#i imagine the photographer's face during those shots

[yamysunmoon]

Princess's reward

Summary: You've been Jenna's lover for a few months now. You meet in hotel rooms whenever you can. Jenna is promoting her latest projects in Venice when you decide to pay her a visit.

Words count: 5-6k

Warnings: MDNI +18, d/s dynamic, sub! Jenna, stone top Y/N, choking, clothed sex, dirty talk, crying during sex (a little tear), praise kink, kinda bratty.

n/a: Verbal consent. First one shot in tumblr and english is not my first language :) hope you enjoy!

You were scrolling distractedly through social media when a notification popped on your screen. Jenna had posted photos.

More than Jenna herself, her team, you thought. Even so, you clicked immediately with a slight tension of anticipation growing in the lower part of your belly.

You watched each photograph closely. Jenna posing on that red carpet in that red dress. Her lips, also bright red, the wavy lines that traced her hair, her bangs forming a beautiful arc over her forehead. Her smooth and delicate skin, her mouth displaying that perfect and relaxed smile, those adorable dimples. You kept zooming in on each photograph when a new notification arrived. She had posted another update.

A smile was now forming on your lips. Jenna drinking coffee with those sunglasses and that t-shirt and that pose and those jeans. You remembered those photos perfectly. She had sent them to you the day before.

You sighed, looking out the airplane window. Glacing at your vintage silver wristwatch you noticed there were only 20 minutes left to reach Venice. Unable to resist the temptation, you opened your messaging app.

Hey my dear, barely 20 minutes to get to the airport.

Saw the instagram pictures btw. That dress suits you perfectly, you look beautiful.

She should still be at the interview she had told you about hours earlier, you guessed. She had sent you her full schedule as soon as she got to Venice, days ago. You loved it when she gave you all the information you needed to know where she was, and when, without even have to ask for it. Her complience made you go nuts sometimes.

You could imagine how tired she must already be, with it barely being 10 in the morning. She had been going back and forth for days promoting her new projects, attending interviews and public events of various kinds. You recalled in your mind her voice over the phone the night before, the way her raspy voice spoke to you, whispering how much she missed you and how little she could bear it. You had been waiting for this moment for weeks.

You were surprised when a vibration on your cell phone snapped you out of your thoughts.

Jenna: hey my love. Charlize will pick you up as we agreed. I think I'll be able to make it to the hotel on time. I can't wait to see you.

A sly smile graced your face. The first few times you two started texting, you were insecure about Jenna's style of writing. No emoticons, dry expressions and full stops. You soon learned a lot of things about her tho.

When she's at work and finds a few minutes to be able to text you -she makes that time to text you-, she doesn't even realize she sounds so "serious".

But then, when the nighttime comes and after taking a long bath, with her bathrobe still covering her body, she calls you, asks you animatedly how your day has been and reminds you how much she wants you, all doubts dissipate.

You decided not to reply to that message to heighten the anticipation. However, even though you were able to control yourself in action, your mind could not do the same and began to recall your previous encounters. The first time you met in that private area of one of the most exclusive clubs in L. A., when Charlize, her most trusted bodyguard, picked you up a few streets over and took you to her. How she waited for you with her legs crossed and those black stilettos, and one of her irresistible black suits.

Memories of that first night began to play out in your head without any censorship. Her sideways smiles as she teased you, the way her cheeks took on a light pale pink with the hints you murmured near her ear so she could hear you over the music. The way her nails grazed your arm for the first time, to, hours later, scratch you all over.

Her eyes, oh, her coffee brown eyes. Steaming, hot brown coffee. Chocolate eyes melting, dripping all over your body, ogling every nook and cranny and every detail they could absorb. She was looking at you in a way that you had never been looked at before.

"I'm starting to want you more than I can handle" she had whispered to you, after a couple of cocktails and too many leers. She had moved dangerously close to your ear to utter those words, then pulled away just enough to look deep into your eyes, raising her eyebrows slightly, looking down at you. A gaze that suggested some desperation and a lot of willingness to be blown away.

You then realized she was handing the power over to you. She was letting you decide if you were ready to commit to this madness with her. Things had changed since that night, but back then she was proposing that night. That's all you had: one night.

You plopped down on the headrest of your comfortable seat in the VIP area of the plane in the same way you had settled that night, months ago, on the pillows of her bed. The sensation of her warm body on yours invaded all your senses. Her legs around your torso, her hands on the back of your neck. Your hands caressing her tummy, then going from her upper back to her shoulder blades. One hand going up to her nape, pushing her to your lips. The other groping the elastic of her suit pants, asking for permission. You remembered perfectly her whisper, barely a strand of voice leaving her red, maroon lips.

"You can do whatever you want to me".

You smiled mischievously and opened your eyes, shaking your head. It wasn't really "whatever you wanted," but rather what the two of you had agreed upon in endless conversations before you started seeing eachother.

Meeting people backstage in the celebrity world had never suited you as well as when you got to meet her. A few minutes backstage at a random event, which led to following each other on Instagram, which led to getting her number, which led to intimate messages late at night.

Conversations about power, control, and seduction. You told her about submission. She started by joking about it, saying that she could never let anyone have that kind of dominance over her. She went on to say that maybe you could. She ended by asking you to accept hers.

You continued to learn about the d/s dynamic together, and agreed on initial boundaries and desires. Promises of what you could do to her, and be for her. Of the way you could put her mind and body at ease. Of the way you could set her free. And that night, in that LA hotel, you put them into practice. And boy, did you both like it.

Now you looked out the window and noticed that the hard concrete of the landing zone was getting closer and closer. You couldn't suppress a shiver that ran through your whole body, you didn't know if it was caused by the imminent landing or the imminent encounter with your precious submissive. Deep down you knew.

You walked through the front door of the hotel without any problem. The few people who should know you could pass knew that. Everything was handled as subtly as possible, protecting the privacy of the person they worked for, following her orders.

You were presented with stairs covered with a beautifully red carpeted floor. You climbed them on your way to the elevators that could be seen at the back of the entrance. One of them opened and Winona Ryder stepped out. You crossed paths but only dared to give her a brief smile, without looking directly at her. Had Jenna told her about you? You weren't used to running into celebrities from time to time. Charlize stood next to you.

“Surprised, huh?”

“She's a legend,” you said in a whisper of restrained excitement. She chuckled under her breath. She walked you to the open elevator and pressed buttons 4 and 5.

“You get off at 5. Room 513. She arrived about 15 minutes ago” she reported looking at her wristwatch. You nodded. There wasn't much more to say.

You could have engaged her in friendly conversation, but you could only watch the elevator screen indicating how you were getting on. Silently. This always happened to you; you were in that moment before you saw her in which your thoughts, actions and behavior were all directed towards her.

The doors opened on the fourth floor and Charlize said goodbye to you with a brief bow, you nodded in farewell. The doors closed and you felt yourself ascending a few more feet. Ascending towards your personal Heaven.

You stepped out of the elevator at a steady pace. You felt the weight of your whole body on your black military boots, you felt the skin rubbing against each garment you were wearing. You readjusted your watch, the one she had given you, and repositioned the necklace you were wearing, also a gift from her. Maybe she was your submissive, but you were her property.

“513” the plaque read. You gulped and touched up your hair, which you wore loose. One more shaky breath before you knocked softly on the door. Two sure knocks, as always.

“Come in” you heard from inside. Oh, that voice. You turned the doorknob without any hesitation.

You found yourself in a spacious room. The floor was covered with the same red carpet that protected the entire floor of the hotel. To your right, large windows lit up the room, but someone had already covered them with thick, translucent white curtains. In front was the king sized bed with an ornate wooden headboard. The room was chaste and classically decorated, in the most typical Viennese style.

It didn't take you long to notice that just before the bed someone had placed a low table that probably wasn't meant to be there. On it various plates with fresh fruit, freshly baked croissants and macarons in various pastel shades.

From your left you heard the sound of water running. You approached. To the right was a dressing room, and to the left was the door leading to the bathroom. A half-open door separated you from your girl.

“Babe, can i come in?”

“No!” she reacted instantly. “Give me a few minutes” the sound water running ceased. ”Go eat something, I got it for you.”

“Okay milady” you replied teasingly, earning a short sardonic laugh from her. She would always need to be fully prepared before seeing you, everytime to met. You found it really cute, yet kinda incomprehensible.

You would remind her that you had already seen her without all of that, without being THE Jenna Ortega, but simply Jenna, she would just smile shyly and confess that she wanted to be perfect for you. “At least before you ruin me completely” she used to add.

You went back to the master bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. You smiled as you realized that Jenna had wanted to place the table as close to the bed as possible. You both knew brunch wouldn't last long.

You had caught quite a few planes for her lately, and she always greeted you with a big feast of her own preparation. You decided to grab a fresh strawberry from the fruit platter, feeling its juices expand in your mouth. You wanted to have the perfect taste when Jenna came out of that bathroom.

Strolling your gaze around the suite, you noticed a scarlet red suit folded on a chair, along with underwear and black platform heels resting next to it. You didn't have time to discover much more before you heard the door open. A broad smile appeared on your lips as soon as you saw her.

She was wearing a black and red plaid corset and matching skirt. Her hair fell straight and shiny over her shoulders, and a deep red lipstick highlighted her lips. She looked at you with those dark eyes, adorned with a subtle touch of eyeliner and mascara.

“Sorry babe, you know i don't usually keep you waiting”. Finally, her voice came directly to your ears, without having to go miles from cell phone to cell phone.

Your eyes sparkled. "This time I'll give it to you," you conceded, assuming that slightly permissive role she liked so much on occasions like that. Your rules were strict but you both got a kick out of cheating from time to time.

You remained motionless as he approached you. Only a small twinkle in her eyes gave her away. She came closer until she was standing in front of you and your hands were resting on the bed. You looked down at her. She looked back at you and smiled showing those beautiful teeth.

An almost imperceptible nod from her gave you permission to wrap your arms around her waist in a needy embrace. You rested your head on her abdomen and it wasn't long before you noticed her hands stroking your silky hair.

“Ugh... how I've missed you” you confessed against the fabric. Your choked voice rumbling against her gut. She breathed in deeply in a way you interpreted as relief. You heard the air rush into her body.

“You're finally here” she sounded calm, peaceful. At ease.

You lifted your head and rested your chin on her belly. With your hands you caressed her lower back. She looked down at you from above and smiled. “You look incredible” you spoke softly, as if you wanted to prevent anyone from overhearing you.

Everyone, literally the whole universe knows that Jenna Ortega is gorgeous and looks amazing, but no one was lucky enough to contemplate her as you were at that moment.

“That's why I like to get ready before seeing you,” she said insightfully. You smiled slightly and your hands descended to her ass, which you squeezed gently. She gasped and closed her eyes. Involuntarily she moved her hips towards you. You rested your forehead on her skirt and breathed in her scent. That expensive and elegant perfume mixed with her own scent emanating from her skin....

“Let's eat something” she proposed pulling away from you abruptly and sitting down next to you. You blinked several times and looked at her. She was smiling flirtatiously. She loved to keep you waiting.

She decided on one of the freshly made croissants and that's when she saw the bitten strawberry on the table. She rose her gaze back at you. “Are they yummy?” she then noticed your lips, reddened by the juice of the fruit.

