body felt weightless as its floated teetering on the edge of life and death, even with no hands grappling her throat, she still couldn’t breathe. She just felt so tired, so tired.

(Y/N)’s eyes stayed open, wide open, as she tried to fight for one deep breath, just one. But it came and went before she could even register, she was breathing. It became unbearable after a while; she needed to rest, to sleep or die.

Whatever stopped the pain.

“Romanova!” the name barely entered her head as she watched the light above her head started to flicker.

On.

Off.

On.

Off.

It distracted her for a while, enough to not realise the growing sound of a stampede of feet running underneath her.

‘(Y/N), respira’ [(Y/N) breathe]

The witches voice in her head caused her to let out a painful gasp, she squeezed her eyes shut at the sudden pain.

‘I can’t do this anymore, it hurts.’

“(Y/N), sunt aici acum. Deschide-ti ochii.” [I’m here now open your eyes]

Wanda’s calming voice caused her muscles to relax. Her chest arched upwards as her eyes unscrewed themselves. She let out a sob, not caring about the searing pain that shot down her throat. The back of her eyes felt sore as her vision came back; she struggled to keep them open, but the sight of the red-headed witch gave her strength. Hope.

“Wa-” her voice cut off with a strangled cry. Her throat felt as if a hot iron rod was shoved down it and as it was pulled back it caught the flesh lining the walls of her windpipe and tore it apart. The pain was unbearable. She wondered for a split second how much pain Damien had actually caused her body, internally and externally.

Mentally and emotionally.

“Taci acum” [ Hush now]

She felts Wanda’s cold hands caress her burning forehead lovingly, it gave her a moment of relief, short and quick. The hand slipped to the back of (Y/N)’s head and lifted it up onto Wanda’s lap; the witch carefully stroked the (H/C) hair carefully.

Her hands were absorbed in a red hue as she soothed the sobbing woman in her grasp, begging herself not to come to tears for her friends.

“Hush now my love. Just try to stay awake. Okay?” Her voice broke slightly at the sight of the broken woman underneath her hands. She could feel the chaos raging around in her head, the symphony of emotions plagiarizing her heart. But all she saw was a tired woman, paling and cracking under the pressure of the situation.

“But I’m so tired. Please, just five minutes.” The voice inside Wanda’s head didn’t belong to the woman in her lap, it was too quiet, too fragile. The whisper echoed in her head, Wanda let out a whimper as her bottom lip trembled; trying to stop herself from crying, trying to be strong for her (Y/N). She shook her head as tears fell, stroking the (H/C) locs in a soothing way. She sucked in a breath, reminding herself to stay strong.

“Respiră, dragostea mea,totul se va termina curand. Iti promit.” [Breathe my Love, everything will be over soon. I promise.]

The strangled cry that left the Sokovian’s mouth as she watched (Y/N)’s eyes flutter close, brought the attention of the group that were surrounding Damien’s battered and beaten body, pleading for the abuse to stop. The pleads stopped as a heeled foot came down hard on the man’s head. Natasha’s turned and immediately stopped when she saw Wanda’s arms wrapped around (Y/N)’s head, back hunched over protectively as she rocked back and forth, the Romanian was distorted by the sobs leaving her mouth.

“Wanda? What. What’s, I. Wanda?” The words came out mumbled and quiet as Natasha kneeled down and held (Y/N)’s blood covered hand in hers. The bruises on her body were developing quickly. He decorated his canvas, stripped her bare of clothes and humanity. Her face faltered for a moment; an internal conflict was battering her emotions, her heart was hammering rapidly against her ribs adding to the horrible gut feeling, however, her brain was standing still as emotions and signals were firing continuously and the instincts, she’d gained from her line of work were telling her to stay void and kill the fucker who did this to her. But she couldn’t come to terms with reality fast enough. Because next thing Natasha knew, her feet grazed the ground momentarily as someone lifted her and moved her to the side hastily. She blinked once, twice and the image in front of her was still disordered like the cable wasn’t plugged in properly. Image fuzzy, sound all warble.

Stomach curdling.

“Wanda, let go. Please, I need to get her to the car.” Tony’s voice didn’t waver as he held onto the witch’s shoulders. Shaking them slightly, as if to stop the chanting coming from the broken woman.

“Te rog, Wanda.” [Please Wanda]

Bucky’s voice held authority as his right hand gently wrapped around the witch’s waist and dragged her off the battered woman on the floor. Looking up at Tony; the solider nodded his head briefly, brunette locks flopped down to cover his eyes as he swiftly moved his head to rest atop of the sobbing ball in his arm.

Bucky’s and Wanda’s relationship has always been strong, it was bound to be as they’d all been through the hardship of Hydra’s suffocating grasp. They shared the same fear, shielded themselves away from the losses that was caused by the octopus symbol that haunted their life.

