This Shit Is Bussin. @firefly-graphics This Is Beautiful.

This shit is Bussin. @firefly-graphics this is beautiful.

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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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Homelander Dividers

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I’ll keep you safe.

05/10/21

Homelander X Innocent!Reader (female). 

This was request by the lovely @queenieheartsbitches​, they requested that I do Homelander x reader fic where the reader will be naïve and innocent. This Fic will have a dark tone to it so please read at your own risk. I am so sorry it took so long, but it is what it is. if you enjoy please leave a comment about what you liked and don’t be afraid to reblog and reach out for some requests of your own. 

Words: 2.4K

Summary: Homelander has the need to protect the last piece of innocence left in his life, keeping her away from the darkness that is Vought. He grew up with her in the labs that made him who he is today, yet they had completely different upbringings. But she is his, no matter what. 

Warnings: Dub/Con elements, language, menstrual cycle and blood, manipulation, mentions of violence, Homelander basically using the readers naivety against her. 

[Masterlist] - Part Two

1994

The first few years of (Y/N)’s life was spent in a glass box; fitted with a bed, table, and chair. If she wasn’t being tested on or testing her powers, they kept her in that box. Food was passed through a slot to the side of the door, she had a limited number of toys that were her only friends for a while. She named them Bricky and Blocky, they were two dolls that didn’t have faces. In fact, they didn’t have any defining features at all, but she was attached to the two toys like no mans business.

When she was eight, her best friend entered her life, she called them Doctor Brookes. The Doctor was a smoothed face woman in her late thirties, with high cheek bones and hooded-almond eyes, her thick black hair was always kept up in a neatly wrapped bun at the back of her head with a pen always sticking out of it at an angle. The moment (Y/N) met the Doctor she noticed how tall and slender the woman was, she found the doctor breathtakingly beautiful. But there was something dark behind the Doctor’s eyes that always made her take caution with the way she spoke and moved. But the Doctor was the greatest friend (Y/N) ever had. Next to John of course.

When (Y/N) was nine years and eleven days old she awoke to pain in her stomach and blood flowing from her thighs, she did the only thing she could think of and screamed. After the hysteria was over, Dr Brookes came to the glass box and sat her down on her lumpy bed and explained how her body was changing, but it was different.

“Your body is changing, you will turn into a woman, but you won’t be like every other woman out there (Y/N). Do you understand?” The red lipstick was captivating, (Y/N) watched her mouth move as the words poured out.

“All the test we have been doing are making you better and your body is finally healing. You will become powerful little warrior.”

‘Warrior, huh no ones ever called me that before,’ her mind was racing as she thought of the days and years to come.

“Will it hurt?” Her voice was timid as she clutch Bricky and Blocky to her chest, her little heart was starting to ache with how fast it was beating.

“Of course,’ the doctors hand was places delicately on (Y/N) warm cheek, ‘but you will power through it. Won’t you little one?” Brown eyes bored into (Y/N)’s and held her gaze with a look that left a chill to run down (Y/N)’s spine.

“Yes Doctor.” White teeth came into view as the Doctor’s red lips were pulled up into a smile. There was a twinkle in her almond-hooded eyes as she clapped her hands together before standing up from her crouched position in front of (Y/N).

The glass door opened suddenly, and Doctor Vogelbaum stepped through his white coat twisted at the back and ruffled. He cleared his throat and beckoned Doctor Brooke to come over, quite words were exchanged before they both glanced over to (Y/N).

“Is she ready?” The man stalked towards the little girl sat on the bed and crouched down to inspect her, Doctor Brooke said something to him but (Y/N)’s attention was on the coldness of his eyes. She winced when he harshly pinched her round cheek and squeezed.

“Good, she’ll be a wonderful weapon for Vought.” (Y/N) shook her head violently and protested, “Doctor Brooke said I’d be a warrior!” His mouth pulled into a snarl and his yellow teeth were barred together, the anger radiating from his face made (Y/N) pull Bricky and Blocky up to her face.