“Try it yourself” you challenged her. She raised her eyebrows. She seemed to hesitate for a few seconds during which she alternated looking into your eyes and at your lips. She half-opened her own, surely imagining your taste in those moments. Finally, she took a bite of her croissant and chewed slowly. Then she offered you a piece. “Try this and I'll try the strawberries” she resolved. Captivated by her charm, you laughed at her joke and agreed.

You switched the sour taste of the red fruit and the enveloping sweetness of the croissants with a relaxed conversation. She asked how your flight went and wanted to know more about everything that had happened to you in the previous days. Every evening you talked on the phone but she was usually too tired to pick up specifics. Then you asked her about the interview, which had been with Winona and you also talked a bit about her.

You loved the way her eyes sparkled in admiration of her partner. She kept yapping about her co-workers and the movies they both liked, smiling sideways when she remembered funny anecdotes on set, frowned adorably when reminiscing about confusing and amusing moments and she giggled softly when you blurted out wry and witty remarks.

You were drawn towards her. Everything she did seemed appealing to you. Every move, every gaze, every smile. The way she gestured with her hands, how she crossed and uncrossed her legs, how she tilted her head, and how she scrunched her nose. The freckles that dotted her cheekbones and the bridge of her nose called to you, it was urgent to kiss them. She kept talking but your attention had reached its limit.

Suddenly she stopped and looked at you. A teasing smile decorated her appetizing lips. “What are you doing so close?” she inquired curiously, looking you up and down. You then realized how close you have got without even thinking it through. It was quite literally that you were drawn towards her. Like the Earth is drawn towards the Sun.

You let out an airy laugh. “I didn't even realized” you confessed amused, running your gaze over her torso. That damn corset was distracting you. She smiled sideways, revealing a lovely dimple. God, Jenna and her dimples.

You watched every detail of her face closely before finally looking into her eyes. You were getting closer and closer. Yet she wasn't moving an inch. There was nothing she liked more than to tease you until you took the initiative. There was nothing she liked more than to show herself completely ready for you. Waiting for you.

After a few torturous seconds that felt like forever, Jenna looked at your lips. She licked her lower lip lightly, and the warm pink of her tongue contrasted with the maroon of her lips. Her gaze returned to yours, locked together.

And finally, a slight, very slight nod subtly ruffled the strands of her bangs. You gasped. You had permission. You couldn't wait any longer.

You ended the distance between the both of you and drew her closer by resting your hand on the back of her neck and pulling her in a demanding gesture until your lips met at last. You made a superhuman effort to stifle a moan of satisfaction. She, however, did not hold back and let it out, free, from between her teeth, as her lips parted allowing your tongue to conquer her mouth.

You engaged in a wet, perfectly pulsating kiss. Your kiss swayed between a sweet, rhythmic softness and an anxious, slightly desperate depth. Jenna pulled her body closer to yours and placed her hands on your abdomen, pulling your shirt towards her. She needed you, she needed you badly, but you wouldn't touch her until she begged.

You kept kissing her, wanting to express the latter with your lips, and she was quick to get the message. You could feel the trembling in her hands gripping your shirt, and your bodies were so close that you could feel her thighs coming together and parting just enough, in an urgent gesture.

Your breaths were quickening, so you slowed down the kiss. Your tongues caressed each other and she relaxed her whole body, welcoming you into her mouth, letting you take control. Your hand was still on the back of her neck, guiding her and turning her head slightly at your whim. She kept tugging at your shirt, tugging at you. She wanted you all over her.

Her breathing kept quickening even though your gestures were slow. You kept each other at bay. She would decide the starting gun, but nothing else would happen unless you dictated it. You were kissing her lips carefully when she parted only a few millimeters.

The look she gave you seemed even sad. “Y/N. Please. I beg of you. I want you so much i'm about to cry.”

Her eyebrows rose through the thickest area in an almost pathetic gesture of desperation. Her eyes were watery, dulling her already smoldering brown gaze. The brown of her iris was actually darker at that moment, like a beautiful pyrope stone.

You were lost in her gaze as she alternated looking at you in one eye and the other, in silent questioning. Her lower lip trembled with frustration. You almost felt sorry for her, how much she wanted you.

“Can I take you, then?” you asked at last, controlling the tremor in your voice admirably. You were dying for her too, but you had to show temperance for both your sakes. You were the one who held you both as you fell into the void. You had to be. She had to be able to fall into you. And there was nothing you longed for more.

She nodded fervently. You raised an eyebrow and lowered your head slightly in a serious gesture. “Are you capable of handling me?” you inquired insistently. Her hands, which had remained loyally attached to your shirt, ascended to your shoulders. You glanced sideways at them before looking at her again.

“I am ready to have you” she assured in a sentencing tone.

You looked into each other's eyes and found it. That look in her iris. That way in which, paradoxical as it seemed, she was able to demand that you possess her. Her way of offering you her submission, in the most dominant way.

It was as if time stopped for a few seconds before you pounced on her like a predator on its prey. Your hands traveled to her waist lifting her up and carrying her to the bed as your tongues met again.

You held her firmly and carefully, but dropped her onto the mattress allowing her body to crash against it. Her eyes widened in a gesture somewhere between surprise and excitement. In the process of the fall she was forced to release her grip on your shoulders, and now her hands held her on her palms. You watched her as you kneeled on the bed. She placed her legs on the sides of your body, tilted her head and raised an eyebrow delightfully. She smiled showing her teeth a little.

There was something so romantic about her submission to you. The way she surrendered not just her body but her whole being to you. The way her eyes looked at you, through you, not just with lust but with complete trust.

You would do anything for her.

You crawled up to her and kissed her again, slowly. She lifted her hips toward your body. You put a hand on her waist and pushed her back on the mattress, firmly. She stifled a moan into your mouth. She finally agreed to lie down and you directed both hands to the belt of her skirt. She put a hand on your chest, you stopped instantly in anticipation of some boundary. Instead, she parted just enough to look at you. “Maybe that's not necessary” she suggested in a seductive smile.

You scrutinized explanation in her gaze with a frown, confused. She lowered her gaze to her skirt in response. Could it be...?

With your hands you descended to her thighs, which you squeezed, and went upwards. She raised her knees, bent her legs, and spread them. You looked at her as your hands slipped under her skirt. You stifled a deep sigh as you found her luscious wetness already bathing her labia majora and even a bit of her groin. No panties. You pulled one hand out to grab her neck in a passionate kiss, while the other yielded to her charms and began to give her exactly what she needed.

“Baby, how wet you are...” you praised between kisses. You kept holding her neck in a solid gesture and she placed her hand over yours. You squeezed lightly, fulfilling her silent wish. The cold metal of your watch contrasted with her warm skin.

“All because of you. Its-for y-you. My beloved” she admitted worshipping you with that hard, wet look. Your massage on her cunt deepened.

“Do you respect me so much? Are you so obedient?"

She nodded and pressed your hand. You squeezed a little tighter, testing her limits. You weren't kissing her now, she needed to breathe. You both knew that if you kissed her the air could barely cross her throat, and yet she raised her head, longing for your lips on her.

You kept looking at her, waiting for something more. Your hand was still working under her skirt and her hips followed your rhythm with gusto. Was there anything she wouldn't do for you?

“I want...” you began, and your thumb ran along her cheekbone, her smooth skin. She watched your lips listening to every word you uttered. “I want you to touch yourself. I want to see how much you want me in you. You have to earn it.”

Her lips opened slightly, letting in air. She was breathing through her mouth, and as you loosened your grip thinking maybe it was too much, her hand squeezed yours again.

“I can do it” she assured referring to both your command and your grip. She then released your hand and began to roam her own body with it, descending to under her skirt. Her gaze descended with it and you could appreciate the length of her thick eyelashes. She began to stroke her clit while you focused on massaging her entrance in circles. “I can do this and much more, as long as I have you...” she breathed ‘in me" she looked up into your eyes.

You finally broke the distance that separated the both of you so you could kiss her face. She closed her eyes tightly trying to manage your caresses, your kisses and your strong grip on her neck. She closed them so tightly that a furtive tear escaped from her tear duct. You kissed her, her salty desire made liquid reaching your lips.

“Precious princess...” you whispered, and kissed her chin. She lifted it a little so you could continue touching it with your lips, and in those she slightly moved her whole body as well. She unintentionally brushed a knee against your crotch. You jumped with a start and opened your eyes instantly.

“S-sorry, didn't mean to-”

“It's okay. You may touch me” your voice was hoarse and your eyes had probably darkened, the way she was looking at you. Her free hand ascended to the nape of your neck and caressed under your jaw. You nodded to underline your conviction, so she moved her leg again without taking her eyes off you. You adjusted yourself against her knee until the friction was perfect. You raised your eyebrows in surprise.

Jenna knew she couldn't stimulate your cunt directly. You had always been very clear about this, and she had always respected it. On occasions like that, however, even a girl like you would welcome a touch like that, over your clothes.

You needed no more to feel yourself melting over her. You released your hand from her neck, much to her disgrace, and kissed her deeply. You lowered your kisses to her neck and noticed that there was a shallow reddish imprint of your fingers. You stopped your kisses. “It can be hidden with makeup, Y/N” she resolved, reading your thoughts. “Please don't stop” she whispered. You smiled and drew a line of saliva down her neck, the muscles of which ticked as she lifted her head to receive you.

Underneath her skirt, your fingers were still massaging her without entering her yet.

She was rubbing urgently. “Slow down” you commanded. “You are not coming till I say so” you reminded her.

She gave you an annoyed, almost hateful look, drawing a sly laugh from you. “Damn you...” she muttered coming closer to your mouth. You pulled away a little preventing her from kissing you.

“Uh?” you stopped your touch on her cunt and with your fingertips you traced her labia minora at a torturous slowness. “What did you say?” you lifted your hips pulling your own crotch away from her knee.

You could see how much of an effort she had to make in order to stay still . She gulped, alarmed.

“I apologize,” she said instantly. “Damn me. Ruin me, Y/N.”

“Are you going to behave?” you asked somewhat angrily. A mixture of indignation and disapproval permeated your words.

“Yes” she granted instantly. “I can prove it to you” she added, willingly. She was trying to convince you. "Please, forgive me".

You moved closer to her and she looked at your lips. You rested your crotch on her knee again and she let out a sigh of relief over you.

“I know you can do it. But are you going to?” you inquired feigning skepticism. Now that you were close, you noticed she had stopped masturbating. You knew then that she wouldn't continue until you told her to.

“Yes, my beloved. I am going to do whatever it takes to fulfill your desires” she pledged complacently.

You granted her a laddish smile at last and resumed your massage on her body. “That's how I like it, my princess... You look so gorgeous when you are this obedient” you reaffirmed satisfied, indeed.

You continued your touch whispering praises, massaging her tits with your free hand, over the corset. She removed her hand from your neck and grabbed the fabric of her corset. She looked up at you, “Pull it a little down for me” you whispered. She managed to pull it back just enough for her dark areolas and erect nipples to show themselves to you.

You contemplated her for a few seconds, she moved her fingers over her chest in a distracted gesture. She adored being admired by you.

“Beautiful creature... Show yourself to me” you demanded in a hoot. She lifted her head almost instinctively, as if it were possible to expose herself further.

You attacked her skin with restrained excitement, it was hard to hold back when she got like this. Her collarbone ready to be bitten by you, her breasts exposed and her clothes still covering her body, but with nothing to hide. You ran all over her chest drawing incomprehensible strokes with your lips to anyone but the two of you. You whispered praises incessantly, and she answered with moans of pleasure and choked moans.