Experiments, torture, pain, death.

Loss.

Death.

Pain.

Loss.

Death.

It all repeated itself after a while, became normal. Even if they watched from the side-lines, it became their normal. Their life. And not once did they think twice, because all that caused was more misery.

His left arm came up to brush her hair soothingly as he mumbled softly to her. Only looking over his shoulder once to make sure (Y/N) was okay.

“Come kid. Hey Nat, call Cho tell her to set up shop in the lab immediately. And if she says she’s busy. Tell her I’ll get her that date with pointbreak.” Tony took Bucky’s leather jacket and carefully wrapped around (Y/N), then with delicate hands, his arms went under knees and the back of her shoulders as he lifted her up. He swayed slightly as the tequila from earlier said a quick hello.

One foot in front of the other, that’s all Tony thought about as he rushed down the darkened hallway, Natasha in front of him slightly on the phone to Doctor Helen Cho. Her voice was low and harsh as she briskly walked ahead, negotiating down the phone. His eyes narrowed slightly as a thought processed through his mind quickly.

“No.” But as soon as the small whimper left (Y/N) lips it faded away, his paced never slowed as he looked down at the woman in his arms. Her face was swelling, her lips cut and blood slowly creeping out of her mouth.

“Friday bring the cars round back please and tell the team. And get someone to pick up that piece of shit on the floor,” his request was met with a simple ‘Yes Sir’ as he continued down the never-ending hallway. He faltered when his brown eyes caught sight of Natasha reluctantly picking up the discarded white heel thrown carelessly to the side. They were (Y/N)’s; he was there as he watched her ogle them through the charity shop window. He’s the one who bought them for her. He’s the one who told her to wear them tonight.

 If he stopped now, he’d break.

So, his journey continued down the spiral staircase, his eyes met Happy’s through the crowd as his guard came to meet him by the staircase. With a nod shared between both men, they set out towards the back of the club. Not a single look was casted their way and it sent a shiver through Happy’s spine. If a man carrying an unconscious woman, or person, through the club isn’t strange, then how often does this sort of thing happen?

The fresh air caused the hair on everyone’s body to stand on edge, it was a massive change from sweaty hot bodies grinding upon each other to a cold and empty atmosphere. It brought a calming sensation through Stark’s mind. But his mind wasn’t at ease for long as the plague came back and rattled his body, squeezed his skull till it felt like it was suffocating his brain.

“Cho’s setting up shop as we speak, we need to go now. Bucky and Wilson said they’d meet us there. They just need to deal with trash control. Wanda’s finding Rogers and Barton is calling Fury as we speak.” The red head placed a hand on the older man’s shoulder giving it a gentle squeeze before letting it go as the sound of squealing tires breached their ears.

“Let’s go, she is getting cold.” His voice was hard, void of the usual sarcasm and teasing. The doors opened as the car came to a halt. Placing (Y/N) in the back seat, he laid her down gently placing her head on Natasha’s lap once she got in the other side. He closed the door, jaw clenched and the moment he turned he launched his foot forward and kicked over the trash can.

“Fuck!” His yell was loud and drowning in pain and guilt. His breathing came out in gasps as he tilted his head back and looked up at the clouded sky. Clogged with pollution, not a single star was seen.

He sharply turned and got into the car, muttering a simple ‘go’ too Happy in the driver seat. Head pushed back as they sped away from the club and to the compound. _______________

translation, with the help of my dear friend @primavera-allegoria 

(‘(Y/N) respira’ = (Y/N), breathe)

(Ray, sunt aici acum. Deschide-ti ochii = I’m here now open your eyes)

( Doare = it hurts)

( Respiră, dragostea mea totul se va termina curand. Iti promit.= Breathe my Love, everything will be over soon. I promise.)

( Te rog, Wanda = Please Wanda)

Yes!!! The obsession I have with this is out of this world 🎉

ego 08

summary⇢ what’s a girl to do when her sweet, innocent baby lab partner isn’t quite so sweet and innocent? well, he’s a grown-ass man, and you’re about to learn that the hard way. pairing⇢ jungkook/reader word count⇢ 8.5k rating⇢ 18+ genre⇢ smut | humor | college!au | fuckboi!au | fratboy!au warnings⇢ none really, except that everybody and they mama in they feelings 😩 BUCKLE UP 😈

a/n⇢ THIS CHAPTER KEPT GETTING LONGER AND LONGER AND I’M GOING INSANE so i’ve finally just decided to split it lmao. please take this part now and anticipate the (actual) last chapter a lot sooner than i got this one out since it’s already 80% written!!! 

this chapter’s mood is this. hope you enjoy 😩

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