“You little girl,’ the dolls were ripped from (Y/N)’s grip,’ will be the weapon we made you to be, you can pretend you are a warrior, but you were made to be a weapon.” Doctor Vogelbaum turned and walked away ignoring the wailing from the little girl trapped in the glass box.

2019

“Can we go to the carnival later, I heard they had deep-fried chocolate bars.” His ridiculous cape blocked (Y/N)’s view of the TV screen. She sat, with her legs propped up on the glass table watching the trailer for Vought’s newest hero addition. But her vision got cut off when John came storming into the meeting room muttering about how ungrateful everyone was. As far as (Y/N) was concerned John wasn’t talking about her because she was always grateful, Doctor Brooke had taught her to always be grateful for what she had. No matter the circumstances. So, when John came in, tense and disturbed (Y/N) brought it upon herself to make the best thing in her life happy. And the carnival always made her heart fly.

“John,” her feet swung off the table and carried her to the Supe. His frame was tense, telling her all she needed to know, reaching out (Y/N) placed her hand on John’s bicep and gently stroked. Her effect on the man was visible even a blind man could sense the soft spot the legendary Homelander had for this woman.  The man in question deflated and mumbled a quite “fuck”.

(Y/N) tutted and lightly pinched the man, “watch your language J,” she trailed her hand downwards and swiftly turned the hunk of the man around until he was facing her, without question she wrapped her arms around his torso and nestled her face into his neck. After years of getting use to (Y/N)’s behaviour John still tensed when she pulled him into one of her loving hugs. He hesitated before wrapping his arms around her body, he wasn’t in the mind set for physical contact right now but that was him, the woman in his embrace was nothing like him.

Nothing.

He was raised in a lab, constantly being tested on and his only comfort was a blanket and the occasional faces he saw, that reminded him that he wasn’t forgotten. His mind was drilled and filled with war strategies and how to win people over, his mind was not filled with empathy or love and affection like most people. On the outside he was what everyone in America needed, he seemed like he had the life he wanted and the people, he showed the world how happy he was doing his job and how grateful he was to save the people of the US of A.

But on the inside, it was a whole fucking mess.

Letting out a deep sigh, John dropped his head on top of (Y/N)’s, letting her heart calm his racing mind. The scent of her was soothing, it strangely gave him a comfort of home. He lost himself to his thoughts as he stood there with her in his arm, hearts harmonising into a domestic beat. He slowly remembered how different they were, two completely different humans and yet they fit together so perfectly – he seems to think so anyway. He couldn’t bare to let her go, when he first met her the thing that stood out to him the most was how vulnerable she was. Standing with the smile of a god on her face, (E/C) eyes wide and brimming with innocence that he knew would disappear quickly if she befriended him.

But he was wrong, they had known each other for a long time, and she is still the same wide-eyed innocent motherfucker he met when he was young. He didn’t know if it was the way he was conditioned when he was younger, but his saviour complex was completely different when it came to (Y/N). To this day, he refuses to let Translucent anywhere near her, he made that mistake once and the rage he felt was other worldy and the pain he left Translucent in was something the sadist in him was extremely proud of.

“John?” her voice was muffled, and it almost went completely passed his ears, but he heard it and recognised the discomfort in her tone. He then realised that through his mindless wonder, he had subconsciously tightened his grip on her. Breathing a quick ‘sorry’ he let her go and watched curiously as she scanned his face. He knew what she was thinking, (Y/N) didn’t hide her emotions as well as she thought she did.

“What is the matter now?” her hand gently caressed his cheek, the smile on her face grew slightly as she felt John lean into it. She could feel the tense jawbone constrict and relax as he exhaled softly, she didn’t even blink when she felt John’s hands come down to rest on her hip. She was use to these administrations of affection, something that other people had a hard time wrapping their heads around. She never understood why. But she just guessed it was just down to the past these two shared, the lack of a parental figure – but it was more extreme in Johns case. Nevertheless, she still understood the crave for any kind of physical contact, the need to be heard and held.