“Don't hold it back. Don't hold yourself back, princess. Give it all to me” you encouraged her. “Gorgeous girl...” you continued, and this was the only time she allowed herself to interrupt you.

“Your gorgeous girl” she shamelesly corrected you in a desperate whine. “Your gorgeous girl. As you are my beloved, i'm yours. Im enterely yours.”

She dared to look at you shyly suddenly, for she knew she was bordering on the limits of your agreement. “My beloved lover” she said anyway. She was submitting to you in the most vulnerable way. And oh, she was getting rewarded.

You smiled softly and entered her in response. She closed her eyes and threw her head back moaning your name. She kept whispering that she was yours as you kissed her and she rode you, wiggling her hips deliciously against your fingers.

As she wiggled she massaged your cunt with her knee. You also moved against her, slowly feeling the consciousness leave your body. You attacked her tits, her chest and her neck in equal parts. You caressed her whole body and the cold metal of your watch caressed her curves. Your silver pendant brushed against her skin. She trembled beneath you, closer and closer to the precipice.

Your hand ascended to her collarbone and she caressed your palm, closing her eyes and sighing completely transfixed.

She opened her eyes slightly and looked at you. She was watching you in a way that only she could see you.

“Time stops when we are together” she confided to you in a tone of secrecy. At that moment she was caressing your watch. “I bought you this watch so you could count minutes while we are appart. But it all dissapear when we meet”.

Your fingers were deep in her, you moved in and out slowly and carefully, just as her words were coming out of her mouth. She let out a moan from the effort, she was having a hard time holding on, she wouldn't last much longer.

She looked at you again and it was all it took for her to take the watch from you in a single gesture. In a mocking fit, she held it between her teeth smiling at you. She raised an eyebrow. Irresistible.

“My gorgeous girl. Mine” you dared to say. She half opened her mouth in wonder, and the watch fell to her neck. You brushed your nose against hers in a barely perceptible caress. A delicate display of affection as, under her skirt, your fingers moved in and out of her inner lips at their whim, at just the right speed and pressure. You swayed against her knee and her hand rubbed her clitoris eagerly.

“Am i touching myself how you want me to?” she asked as she realized you noticed her speed.

You nodded and penetrated her as deep as you could. “Yes, princess. You're behaving so well for me. You're making me feel so good... Are you gonna cum?"

“I'm so close” she assured closing her eyes. You took her chin and she opened her eyes. “I'm gonna stop if you quit looking at me. Don't stop looking at me.” She bit her lower lip, looked at your lips and stifled a moan of frustration.

“I don't want to lose detail of your expression when you cum” you admitted in a whisper. She agreed with a look.

“Please, please Y/N... Kiss me afterwards” was all she asked.

“Of course, my dear” you granted instantly. She was your spoiled princess.

Her body trembled barely a minute later and she let herself be carried away by you as she drenched your fingers in a glorious orgasm. You rubbed against her until you released yourself, and continued to wiggle against her as you kissed her, as she requested. You slowly pulled out of her and interrupted your kiss to take your fingers into your mouth. You sucked them down their full length under her watchful and satisfied gaze.

“Hm... So Delicious” you praised, once again.

She gave you one of her irrisistible smiles.

"Just for you".

[hooked-on-elvis]

Elvis Presley and Gene Smith (his cousin), and Elvis and Alan Fortas (his friend and Memphis Mafia member) during photo shoot for "King Creole" in 1958.

Alan Fortas (nicknamed "Hog Ears" by Elvis), said about his pictures with EP: "To prove to my friends I was actually making movies with Elvis Presley, I had wallet size pictures like these made up from shots taken at promotional photo sessions for 'King Creole' held at Paramount studios 1958."

Elvis and friend, Alan Fortas. Early March 1958, at the Paramount Studios in Hollywood, CA.

[boreal-sea]

So something I realized watching a few videos and reading a few articles is that most of us aren’t angry at the idea of AI in general. Many of us are excited to learn about AI systems that can identify cancer better than doctors, for instance.

What we’re angry about is generative AI being used to destroy the jobs of artists (and I mean all creatives here), who have already been dealing with their work being devalued by modern society.

And I’m not sure how to deal with it. I do remember learning that when photography became a thing, many painters were horrified and terrified of would erase the art of painting. It didn’t obviously, and in fact photography because a whole new art form.

I grew up during the birth of digital art. I distinctly remember the phase digital art went through where many people declared it to not be “real art” and that it was “cheating” etc. I’m sure other millennial artists also remember this transition. But graphic designers pretty quickly adopted digital tools, and websites like DeviantArt popped up, and I don’t think there are too many people nowadays who would say a digital painting isn’t “art”. Still, I do imagine there is a gulf between how some people would view the “artistic merit” of a 3 ft tall oil painting hanging next to a 3 ft tall print of a digital painting, even if the subject and styles were similar. So the worries that digital art would erase physical painting was also proven false. And for the record, I think digital art is 100% art. The merit of digital art is equal to that of physical art.

On the other hand, I can’t say these changes didn’t affect older forms of art. Like, photography did affect the world of painting. I don’t have statistics, but it seems like it probably affected the world of portraiture the most. And I wonder if many of the 20th century art movements were influenced by photography. None of my art history classes touched on that and it’s kinda weird to me. There is definitely something about a Dada or cubism or surrealist painting that transcends beyond what a traditional photo of a landscape or a portrait can do. There is no location in the real world with actual melting clocks or people whose faces show multiple angles at once.

And then there was the digital photograph that changed everything again! Film has become a niche art form.

There were specific kinds of jobs lost due to the digital transition, too. I’m thinking of things like murals being replaced by printed banners, or book covers often being done in photoshop. Oh, and that’s another tool that was faced with fear: Photoshop! There was a fear it would destroy the need for professional photographers because everyone could just fix their own photos. Turns out nope, and in fact people skilled in photography and photo editing are still in demand. And of course there’s the loss of 2D animation in favor of 3D animation, the loss of practical effects for digital, etc.

And you might argue that in some of those cases people can tell corners are being cut and that they won’t stand for it, but Marvel movies still make billions of dollars so…

So I don’t know what’s going to happen with AI art. I am NOT saying “all current artists are stupid and wrong, in the future history students will laugh at how stubborn they were to resist this idea”. AI art is not comparable to photography or digital painting.

With a photograph, you still need to compose the image in the frame, you need to position yourself in the real world, you need to know your equipment, whether you’re using film or digital. You also need to know how to process that photo either in the dark room or in Photoshop. These are skills the average person does not have. You cannot tell an AI “that shot was good but can you increase the contrast?” It’ll just produce a completely new image.

I read an article about an art director who was encountering difficulties as the department tried to incorporate AI. They got back first drafts of art ideas from the people employed to work with the AI, gave critique, and the second round was just completely new images that didn’t include the suggestions… because they couldn’t. AI does not understand color theory. It does not have the ability to take critique. It can’t slightly alter the layout of a design.

And all of that applies to painting too. AI (currently) can’t do what a trained art student can do. It doesn’t know that to create a sense of atmosphere you should make distant objects bluer. It doesn’t know how to use human physiology and psychology to draw a viewer’s eyes across a large painting to reveal a story.

AI also can’t replicate INTENTION - and intentionality is a HUGE part of art. WHY an artist chose those colors, that medium, that composition, those tools, why they chose to display it a certain way, why the composition is like this instead of that - all of that adds meaning to the painting that you can’t get with AI.

(Yes, there is an absolutely valid field of art critique that evaluates a piece of art on its standalone value and the message it conveys without the context of the artist’s intent, but that should be compared to the analysis that DOES include the artist’s intent! That comparison can bring about so much understanding!)

Anyway I’m going to end this post now because it has gotten WAY too long. I focused mostly on painting and photography in this post because those are my particular fields of speciality, but this applies to ALL ART. It applies to music and writing and scripting and acting and composing music and just. Everything. All art.

I don’t think there are any forms of art AI doesn’t threaten. Now granted, AI can’t currently pick up a paint brush. It can’t use a crochet needle. It can’t hold a camera. And maybe there will be some sort of return to physical media in response to AI produced digital art. Or maybe there will be a response in digital art to stylistically distinguish it from AI in a way AI can’t reproduce. I’m not sure what will happen. Maybe some proof the image was digitally painted by a real person, somehow. Or that it’s a real photo, or a real article. I saw someone mention there may end up being labels like “100% human made” like we do for organic food lol. Maybe work in progress videos or photo metadata will become more commonplace as evidence of authenticity.

Anyway, NOW I’m ending this post. Whew.

[theroyalsims]

“HAPPIER WITH ANYA” ALFONSO+ANYA FANS MOURN PRINCE’S ENGAGEMENT

It’s a sad day for die-hard shippers of two of the most popular young royals. 

It has recently been announced that Prince Alfonso is engaged to be wed to his girlfriend of half a year, Miss Felicity Nowhanne. The happy news, however, was not well-received by some royal fans, specifically those who were hoping that the Prince would end up with our very own Crown Princess Anya. 

(Above: File photos (L) Alfonso helps Anya walk through a muddy archaeological site during the latter’s official visit to Selvadorada. (R) Anya and Alfonso were photographed leaving the chapel together after the christening of Princess Amara, the latter’s niece. The two stood as godparents to the little Princess.)

Although the Prince and Crown Princess never really dated, people have noticed their chemistry during the times they’ve been photographed with each other, and noted that they look incredibly good together. 

One fans wrote:

“No. No, Fonsi! You’re supposed to be with Anya! What are you doing? That’s not Anya. I see the way you look at our girl, and lemme just say you look way happier with Anya that with that other lady.”

(Above: Prince Alfonso smiles alongside Crown Princess Anya for a group photo during Queen Julia’s birthday banquet last year.)

Another wrote:

“For me, it’s the way he looks at Anya and the way he’s always touching her whenever they’re together. Look at his eyes. They literally shimmer when he looks at her! Everyone knows Alfonso has feelings for Anya. I dunno if she knows how he feels, but you can’t fake the magical pull between them.” 

However, some say that the imaginary pairing is completely unfounded. One royal expert suggest:

“Yes, they look together and they get along really well. But they’ve never actually been a couple. Anya knows that Alfonso is a massive flirt and has playboy tendencies so she has always kept her distance. 

For years they’ve been linked and rumoured to be together, and some of my inside sources reveal that Alfonso did try his luck with Anya, but she shot him down nicely but rather quickly. She values his friendship, but that’s all it’ll ever be for those two, at least where Anya is concerned.”

(Above: File photos. Top row: Alfonso and Anya reunited for the royal wedding of Tartosa’s Crown Princess Giulianna; Bottom Row: Alfonso and Anya were photographed laughing during the pre-wedding party of Prince Liam of Glimmerbrook a few years back.)

Some royal fans also felt sorry for Prince Alfonso’s future bride:

“Imagine being engaged to a hot Prince and immediately find your name and yourself torn apart just because some people are convinced your fiancé is better off with someone else. That must hurt like heck. I actually feel sorry for her. Some royal fans can be too much sometimes.”

While we agree that Anya and Fonsi would’ve looked great together (and let’s face it, made adorable babies), some things are just not meant to be. 

Here’s hoping Fonsi finds happiness with Miss Felicity. 

[timchalamet-devoted]

I wanna be yours...

A/N: The last few posts have all been fluff, so I thought I'd post something more angsty. I'd also recommend listening to the song " I wanna be yours " by the Arctic Monkeys while reading, as this imagine was inspired by it.

Pairing: (fem)actress!reader x Timothée

Summary: During one of her many red carpets, the reader spots Timothée amongst the crowds, and can't help but wonder if he'll ever be hers.

‐----‐---------------------‐-----------------------‐------------------

So there you stood. It was exhilarating, to say the least. Screams uprose the minute your silver heels hit the red fabric, turning every head and every pair of eyes to you. However many times you did this was insignificant; you knew it would not be in your ability to fully comprehend where you were, nor the love and adoration you received from millions of people who called themselves fans. Your fans. How could any one human being be so cared for? You were no one special if truth be told, just a young girl who was willing to fight the battle of death to change life into the one she believed she was destined for. Deserved. A girl who hurt, not only those around her but herself without mercy to be great. So many laughed her off, and mocked her, but so did she, often drowning in her own criticism, hate and tears. Did that all matter now? Certainly not. Despite the pain, she did it. All these people before you, with admiration and jealousy in their eyes? They were here for you, to see you. And although primarily you were of no importance, you felt like a star, or a million dollar gem, standing, head high as they all screamed your name. The smile that was etched onto your face was undeniable, as you strode elegantly along the carpet, blinded by harsh flashes of white light that cornered and circled you, accompanied by the faces of strangers all shoving microphones in hopes of an answer from you to one of their questions that you heard oh-so-many times before. You had dreamed from the age of eleven to be recognised for your talent, and now you certainly were. You had dreamed of this. And you were absolutely loving it, absorbing every aspect and tiny detail until it made your head spin. As you walked, you were constantly attempted to be ushered here and there, but you simply smiled politely at each who did so and continued with a clear purpose.

You paused accoasionally turning this way and that, satisfying photographers with poses, smiles and waves to the fans. A shimmering Ralph Lauren dress draped over your body, incisions revealing snippets of skin, and paired with Valentino heels and Burberry accessories. It was understandably so that you felt as though you were soaring.

A little while later, you had eventually reached the interviewers, grinning as you recognised a handful. One greeted you, firstly commenting on your 'stunning' attire, and then proceeding to ask a series of questions. As expected, the majority were in relation to the evening or your character, so nothing too demanding. Time ran short on events as this, so the interviewer made sure he skimmed over the simpler questions to reach those that you would answer with more in-depth consideration. It was exactly during one of these questions that your eyes latched onto him, for the first time this evening.

You call the shots babe, I just wanna be yours...

He had really outdone himself this time, somehow matching your idea of sequens while also bringing his usual bright and bold. He took your breath away, and slowly your concentration began to slip. Relunctantly, you trained your eyes back to the interviewer, finally delivering your rather impressive answer, however yor mind was someplace else.

Secrets I have held in my heart

Are harder to hide than I thought

This evening was long anticipated, but your stomach dropped each time you thought of him, standing right next to you. It was beyond question that it was not because you disliked him. No not at all.

Maybe I just wanna be yours

You looked at him, desire and adoration seen in your own eyes this time.

Just wanna be yours...

You could feel the surface glistening over, as you admired Timothée, whom you for so long craved to merely be in the same room as. And yet here you were, his co-actor for ten months, still with a shattered heart. Tragically, his eyes left the camera lenses and landed on your own instead. Your heart skipped a beat, as you searched his distant orbs for a sign, only one thought running through your head as the deafening noise surrounding you was silenced and the world slowed. Will you ever be mine? Because

I wanna be yours...

[girlwiththealligatortattoo]

“You use a glass mirror to see your face; you use works of art to see your soul.”

― George Bernard Shaw

Pictured here is a secretary bird, which I photographed in 2019, Africa. Imagine...it is now 2023. On a trip like that, I took thousands of images. Close to 6,000 to be exact. That's actually a lot less than most would take during 10 days in Africa. I am not a "spray and pray" kind of photographer, though no disrespect is meant to anyone who has that style. Photography for me, is like a meditation. I'm not just after an image. I'm after a "moment." And enjoying that moment quietly, holding my breath, hand holding my camera, and taking one shot at a time, is the large majority of what I do. I have an extremely high keeper rate, because of this particular style that I choose. Do I sometimes miss the shot? Sure. But I remember the moments I tried. It's just my personality, but I don't think that makes it "better" than any other way of making images.

I have only recently begun to take any continuous photos, and those are reserved for birds in flight, although I'm sure I would use it for animals running at high speeds.

I hope to be sharing images from my various travels and projects for years to come, and in a few days I have two exciting announcements to make!

Happy Tuesday beautiful people!

[mickeytheticklee]

The cutest (no longer secret): Spies on a mission pt 2

Imagine y/n wearing this type of outfits type shit

Warning: Tickling

Even after the mission succeeded in y/n getting her tickles back there was still that mission they wanted to do. You know, the mission where they tickle you in a rental home with their excuse of wanting content for Kepchup. Yesterday, the night before conquering a nice adventure they thought of what game they should play. They realize that whenever they have a small outing in ends with a tickle game and no winner. For them, it's sort of like tradition. Like how they played the Mafia game or that game of hide and seek, it's always some game that takes more than 3 hours with everyone exhausted afterwards. However Yeseo did think that they should try making their own game to where they play it every time they're on their adventures.

Xiaoting: We should name it kep1. Because it's short for kept 1.

Dayeon: YES! Lemme grab paper and a pen so I can write this down.

Kep1 is a game where you can work together or turn against each other. More of the rules will be specified later as they needed to wake up early for the photo shoot. Tomorrow came and the girls were excited (especially Dayeon and Yujin). They were shocked by how long they’d kept the secret from you. You did pictures with Chaehyun as she's been a big teaser towards you. A lot of photos you did with her were back-hugged photos, meaning she can hug you while poking your trapped sides. You were suffering, but at least the photographer was complementing your smile.

Photographer: Keep that big smile up y/n! Love it!

Chaehyun: I love your big smile too.

After a few solo shots and pictures of the group, you were finished with shooting. With that remaining time, you took pics of the girls and supported them during their shooting. With that, the cameraman interviewed about you your possibility of guest starring in a competition show. As of last week, you've been practicing with a dance group as you've been invited to SMF. You still haven't told the members and you kept it a secret as the song you're doing. But this was the first time you were doing a schedule without your friends, so it made you nervous but intrigued.

Cameraman: Can you show us a snippet?

Y/n: I can't do a move, I feel I'll be revealing too much. But I will say...I'll be doing lots of tricks.

Mashiro was the last member before the group was finished shooting completely. The girls were getting antsy, finally, their plan was happening. Youngeun found you taking pictures of nature and back hugged you. She told you it was time to leave as it ruined your mood. That meant back to the company with long practices without fun. Youngeun cupped your cheeks, asking about your sudden pouty face.

Youngeun: What's with the sad face?

Y/n: I don't want to go to practice. I want raspberry from you and Hyyih...

Youngeun: You'll get it soon I promise.

The girls said goodbye to their manager before having to travel three hours to their rental home. You were in the van with Chaehyun and Yujin, sleeping on Yujin's shoulder. Glad that they didn't worry about you interrogating them with questions since you easily get tired after a warm morning outside. Yujin and Chaehyun woke you up midway through the trip by blowing in your ear. You woke up soft giggling but confused as to the unknown location. That's when the two told you the surprise news that Shiro persuaded the manager to rent a home to have more tickle time. Your eyes lit up, you were wishing about this since last night. You missed those fun times that ended with a group meal or taking a nap. They also discussed the game, kep1. A member has to tickle their opponent to get you, however, they must tickle you in the same spot they tickled their opponent for two minutes. In a way, it was sort of like capture the flag, except there's tickling and you're the flag. You liked how you weren't involved in their heavy competition because you know you'll lose.

Y/n: Cool! So when does the game start?

Yujin: It can start now. And the bad thing is Dayeon can't save you.

Chaehyun: You wouldn't dare...GET ME OUT!

Yujin tickling you IN A CAR is fucking evil idc. She was evil laughing as you and Chaehyun were scared. Chaehyun was afraid since she was in an enclosed space and also Yujin's long arms can be enough to tickle you and her. She said she wasn't going to do it since everyone agreed the game will start once they head over there. They spent the remaining car time teasing you with pokes and giving you cheek kisses. Soon enough, they were at their destination, and you felt that all hell was going to break loose. You were right. Yujin and Chaehyun went out of the car slowly, stretching their aching backs from the long car drive. Then immediately Chaehyun took your hand and you started running with her. Chaehyun did think doing this was going to be an advantage until you were both trapped by Mashiro and Hikaru, who were standing by the front door.

Chaehyun: I thought we said no pacts!

Hikaru: We changed the rules last minute!

Hikaru was then tickling you while Shiro's strength held Chaehyun so she wouldn't intervene. She tickled your sides using the hug technique as you were trying your best to get out. You did get out before the two minutes were up but Hikaru tickling your neck caused you to fall down in laughter again. They thought they did good but in reality, they were supposed to tickle Chaehyun first before tickling you. So she absolutely tickled the shit out of Mashiro for five minutes, when it should've been two. But that's Chaehyun, who's good at revenge tickles and giving neck raspberries to Mashiro. You and Hikaru were running up the stairs until a surprise guest came waiting on top of the stairs. The second they saw Youngeun they tried to run back down but it was too late, Hikaru was caught by her.

Y/n: HIKARU NOOOOO!

Hikaru: It's okay, leave me y/n. Just save yourself.

Yes, y'all were reenacting some cliché action movie-type plot. Expect Hikaru wasn't screaming she was having a high squeal from Youngeun tickling her tummy and armpits. You slowly went down the stairs, knowing how good these girls are at lurking. The coast was clear downstairs, now you needed to go into the kitchen to go to the backyard. It was making you nervous hearing Chaehyun and Hikaru's laughter. Who's tickling skills were that good to take down Chaehyun? Well, the same girl who caught you while you were slowly tip-toeing down the stairs. Youngeun grabbed you while dragging you into a bedroom to tickle you. Once she found a room she pinned you on the bed and tickled your feet while also tickling your armpits, switching from right to left. It was evil, her only getting your armpits so you wouldn't touch your feet.

Y/n: YOUNGEUN AHHHAHAHAHA ARE WE FINISHED HAHHAHHA!!

Youngeun: I don't know I thought you were supposed to be in charge of the time.

One good bad evil thing coming out of this game, no one has a concept of time. But she stopped tickling you when you were trying to push her off or try to tickle her back. She lets you breathe and say their goal is to get to the other side of the backyard. But they have to go around the pool before having to enter the big backyard. It was hard to plan things out because with one attack from Xiaoting or Yujin it was over. Youngeun had a plan and quickly got herself out of one of the bedrooms into another bedroom where Yeseo was. She was minding her business until Youngeun did a trade-off in the game, where they slap hands so Youngeun can avoid being tickled. The downside was you have to get tickled in four minutes instead of two. However, Youngeun was dumb for giving you to Yeseo if you were trying to avoid Mashiro and Hikaru's team.

Y/n: YOUNGEUN! CHAEHYUN! DAYEON!

Yeseo: Nowhere to hide my ticklish baby.