“I just. It’s nothing my Dove. I just want to hold you.” And with that he brought is forehead down and rested it on top of hers, (Y/N) looked up through her eyelashes and observed how relaxed his face was, no hints of the stress or burden that were holding him down when he came in. It made her happy to see that he was able to relax when it came to her, it made her happy that he was able to fall apart and trust her enough to put him back together. She was suddenly distracted by the fingers that were tilting her chin upward, even more taken back by the lips that pressed gently onto her own. She pulled back and looked at the man in front of her, a warmth slowly caressed her cheeks.

“Sorry, you just shocked me a little you didn’t ask like you usually did.” Her eyes were cast downwards, watching the floor sparkle in the afternoon sun. (Y/N)’s eyes stayed down when those same fingers came back to tilt her face upwards.

“(Y/N), look at me.” (E/C) shot upwards meeting a breath taking blue, “I’m sorry I forgot, I just need you to make me feel better, is that okay?” the man asking the question watched as the woman in front of him bit her lip before nodding her head. Gently, he moved his thumb upwards and rolled her lips out from the torture of her teeth, and gently rubbed it. He smiled wolfishly when (Y/N)’s face took on a flustered look and she nodded her head slightly, a breathless whimper slipped past her lips as John gently surged forward and captured her lips again. He cupped her face and brought himself flush to her, every time he does it, he never gets over the taste of her – sweet and innocent.

(Y/N) had to suppress the noises threatening to slip past her lips as she brought her hands up to Johns chest, she couldn’t tell if her heart was beating so fast it was making her ears ring or if it was John who was having this effect on her. But either way she loved it.

She remembered the first time he kissed her, he had just come back from a taxing recon and he was pissed – excuse the bad language, she listened to him rant and rave about the incompetence of people and how no one understands the extent of his job. And after all that he still was tensed she could practically see the muscle damage through his posture, so she jumped onto him and hugged him with everything she had. She didn’t know how long they were stood there, but what she did know was that one second she’s hugging The Homelander-earths mightiest Super, and the next his hand is holding her cheek and his lips are planted on hers. John knew that was her first kiss, she quietly asked why he had done it, and he explained how she - (Y/N) (L/N) makes him feel happy, healthy, and so much better.

“I love how you make me feel like everything is going to be fine, and I need this. Don’t you want me to feel good?”

And she didn’t want to make him feel hurt, and since then whenever he needs her, she is there.

Always.

Because she loves him, as much as he loves her, and she is willing to give him everything he asks for and so much mor-

“Ms (L/N), I need to borrow Homelander for a minute.” The voice of Stillwell projected loudly into the vast room, making (Y/N) jump back in surprise. Her (E/C) eyes looked at the woman standing in the doorway, hands on her hips and face scowling at the scene in front of her. She didn’t know what it was but Madelyn never like the two of them together in the same room, (Y/N) knew if she had it her way Madelyn wouldn’t have the two of them on the same planet.

“I’ll see you later Dove,” with a quick kiss to the forehead (Y/N) watched as the man she was just kissing practically skip out of the door, with tears burning at the back of her eyes she turned around and sluggishly made her way back to the chair she was occupying moments ago.

Laying back, she looks back at the screen, still showcasing the show she was watching. But her mind was casted to the pair that had just left the room, she knew deep down in her stomach that something was going on between the two of them. But her heart couldn’t handle that. Rising her hand into the air she could see the red wisps dancing around her hand, moving her fingers slightly she watched as the sun started to dim and not long after the familiar rumble of thunder announced itself. She absentmindedly weaved her fingers around, her focus on the television, but her attention every now and then would listen to the calming storm raging outside the windows. The grey clouds encased the city below, the thunder clashed loudly in the air as rain fired down.

(Y/N) smiled slightly and closed her eyes, listening to the storm outside. She felt at peace as she waited for her John to come back, she felt at peace as the storm inside her slowly started to dissipate.

(Y/N) remembered the words of Doctor Brooke, and how right now she felt anything but a warrior. But she knew that as long as she had John, she will be okay.

Her

Chapter two: crimson

UD- 24th June 2021

Big Thank yo to my translator, @primavera-allegoria​ this story wouldn’t be completed or written if it wasn’t for you. So thank you.