Before grabbing the door she tickled you, causing you to curl into a ball of ticklish laughter. Yeseo made a promise that if you lifted your arms up she'll tickle you for two minutes. It was the worse type of ticklish feeling because she eventually went for your neck and to your shoulder blade. Luckily with your free arms dangling in the air you unlocked the door and opened it. That didn't do you any justice as she pinned you to where she was tickling your back. Being pinned on your stomach for back tickles was the #1 weakness for you. Especially in your lower back area, you can't handle it and all you can do is stay there and laugh it off. You did wiggle your way out of the trap and made a run but again, another trap came awaiting you. Bahiyyih caught you and trapped you on the couch, where Xiaoting and Yujin followed after that. Bahi, Xiaoting, AND Yujin...kinda wishing you were running much faster because that's the deadliest trio.

Bahiyyih: Don't worry, this won't be too bad y/n.

Xiaoting: Just get thru nine and you'll get out.

Y/n: Nine?!?! NO NOHAHAHHAHAH

Yujin was giving you a raspberry while Bahiyyih and Xiaoting were holding your arms and legs. Soon when you were weakened from the third raspberry the other two joined to give you six more. Those two raspberries did a lot, and it's shocking how the game has still just started. Bahiyyih still tickled you even though the four minutes were up by tickling your exposed tummy. Xiaoting was tickling your ankles and feet while Yujin was tickling your neck. The tickle revenge soon started when Dayeon and Chaehyun, who were hiding behind the couch decide to tickle Hyyih and Xiaoting. They would've gotten Yujin but it takes two people to tickle her (or it takes Xiaoting to tickle her).

Bahiyyih: CHAE- CHAE- HAHAHAHAHAHA

Chaehyun: We'll help you as soon as we win and catch y/n.

Dayeon: Where is y/n?

Meanwhile, you were trying to get out of the house to escape everyone trying to tickle each other. It was too late when Dayeon caught you before you reached the door knob. She dragged your body to the living room again to be tickled by not only her but Chaehyun and Yujin. Anything having to involve the tickle twins meant torture beyond 100. But adding to that the others finally had the motivation to find you and also tickle you. Now you were on the eldest's lap, getting tummy tickles from the tickle twins and your legs getting tickled from the tall-like twins, then the shorties tickling your feet.

Y/n: HAHHAHHAHHAH I THOUGHT YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO CAPTURE ME AND GO TO THE GOAL!!

Yujin: But we did catch you. We caught the cutest member in the world.

That would be a sweet aww moment if you weren't burrowed in eighteen different hands. After that long amount of tickling with raspberries everywhere by the tickle twins plus Youngeun, it was time to call the game over. There was really no winner but if there was a winner over who did the most raspberries the winner would've been a tie between Dayeon and Hikaru. With that amount of tickling, every few seconds deserved a very long nap. You took a nap upstairs while the members went out to get groceries for tonight's dinner. Today was an extremely good day, no doubt that the tickling might end because the manager will come soon. Your nap was disturbed when Youngeun jumped on you, giving you loads of kisses. Nice to know your dream was the same as now.

Youngeun: Dinner is ready!

Y/n: Thanks for telling me Youngeun.

Everyone ate with the kep1er manager, as well as your separate manager. It was painfully quiet at the table, which wasn't good. Where was your blabbering about what choreography you learned or what tickling fact you knew today? But they knew she was quiet since the manager was judging quietly of your actions. While eating and looking down Hyihh did a small probe to your stomach causing you to let out a loud squeal in the silence outside. It was embarrassing because it's been more than 30 minutes since anyone talked, and all you can hear is another squeal coming out your mouth and the crackling sound of the campfire.

Y/n: AH- sorry sir...won't do it again.

Bahiyyih: But I will. Anyone that has a problem please speak.

The managers went silent, looking at each other before eating. You thought that managers let it pass this one time since a little squeal wouldn't harm nobody. But after dinner, Mashiro got you up and you both ran in the field together. She wanted to give you a piggyback ride but she wasn't strong enough to carry you through. Then everyone got up to play a small game that didn't require a complex game system. It was to run and not catch them, which seems like an easy and fair game (even though it's nine against one). In the end, you did lose, but you tried so hard not to run so fast so the members wouldn't tackle you down and tickle you. That's when they knew it was that serious cuz usually you wouldn’t mind being tackled down to where your knees would start bleeding from the dry grass. Out of nowhere, Xiaoting tickled you to where she got on top of you, and now the others were surrounding you.

Y/n: XIAOTING NOO!

Mashiro: Sorry, but you must learn your lesson that the managers shouldn't care as to how you should spend time with us.

Yujin: And maybe...not let us know in a preview that you were going to be featured in SMF.

Lesson learned for being tickled for a straight hour. But the laughter was earned for a few months of stressful times and being too hard on yourself. In the end, your manager did apologize for the insensitivity against you and the tickle ban was lifted hooray! Which continued you're weekly tickle lives with Xiaoting with special guest Dayeon who sometimes barges in. You guys continued your Fridays of movies and tickling and you suddenly got much happier. Like you went to sleep smiling and went to practice smiling. Every day you were smiling.

[dankusner]

The Trump Assassination Attempt Meets the Internet’s Brain-Rot Era

After a gunman attacked Donald Trump during a campaign rally in Pennsylvania on Saturday, the first pieces of media to emerge were striking photographs of Trump, with blood trickling down his face, pumping his fist defiantly as Secret Service officers escorted him off the stage.

My colleague Benjamin Wallace-Wells described this scene, as captured by Evan Vucci of the Associated Press, as “the indelible image of our era of political crisis and conflict.”

(Trump later gloated, “Usually you have to die to have an iconic picture.”)

As many have noted, these pictures are the documents of the incident which are presumably destined for the history books.

In the present, though, public perception is influenced just as much by how the shooting gets digested and distributed online as countless fragments of viral content.

Fittingly, for an event involving a former President notorious for spreading disinformation and inanity online, the assassination attempt on Trump suggests just how rapidly today’s social platforms can distort a deadly serious news event into misleading tidbits and gleefully empty jokes.

Trump has been a creature of the Internet since before he was a Presidential contender, but prior to this weekend his peak of online infamy seemed to be behind him.

He once dominated Twitter, now X, but he no longer posts there, even though Elon Musk, the platform’s owner, lifted a ban on Trump’s account;

for a while, his online footprint was limited to his own relatively unpopular platform, Truth Social.

Trump’s most recent talked-about moments on the wider Internet were less than heroic.

There was his glowering mug shot from the Fulton County Jail, in Atlanta, and pictures of him apparently dozing off in court during his hush-money trial, in New York.

But those events occurred back when the 2024 Presidential election still seemed like a sleepy contest between two familiar candidates retreading a previous matchup.

With the assassination attempt, Trump has become social media’s main character once more, and on the Internet, at least, the main character is always the winner.

Twitter used to feel like part of journalism’s “first rough draft of history,” a real-time record of current events.

Now, as X, with its content moderation gutted and news articles deprioritized, the platform is more like a particle collider chaotically remixing bits of content to produce the most attention-grabbing memes.

Taken together, the memes about the rally shooting represent a collective yawp of confusion over how to process such an extreme incident through such fundamentally trivializing channels.

One discomfiting thing is how easily an act of deadly political violence has been slotted into all the usual meme templates.

On X, pro-Trump partisans drew on the overused trope of “Renaissance paintings,” praising the dignity of the Trump photographs from the rally as well as their propagandistic potential.

On TikTok, a young woman looped the shooting into the mania surrounding the pop musician Charli XCX’s recent album, “BRAT,” and its self-affirming attitude:

“Does anyone else kinda think that getting shot in the head and then being completely fine afterwards is, like, really, really ‘BRAT’ summer though?” she said to the camera.

A post on 4chan, copied to TikTok, imagined the spirit of Shinzo Abe, the former Japanese Prime Minister who was assassinated in 2022, telling Trump to get up.

It’s funny, I guess, but only in the bleakest way.

At this point, can we expect anything besides whimsical nihilism from our online response to breaking news?

Lately, the phrase “brain rot” has been used to describe a thoroughly Internet-poisoned state of mind.

Those with brain rot speak in social-media slang and meme references.

They see the world as so much fodder for the TikTok algorithm.

The media, of course, has always viewed tumultuous historical moments as good material.

As the sports-business analyst Darren Rovell said in a tweet from 2016, since deleted, “i feel bad for our country. But this is tremendous content.”

What is disorientingly new about today’s Internet is how rapidly and vigorously extraordinary events become little more than their recycled parts.

After news broke that President Biden had called Trump in the shooting’s aftermath, videos on TikTok imagined a budding romance between the two.

One clip, set to “Casual,” by Chappell Roan, another pop star of the moment, has been watched by millions of users, making it, de facto, an influential document of the times.

The form of the content—its production value and valence, like a subatomic particle’s spin—surpasses the underlying raw material.

The attempted assassination of a former President is treated with the same catholic flippancy as a pop album or a Chinese glycine factory’s ads.

(As one post on X put it, “u think people in the 1800s were being this funny when john wilks booth shot lincoln”?)

The result is not quite satire; it is absurdism without insight, our new lingua franca online.

What qualifies as important is inextricable from what goes viral, and vice versa. “ ‘BRAT’ summer” has the same weight as an act of political violence, and thus the two are inevitably mixed to create something even more clickable.

Meaning matters less than recognizability, the split second of understanding the joke.

A fog has always descended over the Internet when news breaks; legitimate reporting competes for attention with hair-trigger takes and intentional disinformation.

But it is becoming harder and harder online to emerge with a clear picture of reality.

When the first reports trickled in on Saturday, it was difficult to know if the shooting was even real and not some glitch of algorithmic confusion or figment generated by artificial intelligence.

Perhaps you found yourself searching those first photographs of a defiant Trump for signs of A.I. hands; it’s become a necessary habit to think that way.

The general air of confusion helped fuel an outpouring of conspiracy theories about the assassination attempt on both the right and the left:

it was faked in order to help Trump;

it was the job of the deep state.

Some meme-makers went to elaborate lengths to give such theories visibility.

On X, #Staged became a top-trending hashtag.

As much as the news itself, the deluge of meta-content is overwhelming.

Some of the most reasonable memes I’ve seen in recent days have channelled the public’s ambivalence about a Presidential election that suddenly seems far too dramatic.

You may have heard the news about Trump’s rally and had the urge to simply carry on with your Chipotle order, as one post on X suggested.

Elsewhere, a screen capture of Squidward, the morose character from “SpongeBob SquarePants,” was edited to wear a pin reading “I really wish I weren’t living through a major historical event right now!”

Perhaps, as the TikTok generation often puts it, the meme made you feel seen.

[elementscelebrate]

Sibling Photoshoot Ideas That Will Make You Go Aww!

 Sibling photography is fun since it involves your partner in crime since the days when you played with the same toy and even stole each other’s favourite toy for no reason. There can’t be a sibling photoshoot without a meltdown looking at those special moments you may have spent together. Even if you are shooting children, the best sibling photoshoot ideas can capture the biggest smiles and personalities. So, get your brothers and sisters together and choose from these sibling photography ideas for that perfect family moment.

The Classic

Capturing the siblings throwing arms around each other is a classic and simple photoshoot idea. Little kids can sit crisscross next to each other and strike the pose while the adult siblings can simply stand. If there are more than two siblings, the pose can be changed to the siblings holding around each other’s waist, leaning on the shoulder, or just holding hands.

Playing Outside

For candid sibling photography, the best idea is to capture the siblings playing together in the garden or at a park.

Spinning or Dancing

This is one of the most playful sibling photoshoot ideas where the siblings can dance around in a circle. This will be a fun photography idea not just for the siblings but even for the onlookers.

In the Bedroom

Capture candid shots of the siblings doing things they love the most, like rocking their favourite chair, making the bed, or playing with their toys. Let them snuggle up together for those precious shots, and you can have a photoshoot of your dreams.

Playing with Leaves in the Garden

The perfect outdoor sibling photoshoot idea, the main element of this photo session is leaves in varied shades and colours. You can have the kids throw the leaves up in the air and then trace how they float to the ground. Such shots look eye-pleasing and realistic. 

Conclusion

Picture this: the joyous laughter, the tender embraces, and the cherished moments frozen in time – these sibling photoshoot ideas are designed to tug at your heartstrings and bring a smile to your face every time you revisit them.  If you’re on the hunt for the perfect sibling photoshoot location in the vibrant cities of Coimbatore, Chennai, Bangalore, or Hyderabad, your search ends with Elements.

Elements Celebrate isn’t just a studio; it’s a haven of memories waiting to be woven into the fabric of nature. With breathtaking gardens and open spaces, it’s a photographer’s dream come true. Imagine the magic of your sibling bond amidst the greenery and natural light – pure, candid, and heartwarming. 

Why wait to seize the opportunity to capture everlasting memories with your cherished siblings in the open embrace of nature? Embrace the chance to encapsulate the essence of your sibling bond at Elements – where every photograph is a testament to love, laughter, and the great outdoors. 

Explore the enchantment at https://elementscelebrate.com/ and let your sibling’s story unfold under the vast sky and amidst the beauty of nature. 

FAQS

What are some creative themes for a sibling photoshoot?

Some of the most creative brother-sister photoshoot themes include: – Having them sit together for a classic pose – Capturing siblings busy conversing – Having the siblings pulling their scariest and funniest faces at the camera. – Using matching dresses to maximize cuteness – Capturing siblings gazing out of the window for some vivid shots.

How can I prepare for an outdoor sibling photoshoot?

Plan the outfits for a sibling photoshoot at least a week in advance so you do not have any confusion on the day of the shoot. Also, always arrange extra outfits for each kid, even if it’s a nine or ten-year-old child. Other necessary preparations include carrying a tripod, using supplemental lighting and shooting during the magic hour.

Are there any tips for capturing candid moments during a sibling photoshoot?

Yes, they are: – Perfect collaboration by following the kids’ lead and sharing their enthusiasm. – Keep your phone handy to capture candid shots the moment they come. – Random tickling to break the ice and get the happy feelings soaring. – Capturing the snuggles and kisses – Shots of the kids walking away from the camera 

What props can make a sibling photoshoot more fun and memorable?  

Sports items like bats and calls, footballs, team jerseys and gloves can make sibling photoshoots more memorable and fun. Besides these, you can also use quilts and holiday props like tree ornaments, gloves and scarves. Something essentially for the kids, like finger paints, bubbles, balloons, stuffed animals and ribbons, may also work.

Do you have suggestions for indoor sibling photoshoot setups and backgrounds?

A sparkly indoor background makes the perfect setup for a sibling photoshoot. Besides this, a background full of stuffed animals, rainbow-colored patterns, house plants, and candid portraits of regular family life can also be a great choice. 

What should siblings wear for a coordinated look in photoshoots?

You can accomplish a cohesive and coordinated look for the siblings in their photoshoot, even without them wearing the same outfit. Instead of going for an overly matching outfit, choose colours that complement them. Casual and relaxed clothing like t-shirts and jeans, light shirts, blouses, and floaty dresses are the best for indoor sibling photoshoot sessions.

[iglowstudio]

Searching for Wedding Photographers in Chennai? Discover iGlow Studioz for Magical Moments

Planning your dream wedding in Chennai? Capture every enchanting moment with iGlow Studioz, your go-to wedding photographers! From candid shots to stunning portraits, our experienced team will preserve your special day in timeless beauty. Don't miss the chance to turn your wedding memories into cherished masterpieces. Contact iGlow Studioz today and let us illuminate your love story through our lens!

Your wedding day is one of the most magical and cherished moments of your life. The joy, laughter, and emotions shared on this particular occasion are priceless. To ensure these precious memories are captured beautifully, it is crucial to choose the right wedding photographer. If you're tying the knot in Chennai, look no further than iGlow Studioz – a team of passionate and talented photographers dedicated to preserving your love story in timeless imagery.

Why Choose iGlow Studioz?

Experienced Professionals: iGlow Studioz boasts a team of skilled and experienced photographers who have honed their craft over the years. Their expertise ensures that no moment is missed, and every emotion is captured flawlessly.

Tailored Packages: Recognizing that every wedding is unique, iGlow Studioz offers a variety of packages to suit different preferences and budgets. Whether you're planning an intimate gathering or a grand celebration, they have a package that fits your needs perfectly.

Candid Moments: Candid photography is an art that takes skill and intuition. The photographers at iGlow Studioz have a knack for capturing those genuine and spontaneous moments that reveal the true essence of your love.

Attention to Detail: From the intricate details of your wedding attire to the subtle expressions on your face, iGlow Studioz pays attention to every detail. These meticulous touches add depth and richness to the final collection of photographs.

The Process

Pre-Wedding Consultation: Before the big day, iGlow Studioz arranges a pre-wedding consultation to understand your vision and preferences. This allows them to plan and execute the photography to align perfectly with your expectations.

On D-Day: On your wedding day, the photographers work discreetly, ensuring they don't intrude on the natural flow of events. They strive to be unobtrusive, allowing you and your guests to enjoy the celebrations without feeling overwhelmed by cameras.

Post-Production Magic: After the wedding, the team at iGlow Studioz meticulously curates and edits the photographs to bring out the best in every shot. The result is a stunning collection of images that narrate the beautiful story of your wedding day.

Testimonials

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Your wedding day is a celebration of eternal love, and preserving those memories is a priceless investment. With iGlow Studioz, you can rest assured that every moment will be captured with care and passion. Their exceptional talent and dedication make them the perfect choice for wedding photographers in Chennai. So, let them be a part of your special day, and together, create a beautiful tapestry of love that you can cherish for a lifetime.

[l4verq]

i thought i lost you again

steve rogers x reader

in which steve is scared of losing you again after the blip took you away from him for 5 years

tags : flufffff w a little angst bc that’s the best kind of fluff, mentions of death (endgame can go suck my left tit)

fic : one shot

masterlist

|| gif by @imaginedreamwrite ||

-

Steve knows he’s just being paranoid.

However that doesn’t stop him from racing around the house, your name on his lips.

The two storey house tucked away in the outskirts of a small town Steve set up for the both of you. The smile that crept to your face as you tried to adjust your eyes to the bright sunlight when he took off the blindfold, priceless.

He sprints past the framed photographs that you’d meticulously picked out to fit the “aesthetic” of the wall. Bowls of popcorn you two had been too lazy to wash last night were still sprawled on the coffee table facing the tv.

He can feel the panic rising in his chest cause he can’t go back. He can’t go back to feeling how he did for five years. How empty he felt without you. How he longed to hold your hand and tell you how much he loved you. How he hated walking up to an empty spot next to him.

Taking a deep breath, he tries to focus and calm down. Craning his ears, he can almost make out light footsteps trailing up to him. It’s faint but it’s all it takes for Steve to dart out of the house and follow the sound.

You walk up the steep hill leading to your house, carrying a basket of strawberries that a new friend had graciously gifted you with. A friend? Maybe a new acquaintance was the correct term.

You could imagine Nat teasing you with her lips curled up into a shit eating grin about how domestic you’ve gotten.

Picking strawberries? Maybe it’s time you went for the monthly community meetups.

You’d roll your eyes, pushing back the grin creeping up your face. Get in a punch or two.

If she’d let you.

Two months. That’s how long it’d been since everything became normal. Well, semi-normal.

But it still felt like yesterday when you were on your knees, crying for Nat. Vision. Tony. His 5 year old he left behind.

It’d been Steve who held you tight, rocking you back and forth. His own heart breaking at the sight of you.

It was always Steve. Who smelt like that one laundry softener he always used cause once you’d drunkenly spilled that you liked the scent. Steve who always ate the yolk cause it tasted like “slimey goo” to you.

Steve, who was running up to you in a daze.

You let out a oof as he crashes into you, your basket dropping from your hands.

“You do remember you’re 220 pounds of just pure muscle, right?” You chuckle, nesting your head right in the crook of his neck like always.

You can hear him smile, his lips ghosting around your head.

But something’s off.

“What’s wrong?” Pulling your head back, you look up to his cerulean blue eyes that had you swooning over him the day you met him.

“S’nothing.” He smiles, his hands still wrapped around your waist, gripped a little too tight.

“We both know I’m gonna get it out of you.”

A deep bellowed laugh rumbles from his chest as he leans in to kiss your forehead.

“It’s stupid, really. I woke up and you weren’t there. The next thing I know, I’m back there. Back there during those five years without you.” He mumbles, his voice trailing off.

You place your hands on his cheeks, tiptoeing slightly.

“Steven Grant Rogers, I’m not leaving you. Ever. Unless Tom Hardy comes in the picture.”

“I’d just take him out of the picture.”

“America’s spangled sweetheart murdering an innocent man? What will people say?”

“That he did it for love.” He gives a smug grin, patting his chest.

“Ew.”

It’s a long time of you two just holding each other, before he notices the strawberries all over the ground.

“Did you go rob a garden or something?”

[hooked-on-elvis]

"Really, believe me, I'm Elvis Presley"

Can you imagine a time when Elvis was not famous just yet and people kinda ignored him?

Of course we know he wasn't famous his whole life but it's so impressive knowing about a time when people saw him face to face and couldn't care less. I invite you on reading about a few of these moments. There's my personal written in here and also - properly credited - info and text from the website Elvis Australia and Mr. Alfred Wertheimer's accounts on moments shared side by side to Elvis in 1956. Here we go!

"Those are words the King probably never had to use again. But on this train ride to Memphis from New York, the two young woman didn't believe who he was. So Elvis pointed to Alfred Wertheimer, and asked the girls why he'd have a photographer taking his picture on a train if he wasn't Elvis Presley. Good point! The girls then seemed to believe him, but still turned down an invitation to his concert at Memphis' Russwood Station July 4th 1956. This photo is either july 3 or July 4, 1956."

Text from: https://www.elvispresleymusic.com.au/pictures/1956-july-3.html | Recollections by photographer Alfred Wertheimer.

July 4th, 1956 - Elvis during a stop at Sheffield Alabama. Elvis ordered chicken and snack cakes - Photo by Alfred Wertheimer.

What a shot! Elvis is looking at the camera, everyone else is looking at the food. No one is paying any attention to Elvis! Guess the folks didn't know they were buying chicken a la king. Text from: https://www.elvispresleymusic.com.au/pictures/1956-july-3.html

July 4, 1956 - Elvis at Chattanooga train station. This is (most certainly) the moment we talk about below.