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!! this chapter contains scenes some may find upsetting and disturbing read at your own risk.

Word Count- 4K+

If you have any question please ask, reviews are welcome let me know what I can approve on and what you like.

 [Masterlist]

 Chapter I-Forest : Chapter III-Hiraeth

 __

The rebuilding of stark Tower 2012

“You know Tony, I would love to find an apartment in New York, but I can’t leave a child by itself for more than an hour, legally” (E/C) eyes cast downwards at the plans of the new compound, (Y/N) refused to wipe the smirk off her face as she heard the dramatic intake of breath behind her.

“Are you calling me a child.” She could picture the look of disdain on his face, his mouth wide open in mock shock and hand on his Arc Reactor. (H/C) textured hair bounced around her shoulders as she shook her head in disbelief. She walked over to the large window that overlooked the rubble that once was New York.

Heaving a sigh, she wrapped her arms around her torso and clenched tightly, her eyes became glassy as she withheld the tears threatening to come down her face. Her mind was running too fast for her to keep up with, the thought of what she could have done circled her head in a taunting manner. ‘I could’ve saved people, children.’ The guilt was evident in her eyes but not on her face, no she hid that well.

“You knew it had to be done,” obviously not too well, “there would’ve been more damaged with you and Banner out there, chaos. And we can really only just about control Banner. I did it to keep you safe.” The remorse was clear on his tongue she just refused to listen.

“So, knocking me out with that heavy duty sedative was your best option? I felt like a piece of shit when you did that with no explanation Tony! And to mention the fact that you left me in my room without so much of a note, do you have any idea how scary it was to wake up to you falling out the fucking hole in the sky!” her face was contorted into a painful twist as she grew closer and closer to Tony, her index finger jutted out and repeatedly jab his arc reactor. The strength behind it surprised him and led to him placing his hand onto her shoulders in an attempt to calm her down.

The veins in her body started to hum a soft crimson, her eyes filled with tears as she gasped for air. She could feel her body starting to change, the heat building up begging to be released was a sign she needed to breathe.

“You and I both know that the consequence would’ve been too much for everyone to face given our current situation.” His voice was soft as if he were talking to a wounded animal; he caressed her elbow and brought her head to lay on his chest. The soft humming of his reactor brought comfort to her. (Y/N) thought back to the moment she locked eyes upon the figure of a falling Iron Man, she couldn’t put into words the emotions that coursed through her body as she watched him fall. The scream that left her mouth shook the whole room, yet it was unheard with all the chaos flying around the city.

“I know, I am just pissed off that’s all. You promised not to do that again,” her voice was petite, the vulnerability flowing off her in waves.

She pulled her head away from his chest and looked up at him, a smirk slowly making its way to her face; “And fuck you for not taking me to get some Shawarma.” She pulled herself away from him and punched him in the arm playfully. She laughed as she watches his mouth form an ‘O’ as he rubbed the pain away.

“That looked like it hurt Tony,” (Y/N) whipped her head around at the new voice and immediately relaxed once she saw it was Pepper, the strawberry blonde gave the other lady a hug on her way to Tony. They exchanged a few words before Pepper came back to (Y/N).

“I’m going back to Malibu for a few weeks, wanted to know if you wanted to come?” The woman held a look in her eyes that (Y/N) had seen before; pity, the fact that Pepper was the one to find (Y/N) in her room with the window smashed, the furniture broken and all over the place with her sat, stark naked in the middle of it all. Pepper saw the struggle clear on (Y/N)’s face when she stepped into the room. The pain. The horror. The ongoing battle within her as she tried to claw her way out of the disorientated state, she was in.

“I don’t know, I still have to do clean up here- “

“Don’t worry about it I’ve got it, go you deserve it Foss,” (Y/N) winced at the nickname and walked out the office. The two adults watched the head of (H/C) curls disappear into the mass of construction and working bodies.

“JARVIS pull up surveillance please, from her room.” Pepper’s voice was filled with an emotion that Tony couldn’t place. It didn’t matter the moment the wall in front of them filled up with an image of (Y/N)’s form sleeping in the bed.

His face showed the confusion on his face as he looked at the surveillance footage- “why am I watching (Y/N) sleep Pep?”- his eyebrows screwed together as he looked from her freckle covered face to the video.

“Just watch.” Her voice held authority that Stark did not question.

The tape speed forward for a moment, the images past quickly from her getting up and looking around the room in confusion, to her trying to open the door, to then turning around and seeing the Chitauri flying around outside her large window. She tries the door handle one last time before slowly walking to the window. Hands on it as she surveys the scene unravelling in front of her.

“Pepper?” Tony’s voice is full of question as he watches the tape pick up speed again to the moment (Y/N) catches him falling out of the sky. The veins in her body starts to pulse a deep crimson as she slams her fist against the window in anguish.

It happens to quickly that Tony orders Jarvis to rewind and slow down the tape. Pepper takes a seat on the raised platform surrounding them and places her head in her hands.

But he doesn’t notice; he’s got his eyes focused on the image of (Y/N) hunched over in pain as her body starts to become overwhelmed in light as she screams in fear, the room starts to shake. A crack forms on the window, then one crack turns into five and then five turn into hundreds of spider webs turning the triple-glazed-Tony-Stark proof window into shards that fly across the room and fall onto the people outside. The clothes burn off as her body becomes too hot, all the pent-up energy finally being released. Crimson ribbons start to flutter around her body creating a circle that envelopes her trembling body as she hunched over in pain, the furniture in the room starts to shake as it lifted off the ground and hovers in the air.

All of a sudden, the ribbons that were once dancing around her erupted outwards as her upper body was flung upwards and a silent scream left her body. Everything broke; the bed, the table, the desk, and the walls dented.

She falls to the floor quickly, her head bounces from the immediate impact. The tape fast forwards again, and throughout her body doesn’t stop glowing, humming softly as it heals itself of self-inflicted injuries. The tapes stops suddenly to (Y/N) waking up; she arches of the ground and whips her head back and forth trying to grasp onto the perplexing situation at hand. But the confusion plastered on her face is clear as glass. A shard of bright light appears in the corner of the video before slowly becoming wider, drowning the dark and bleak room in artificial light.

(Y/N)’s face turns slowly to the figure in the doorway, a series of emotions flash across her face as she tries to understand everything, anything at all.

“Tony?” The plead fell on death ears as the 176 second clip was rewound and replayed over and over again; the already clenched jaw became slack before tensing again. His forehead creased in anguish as the image of the vulnerable woman stained is mind.

“Tony?” He exhaled violently through his nostrils before hanging is head low, he screwed his eyes shut and counted to ten in his head.

‘You fucked up’

‘Again’

“I…I promised her, I’d protect her and let nothing happen to her again Pep. I promised.” His voice meagre as he inhaled deeply trying to ignore the quaking of his lungs. He looked up at the paused video, millions of thoughts swarming his already distressed head. Taking a step back he cleared his throat.

“Jarvis.”

“Yes Sir?”

“Delete the footage, erase it.”

“Permanently sir?”

“Yes”

“And what of the Bedroom Sir?”

“What bedroom Jarvis?”

“Of course, sir.”

He looked to his left at the strawberry blonde, sat calmly watching his body, waiting for it to crumple. She was reading him like always but this time she couldn’t quite understand the writing on the pages, it kept shifting from one thing to another.

“We don’t speak of this Pepper, she doesn’t remember the surge, she just remembers waking up and seeing me fall, and that is as good as it gets,” his voice was low, a whisper of a whisper. His dark brown eyes met her blue in a silent agreement.

An agreement to protect what could destroy everything. And nothing at the same time.

“Jarvis?” He raised his eyebrows at nothing waiting patiently for the response.

“You were never here sir.”

With a nod he turned and left, never looking back as he marched to find something to preoccupy his mind from combustion.

Silence met Pepper’s ears for a few minutes before the silence was filled with a small sniffle, wiping her hand underneath her nose she looked up to the ceiling blinking a few times to calm herself. She needs to control herself for her sake. Before she screams.

Nodding to no one she gets up.