Another example Mr. Wertheimer mentioned on being around Elvis and how he was still not quite famous yet by mid 1956, which may bothered him someway - or at least kept him anxious, hopeful and working hard to achieve his goals, is this:

Q: What was your relationship with Elvis like? Alfred: I used him and he used me in a symbiotic way. You see, he was almost at the point where he was being recognized as a national star, but not quite. I'll give you an example. Once, in a railroad station in Chattanooga, Tennessee, we were waiting to change trains. Elvis went over to a magazine rack and picked up a movie magazine. He found a photo of himself inside and says to me 'Al, can I have a pen?' I gave him one and he scribbled his name inside the magazine. Then he goes over to the two girls working at the magazine rack. He had the spread open to his picture, showing it to them. He's also looking back at me with a huge Cheshire Cat grin. Their reaction was 'That'll be 35 cents sir'. (laughing) Elvis said to them 'No, this is for you. I'm Elvis Presley'. Finally the girls agree that it is. In the meantime, I'm capturing pictures of all of this, which is really what Elvis wanted. He knew one day that he would be very famous, and he wanted to capture on film these kinds of moments.

Source: https://www.elvis.com.au/presley/interview-with-photographer-alfred-wertheimer.shtml | Published: August 12, 2023 | Alfred Wertheimer's accounts on Elvis. Note: I recommend you read the full interview.

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

Anyway… That was only normal, given the circumstances but still impressive! Soon, not long after that, Elvis Aaron Presley, the Tupelo country boy, the former truck driver, was "ELVIS PRESLEY, the King of Rock and Roll", and he had all the attention he always hoped for. And it never ceased. Not even death could do anything to stop him from being adored. If he only knew... ♥

1. April 19, 1960 - Elvis greets fans from train door at T&P station in Fort Worth on layover en route to film 'GI Blues' in Hollywood. 2. Backstage in Toronto, ON on April 2, 1957 - Elvis canadian fans

1972.

1956.

[the-winter-spider]

Ghost of you | B.Barnes

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: none? Angst?

Revised version

Inspired by: Ghost of you by 5SOS

Masterlist

Masterpost

——

Steve knew he had to give the picture to Bucky. It was the right thing to do, but that didn’t make it any easier. The image of you had been a constant companion during those long, lonely years, a tangible reminder of a time when life was simpler, when the world wasn’t so heavy on his shoulders. You were Steve's first friend, the one who saw him before the serum, before Captain America, before the weight of the world had settled on his narrow shoulders.

Before Bucky, it was you and Steve against the world. When Bucky came along, the three of you became an inseparable trio. Steve never imagined he’d have friends, let alone friends as extraordinary as you and Bucky. You had a way of bringing light into even the darkest moments, and that picture captured one of those rare, carefree times.

He sat in silence, the photo carefully held in his hands, tucked behind the familiar image of Peggy. Two women who had left indelible marks on his heart, who had shaped the man he had become in different ways. His thumb traced the worn edges, smoothing out the creases that had formed from years of being folded and unfolded, the action as familiar as breathing.

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he gazed at the photo, the memory of that day flooding back in vivid detail. It was a rare moment of peace during a time of chaos, a day when Steve and you had managed to steal a few hours away just the two of you. The sun had been shining, laughter had filled the air.

He could still hear your laugh, that infectious sound that had the power to lift his spirits no matter what. The photo captured your mid-laughter, your eyes crinkled with joy. It was a piece of a past that felt almost like a dream now, something distant and untouchable.

But he knew Bucky needed this more than he did. Bucky had lost so much, been through so much, and Steve knew the pain of clinging to memories of a time that felt like a lifetime ago. Bucky deserved this piece of you, this tangible reminder of the person who had meant so much to both of them. Steve could still see you every time he closed his eyes, still hear your voice in his memories, and that would have to be enough.

With a heavy sigh, Steve carefully folded the picture back up, his fingers lingering on the edges. He wasn’t just giving up a photo; he was passing on a piece of his heart. He slipped the photo into his pocket, knowing he’d hand it over to Bucky when the time was right. But for now, he allowed himself a few more moments with it, letting the memories wash over him like a warm wave, filling the emptiness that so often threatened to consume him.

When he finally stood, he did so with a sense of peace. It wasn’t about letting go; it was about sharing the love and memories with the person who needed it most. And Steve knew, deep down, that Bucky would feel the same connection, the same comfort, when he saw your smiling face in that photo. It was something they could both hold onto, a shared piece of the past that would help them move forward, together.

——

“Oh look! There’s a guy taking pictures. I have to get one for Bucky before he leaves so he can remember me,” Y/n exclaimed, her eyes lighting up with excitement. She tugged on Steve's arm, pulling him toward the photographer.

Steve chuckled, slipping his hand into his pocket as he allowed himself to be dragged along. “I don’t think Bucky will have any trouble remembering you, Y/n,” he teased, a soft smile playing on his lips.

A rosy blush bloomed on Y/n’s cheeks as she playfully nudged Steve. “Oh, zip it, you,” she shot back, though the warmth in her voice betrayed her pleasure at his words.

As they approached the photographer, Y/n waved enthusiastically. “How much for a picture, please?”

The photographer’s eyes swept over her, taking in the sight of her in that beautiful white dress, her hair perfectly curled, and her lips painted a striking red. She was the very picture of elegance and charm. “For you, miss? It’s on the house. Just give me that lovely smile,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of admiration.

Y/n giggled, her laughter like music in the air, and released Steve’s arm to pose for the camera. She struck an effortless smile, one that lit up her entire face, her eyes sparkling with the joy of the moment.

The photographer quickly snapped the photo, and when he handed it to her, she thanked him with a bright grin, even leaning in to give him a playful kiss on the cheek. She then turned to Steve, holding out the picture for him to see. “What’dya think, Stevie?”

Steve took a moment to admire the photo, the way it perfectly captured Y/n’s essence—her beauty, her spirit, her warmth. “Beautiful,” he said softly, his voice filled with sincerity.

Y/n’s hand squeezed his arm affectionately, her expression hopeful. “Think he’ll like it?”

Steve looked down at her, his heart swelling with affection for his two closest friends. “It’s you, Y/n. Of course, he’ll love it.”

He paused, his tone turning more tender. “And if he’s smart, he’ll keep it close to his heart, just like I would.”

——

“Mr. Rogers, Mr. Barnes is back,” FRIDAY’s voice came through the comm system in Steve’s room.

“Thank you,” Steve sighed, knowing it was time. But instead of getting up immediately, he lingered, his eyes fixed on the picture in his hand. It was the only picture he had left of you—tucked safely behind the one of Peggy. You always knew how to light up a room, how to make people smile, but Steve knew that the only person you really wanted to see your smile was Bucky. A dull ache settled in his chest as he thought about the life you and Bucky could have had together if only you both hadn’t been too stubborn to admit your feelings. All those missed chances, wasted dates, and meaningless kisses with other people when it was always so obvious to him that the two of you were soulmates.

“I miss you every day, Y/n,” Steve murmured, his voice cracking slightly as he spoke to the picture of you, your bright smile forever frozen in time.

“Friday, where's Bucky?”

“He’s in the kitchen, Mr. Rogers.”

“Thanks.”

Ever since Bucky had been cleared for missions after his time in Wakanda, Steve had been wanting to touch base with him—especially about you. He knew Bucky was itching to ask if Steve had found any trace of you, any hint of what had happened after he’d gone under. But the truth was, Steve had little to offer. He had spent years searching for anything about you, and when he finally tried to ask Peggy, she always grew cautious, her eyes filled with a pain that told him everything he needed to know. Whatever happened to you wasn’t something she wanted to revisit. In her final days, Peggy had tried to share what little she could, but dementia had stolen those memories from her, leaving Steve with only fragmented pieces of your story. He just hoped it would be enough for Bucky.

“You’ve got to add some sugar to that,” Steve heard Sam teasing Bucky as he approached the kitchen. “Hey, Cap!”

“How was the mission?” Steve asked, keeping his voice steady.

Bucky shrugged, his eyes drifting down to the object in Steve’s hands. “Easy.” But his focus wasn’t on the conversation. “What’s that?”

“You okay, Cap?” Sam’s tone was lighter, but Steve knew he was genuinely concerned.

Steve nodded, taking a breath. “Yeah, uh… sorry. Hey, Buck, you might want to sit down for this.”

Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed, and he took another sip of his coffee. “Why?”

Steve hesitated, glancing between Sam and Bucky. “I have something for you, but… I’m not sure how you’ll react.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, the tension in the room thickening. “You’re starting to annoy me, Steve.”

“That doesn’t take much,” Sam muttered under his breath.

Steve sighed, taking one last look at your picture before reluctantly extending his hand, the photo face down. “Here.”

As Bucky stared at the handwriting on the back of the photo, his heart felt like it had stopped. The familiar scrawl brought back memories he had long tried to bury. His fingers trembled slightly as he turned the photo over, revealing the image of you smiling so brightly, so effortlessly, as if the world hadn’t already begun to unravel around you.

Steve watched his best friend’s face, seeing the mix of emotions playing out in Bucky’s eyes—shock, sadness, longing. Bucky’s tough exterior was beginning to crack, revealing the depth of pain he still carried with him.

Sam noticed the change in Bucky’s demeanor and stepped back, his usual teasing replaced by quiet concern. “Bucky?” he asked, his voice softer than usual.

Bucky didn’t respond immediately. He just kept looking at the picture, his thumb brushing over the worn edges. He remembered the day so vividly now—the way you had playfully insisted on getting a picture taken for him before he shipped out, how you had teased him about never forgetting you, though he knew that was impossible. You were a part of him, a part that had been missing for far too long.

1943

Your best girl,

With love, always,

Y/n

Bucky’s heart slammed against his ribcage as memories came flooding back. He remembered the last time he saw you before he left for the war—how you’d handed him an envelope containing a letter he had read a thousand times, and this picture he thought was lost forever. His breath hitched, and he couldn’t stop the way his eyes welled up, the tears threatening to spill over as he held onto that piece of you he thought was gone for good, he almost forgot what you looked like, almost.

“I… I thought I’d lost this,” Bucky finally murmured, his voice thick with emotion. He glanced up at Steve, his usually stoic expression now filled with vulnerability. “How… how did you find it?”

Steve cleared his throat, struggling to keep his own emotions in check. “It was with some of my things after the war. I’m not even sure how it ended up with me, but I held onto it. I knew it meant something. It took me a long time to figure out what happened to Y/n after… after everything.”

Bucky’s gaze returned to the writing on the back of the picture, terrified to turn it over and see your face, his mind racing. “She was my best girl, Steve. And I never… I never got to tell her. Not the way I should have.”

Steve’s heart ached for his friend. He knew how much Bucky had suffered, how much he had lost. And Y/n was a part of that loss, a piece of Bucky’s heart that had been ripped away by time and war. “She knew, Buck. I’m sure she knew.”

Bucky shook his head slightly, his eyes glistening. “But it wasn’t enough. I should have been there for her. I should have told her every day.”

Sam, sensing the weight of the moment, placed a reassuring hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “She knew you loved her, man, girls know everything”

Bucky’s jaw clenched as he fought to keep his composure, but a single tear escaped, tracing a path down his cheek. He quickly wiped it away, his grip tightening on the photo. “I’ll never forgive myself for not being there,” he whispered, his voice breaking.

Steve placed a hand on Bucky’s other shoulder, his grip firm and steady. “You can’t change the past, Buck.”