Smooths out her skirt.

And leaves.

March 14th, 2015

Medical bay, New Avengers Compound, Upstate New York.

“We had to heavily sedate her so there would be no chance of a surge of any kind like you suggested Tony, her body is damaged though. He put some kind of poison in her system that is unnatural.”

His heart stuttered as he listened to the Doctor speak, ‘unnatural, what does she mean?’.

“I tested it and I couldn’t find any kind of natural compound in the substance I extracted from her blood, I don’t think it was her body trying to decompose it if that is what you’re thinking because whatever they put in her, it’s. I’m so sorry Tony,”

His heart became erratic the sound became claustrophobic, ‘what does she mean she’s sorry?’.

“It’s aim was to halt her reaction, the deadly kind so they could do something, but it did more than that Tony, it’s made her weak. She’s broken and I don’t know how to fix her.”

His heart burst, the pain was so great it became numb, it was so great he saw black spots as his vision swam, it was so great he forgot that the team was down the hall.

It was so great that he screamed.

His heart and lungs felt heavy as he forced in air to stop him from falling, he looked up at Cho and grabbed her by the shoulders, he looked into her fear painted eyes and begged, pleaded with her to stop lying.

“Tony, there is nothing I can do, it’s all up to her biology now. My machines can’t fix her, they’d kill her or make it worse. I’m sorry.” She placed a consoling hand on his cheek, a mockery to him as the apology felt empty, scares of emotion.

His eye landed on the shell of a human, his (Y/N) laid there motionless, mindless, and uncomfortably beautiful. Her dark complexion paling and lifeless.

His stomach felt twisted as he dragged in a broken breath, it settled uncomfortably within him as he continued to stare at the woman he has known since 23, he could remember the way the dimly lit dinner made her eyes shine so brightly with pain. He felt at peace for a moment when he saw the conflict flitter across her face as he drunkenly plonked down opposite her in the sticky leather booth.

They related to each other on so many levels without a word spoken, the loss and torment they both endured was what helped them come together. But their undying love and friendship was what kept them together.

The beeping became unbearable, it mocked him with the intensity of it obnoxiously loud beep. He gritted his teeth and looked down at the monitor, it looked clean and untouched, beautifully innocent for a machine.

Unlike her, lying in that bed covered in swells, darkened colours and bumps, a majestic art-piece for the psychopaths of the world.

The rhythm of the beeping was fast, it sounded like the machine was running out of breath to keep up with her heart rate. He spent years trying to keep up with her, yet this was the closet he’d been to see her so…peaceful.

“Heal for me,” he gasped out as the tears finally dripped down his face. Placing a delicate kiss on her forehead he turned and walked out the room – if he started any longer at her he would do something; he didn’t know what yet, but it wouldn’t be good.

His footsteps echoed viscously in the hallway as he marched down towards the group of heroes sat in the living room; waiting, begging, pleading that she would be okay. They better pray some more.

Natasha was the first to see Tony enter the room, she kept quiet and just watched him, standing there- catatonic. Her eyes followed the figure as it went towards the island that separated the living room from the kitchen. Those eyes were swimming in tears as they watched Tony hunch over the island, his shoulders wide and stiff as he started hard at the marble countertop.

“Tony?” Eyes snapped to the red head that asked the question, then followed her line of sight to the billionaire that looked too quiet. No one moved as the man in question looked up to meet the questioning gaze of his teammate. No one moved as he turned his back towards everyone.

But everyone flinched when the figure lurched forward and grabbed the flowerpot off the stand and throw it across the room, next were the plates and decorations on the island, they flew across the room and landed in a million pieces.

Chairs, books, spoons, and pots danced in the air and crashed onto the floor.

It went on for minutes, the display of vulnerability became too much for Tony as he stopped and looked at the mess he made, back facing the team, he looked down the corridor he came from minutes ago. It was littered with piece of broken porcelain and china.

His face remained stoic as an image of (Y/N) appeared in front of him, broken and shattered in a million pieces, too many for him to put back together.

He couldn’t fix her. No one could.

He turned to the team, “I want background on the man that did this, everything. I want no place let untouched you hear me?” the silence answered his question. He looked at his team- “Where the fuck is Rogers?”

Bucky looked at Sam and then at Natasha. They exchanged a conversation that Tony was too tired to pick up on.

“He left with K-” Nat shot the solider a look before standing up and placing a hand on Tony’s shoulder.

“He left with her, before any of this went down. He doesn’t know.” Her perfectly arched eyebrows came together as she observed the conflict smothering Tony’s face.

With a nod the billionaire rubbed Natasha’s hand and walked away to his room not uttering another word.

But everyone felt the pressure he left behind, the severity of the situation weighed heavily on their shoulders as they all, one by one, slowly got up and put their plan into action.

But their eyes were all focused on the corridor Tony had come from, because at the end of it lay their friend and teammate fighting for her life.

March 15th 13:41pm, Downtown New York

 Steve Rogers is a man of many things, loyalty and honesty is just some of them. But ever since he woke up in a different century his views have changed, not drastically but the influence of a few certain men and women can do a lot to a man.

But it wasn’t just those people that caused his views to change slightly, it was the way the world changed, the way the people changed and their views on the world. How women walked around covered in tattoos and piercing, some women walking around in barley anything.

How men no longer seemed to show women respect, grabbing them when they see fit, how the world had forgotten about all the lives lost during the war.

All his friends.

Within the first month of him awakening from the ice he had hopes that some of his past was able to hold out, anything and within minutes of that thought crossing his mind reality slapped him hard in his perfect face. Everything he knew was either changed or gone and that was that, no bullshit. And he was kind of glad about that, he knew he had to figure out what to do and he need that distraction, any distraction would be welcomed with opened arms.

After the attack of New York, he made it a priority to learn about what he missed and gain new skills, cooking being one of them. And he did, he prided himself on that, all the new skills he learnt being able to use the tablets and phone that are interactive and portable, learning that things taste so much better when there not boiled. And that he really, really feels out of place.

Although Stark offered to house him in his tower after the attack of New York, he declined. He found comfort in the separation between work and, and he didn’t really have a life outside of being Captain America. He didn’t have anything because everything in that apartment was already there when he moved in, including the food.

He worked his frustration out in the gym not far from where he lived. The same place Nick Fury asked for his helped, where he found his purpose again. But he still felt empty. So, he did what any sane person would do.

He talked to Natasha.

Now Steve Rogers is a man of simple things, he finds happiness in other people’s happiness, find love in the fact that the world is safe from the biggest threat from his time.

“You need to get laid Rogers. Simple.”

What does a man like Steve Rogers say to that, he wasn’t exactly what you would call experienced or a natural in that area of ‘expertise’, Hell he’s never seen a woman naked before let alone touch a woman with that intent. But the more Natasha explained it the more it made sense to him, the feeling of not knowing what he needs, feeling empty.

So, he tried it.

A lot.

Steve Rogers is a man of many things, honesty, sexual prowess, and loyalty are just a some of those things that have made him the man he is today, the very same man who is waking up in a bed coated in the scent of apples and cinnamon and a sprinkling of sweat covering his back.  

“Turn it off,” the scent was intoxicating, so homely and warm. It reminded him of his mother’s apple pie. The way she sang as she made one once they got home from church, the love that went into a single slice made his heart grow with warmth. The scent was accompanied by the beeping that was increasingly getting louder and quicker not to mention slightly irritating.

“Turn it off,” a hand slapped him haphazardly on the shoulder as he cracked open an eye to look at the flashing red numbers that read 13:42. The numbers kept flashing in a sequence, they mean nothing to him just random flashing numbers. He wondered if he kept staring at them then maybe they’d start to say something to him.

Suddenly a hand came slithering past his head to push a button on top of the cubed alarm-clock. Bright red nail-polish was decorating the long nails perfectly, the manicured hands attached to the slender arm wrapped around his shoulders and a hot kiss was placed on his left shoulder.

He lost himself in the tingle that covered his back; the goosebumps that enveloped him in a warm embrace, he was happy this morning in his own little world. The nails gently ran down his abdomen and danced around his belly button. The chills sent a smile to his face.

Turning around his eyes swept across the face of the woman that lay beside him with her leg draped carelessly over his hip. The storm in her eyes became more apparent as the sun draped its warm caresses over their laying figures. The (E/C) was like liquid heaven, whispering to him to come take a swim.

“You want pancakes or something else?” Emerald green. Her eyes were emerald green not (E/C).

‘What are you doing?’

“Steve? Are you awake in there?” his eye flickered up to meet hers; a smile was plastered over her face, her lips looked dry from the amount of alcohol she consumed last night. She giggled and rolled over, so she was sat on the edge of the bed, stretching she reached forward to grab his shirt that was hanging off the edge of the bedside table. Slipping it on she pranced out of the door and disappeared.

“Fuck.”

Sitting up he looked over the bedroom that was covered in personal effects including the lace violent panties she wore last night. The room smelled of sex and a fruity perfume that hurt his head, last night it made his head flutter but right now it burnt his nostrils with how pungent it was. He grabbed his boxers lying next to his feet and pulled them on before walking out of the bedroom and into the open-planned living, kitchen area.

His eyes were drawn to the blue fabric swishing back and forth on the small figure at the island, her hair was up in a messy bun, strands sticking out everywhere as she bopped her head back and forth. Flour was smudge on her thigh and on the back of her neck; she looked over her shoulder at the sound of him sitting down at the island. He smiled back and just watched her. He felt calm this morning, he didn’t know what it was, but he felt oddly calm.

 “You want a smoothie with it as well baby?” He just hummed, too busy watching his hands fiddle with the small Vibranium bracelet that always adorned his wrist. It was given to him on Christmas three years ago when the team did secret Santa, it took a small amount of explaining for him to understand what it was.

It was a small navy-blue plush box wearing a black ribbon tie, the letter just said ‘I noticed the ones you buy keep breaking, this unbreakable like my bond with you x’ he had a hunch about who it was from and the look of surprise on (Y/N)’s face told him, it had been on his left wrist ever since.

His thumb and forefinger rubbed the links subconsciously as he thought about (Y/N)’s words last night, how the emotion on her face looked raw and deep, he was perplexed by her to say the least. He knew about her, but he didn’t know her, and god did he want to. It seemed that she kept him at an arms distance compared to everyone else, at first, he thought it was Tony’s influence but then he saw that she had Stark wrapped around her finger. He then concluded that it was him, he was the reason she didn’t trust Steven Grant Rogers.

She trusted Captain America, when they were both on the field, she trusted him. But the moment he put the persona away and the shield down, she was back to keeping him at a distance.

“Your phones ringing.” He looked up at the sound of her voice and watched as she pointed to his phone charging on the coffee table on the side of the couch.

He numbly walked over and unplugged the phone but was a second too late to accept the call. She never called him, she never really said anything to him outside of work except a goodbye and a hello. His mind was racing as he selected redial and placed his phone to his ear as he turned around and walked back over to the island.

“It was Buck,” his husky voice drifted through the air, he nodded his head as the red smoothie was placed in front of him. Placing a kiss on the top her head he muttered a thank you as she walked past heading to sit down to eat her food.

“Thank fuck Rogers, I’ve been trying to call you all night.” He scoffed at the tone he was greeted with.

“Good morning to you to sunshine, I was a bit busy last night punk.” He smiled over his glass as he heard the clattering of a fork behind him.

“I need you in here right now Steve.” He chugged down the rest of his smoothie and sucked in a breath. He booked the weekend off, if it was an emergency, they knew the protocol.

“I’m off all weekend punk, you know this. If this is about the unfinished paperwork hand it to (Y/N), she knows the detail, she can finish them for me.” He heard silence on the other end of the phone, he called out Bucky’s name thinking the line went dead but him clearing his throat told him that he was silent for another reason.

“She can’t do that right now Steve, she’s down. Someone got to her.”

The thick glass in his hands shattered, breaking into tiny shards. Cutting his hands and his heart.

______

Taglist;

@vicmc624

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