Bucky bit his lip, trying to keep his composure, but it was no use. The dam broke, and the tears he had been holding back for so long finally flowed freely. Steve and Sam stayed by his side, giving him the space he needed to grieve, to let out the emotions he had kept locked away for far too long.

“I forgot what she looked like, Steve,” Bucky choked out between sobs. “I can picture her in my mind, but I’m not sure if it’s right. Every time I had a moment of clarity, just a few seconds or minutes away from Hydra’s control, I thought of her. I didn’t want to forget—I couldn’t let myself forget. But what if I did? What if I turn this over and it’s not the her I’ve been holding onto for so long?”

Steve’s heart ached for his friend, but he knew there was nothing he could say to make this pain go away. Instead, he squeezed Bucky’s shoulder, offering him the only comfort he could.

——-

"I'm gonna miss you, Buck," Y/n sniffled, her voice cracking as a tear rolled down her cheek. "You be safe, okay?"

Bucky stepped closer, his heart aching at the sight of her tears. He gently placed his hand on her cheek, wiping away the fallen tear with his thumb. "I'm gonna miss you more, doll… so much more” he whispered, his forehead pressing against hers, his breath warm against her skin. His hands found their way to her hips, pulling her as close as he could, trying to memorise the feel of her, the scent of her hair, and the way her eyes glistened with unshed tears.

“I mean it, James,” Y/n's voice wavered, her hands gripping his coat as if she could anchor him there with her. “P-please get back to me in one piece.”

Bucky swallowed hard, his throat tight. "I'll always find my way back to you, Y/n. You know that. You're my best girl, the only girl for me." His words were a desperate promise, one he was terrified he wouldn’t be able to keep.

Y/n nodded, tears spilling over as she pulled him into a tight hug, burying her face in his chest. She didn’t care if she was being too clingy or if her tears soaked his uniform. All she wanted was to hold onto him for as long as possible. "No dancing till I get back," he murmured into her ear, his voice a low, comforting rumble.

She shivered as his breath tickled her neck, a wave of longing coursing through her. "My feet don’t dance like they do with you."

The sound of commanding voices echoed in the background, signalling that it was time for him to go. Bucky reluctantly pulled away from the hug, his hands lingering on her arms, as if he was trying to delay the inevitable for just a moment longer. His eyes searched hers, silently pleading with her to say what neither of them had been brave enough to admit. He was a soldier, ready to face war, but telling her the truth—that he loved her—was a different kind of battle, one that terrified him to the core.

But Y/n remained silent, her own fear holding her back. Instead, she gave him a brave smile, one that didn’t reach her eyes, as she tried to hold herself together. Bucky took one last, longing look at her before slowly starting to turn away, his hand slipping from hers, the connection between them breaking.

"Wait, Buck!" Her voice trembled as she called after him, and for a split second, his heart leapt. He turned back, hope surging in his chest, thinking this was the moment—the moment she would say what he had longed to hear.

Y/n stood on the tips of her toes, her hands trembling as she reached up to place a soft, lingering kiss on his cheek, her lips barely grazing the edge of his. It was the closest they had ever come to crossing that line, to admitting the truth. She pulled away, her breath shaky, but she forced a reassuring smile as she looked into his eyes.

Bucky took a deep, shaky breath, his heart pounding in his chest. "I lo—" he started, the words finally on the tip of his tongue.

"Tell me when you get back," Y/n interrupted, her voice a whispered plea, because if she heard it she knew she wouldn’t be able to be strong like she promised him she would "I'll be waiting for you, always."

Bucky nodded, his throat too tight to speak, his heart heavy with the words left unsaid. He turned away again, each step feeling like it was tearing him apart. As he walked away, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he should have said it anyway, that he should have told her how he felt before it was too late.

But now, all he could do was hold onto the promise he had made—to come back to her, no matter what. And when he did, he vowed to tell her everything he had been too afraid to say.

As Bucky disappeared into the distance, Y/n watched him go, her heart aching with every step he took. She whispered softly, to no one in particular, "Come back to me, Bucky. Please, come back."

She stood there for a long time after he was gone, the weight of all that was left unspoken hanging in the air between them like a ghost. The war had already taken so much from them both, and as she turned to leave, she couldn’t help but wonder if it would take this too—their chance at a future together, a future where neither of them had to be afraid to say what they really felt.

But deep down, she clung to the hope that he would return, and when he did, they would finally have the courage to say those three words that had been left unsaid for far too long.

——

Bucky’s fingers traced the edges of the photograph, the smooth paper almost too delicate for his touch. He could feel his heart constricting as he stared at your radiant smile, the one that used to light up even the darkest of his days. The memories that came flooding back by just seeing your handwriting were almost too much to bear—every laugh, every stolen glance, every moment he should have seized but didn’t.

He remembers the tears in your eyes the night before he shipped out, tears you tried so hard to hide, thinking you needed to be strong for him. But Bucky had always seen right through you. He knew you wanted to tell him something—he could feel it in the way you clung to him a little longer than usual, in the way your voice trembled when you said goodbye. And God, he wanted to say so much, but the words lodged in his throat, his fears binding him into silence. It was his biggest regret, and one he carried with him through every battle, every long night in the barracks, every silent, cold moment in Hydra’s grasp.

He had wanted to ask Steve about you the moment he regained his memories, the moment he could think clearly again. But something stopped him—the fear of hearing what he couldn’t bear to know. He tried to convince himself that you’d moved on, that you’d found happiness without him. He imagined a life for you, one where you were married to a good man, with two beautiful children—a boy named James and a girl named Elizabeth. He pictured you in a cozy home, a smile on your face, content in a world that was far kinder to you than it had been to him. It was a fantasy that brought him comfort, even though it tore him apart at the same time. Because deep down, all he really wanted was for you to be happy, even if it meant he wasn’t part of that happiness.

But the thought of you losing not just him, but Steve too—he couldn’t fathom what that must have done to you. You were strong, always had been, but even the strongest people have their breaking points. The thought of you, alone, with both of your best friends gone, haunted him. It was a pain he couldn’t process, and one he tried to bury deep inside, even though it never really went away.

Finally, with a trembling breath, Bucky flipped the picture over, his heart tightening as he took in the sight of you. The sparkle in your eyes, that wide, toothy grin that he adored so much—it was all there, perfectly preserved in this small, fragile piece of paper. He almost forgot how beautiful you were, almost. But the memory of you had never really left him, and now, seeing your face again, it was like a knife twisting in his chest. He managed a small, bittersweet smile, his vision blurring as a tear slipped down his cheek. The life he wanted with you—the life he never got, and never would—ached inside him like an open wound.

He kept his eyes locked on your picture. “Do you… uh… have a letter too?”

Steve shook his head, a sorrowful look in his eyes. “Just that.”

Sam, who had been quietly observing, stood up and stretched to get a better look at the picture. “She’s beautiful,” he remarked, his tone softer than usual. “Who is she?”

Bucky opened his mouth to speak, but the words caught in his throat. All he could manage was your name before he let out a weary breath, his eyes never leaving the photograph. The memories came rushing back—those carefree days before the war, when the three of you were inseparable, when the world hadn’t yet shown its cruelest side.

“That’s Y/n,” Steve said, a sad smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “She was my first and only friend until Bucky came along. We were all inseparable after that.” His smile faltered as he glanced at Bucky, who was still lost in the past. “Those two were in love, both too stubborn to do anything about it.”

Sam smiled, but there was an edge of melancholy to it. “Sounds like she was something special.”

“She was everything,” Bucky croaked out, his voice breaking as he finally tore his eyes away from the picture to look at Steve. “She still is.” His voice was barely above a whisper, raw with emotion. “What happened, after… you know…”

Steve’s gaze dropped to the floor, his heart heavy with the burden of what he had to say. “We should sit,” he said quietly, gesturing toward the chairs at the table.

Bucky hesitated, a cold dread creeping into his chest. He had imagined so many scenarios, so many possibilities, but now, faced with the reality of hearing the truth, he wasn’t sure he was ready. Still, he followed Steve’s lead, his legs feeling like they might give out beneath him as he moved to sit down. Sam watched them both, the air thick with tension, as Steve prepared to tell Bucky what he had been holding back for so long.

As they sat down, Bucky felt the weight of your picture in his hand, a tangible connection to the past that was slipping further and further away. He wasn’t sure what he feared more—that you had moved on without him, or that you hadn’t, and that the war had taken everything from you too. But whatever Steve was about to say, Bucky knew one thing for certain: it was going to change everything.

[mercurygguk]

winter soldier | jjk

genre; winter soldier/avengers au, angst/smut/fluff

pairing; winter soldier!jungkook x avenger!female reader

summary; the love of your life died during ww2, they honored his death. you had never imagined you’d ever see him again until you’d join him in death, but here he is and he’s trying to kill you. he’s not himself at all. you, however, insist that the man you used to know is still in there somewhere.

word count; 6,764

warnings; descriptions of war/battle/fight scenes, descriptions of scars, the rest of the avengers joins the party, reader is like Cap A but not like Cap A, you know??, jungkook looking hella hot with his long hair and steel arm, inspiration from ‘captain america: winter soldier’, swearing, SMUT; explicit sexual activities, oral (f. receiving), love making at its highest- nothing kinky, just plain ol’ sex

a/n; okay so um, i’m binge-watching the avengers movies atm and i was watching Captain America: Winter Soldier. i kid you not, throughout the entire movie i was imagining what jungkook would look like as the winter soldier- jungkook combined with superheroes is like the perfect story, amirite?? ;)) enjoy!

ps. once again, i didn’t proof read so ignore my possible mistakes lol

(for reference, this is what jungkook’s hair looks like in this fic)

War.

Terrorizing. Horrifying. Absolutely petrifying.

There are several words to use when talking about it, describing it, reliving it. Once you’ve experienced it, it will haunt you till the day you die and even beyond that. There isn’t much positive to take from it, not many positive memories come to you as you think back to the time during war. Only one positive memory returns to you from those dark times...

Him.

Him who did not fit in with the military services due to his lack of strength and speed. Him who never let anyone step upon him and evolved with the job. Him who never backed down from a challenge or an order given from the highest ranks. Him who had braveness unlike anyone, loyalty like no other, a will to fight for what’s worth it and to win. Him who made you fall for him without meaning to. Him who promised he would always come back to you, no matter what happened.

And then one day he didn’t. They had told you he went down in the fight, died for his country, for his team. He hadn’t hesitated to sacrifice himself, thrown himself towards the threat in the hopes of ending it for everyone once and for all. That he did. He killed himself in the process of saving everyone else.

A hero is what they had called him. Honored his name, saluting as they all stood facing his military photograph, serious faces and emotionless eyes all over. Tears had filled your eyes that day, but they didn't fall. You refused to let them. There was no way you would cry because of a liar. A coward, really. Anger kept you going, anger aimed at him. A rage so intense that you would convince yourself that you hated him. Some people would call you selfish, selfish for hating a man who sacrificed himself for everyone else. They were right. You were selfish. But love makes you selfish, and you loved him. So ridiculously much.

Years later, decades into the new century he remains as a positive yet heartbreaking and frustrating memory in your mind and heart. You haven’t aged a day thanks to the advanced technology and the project you offered to be the experiment of, in the end of the war. After his death and the war seeming more out of control than ever, you thought there wasn’t much more to live for, so you volunteered. A successful masterpiece, professor Kim had said as you regained consciousness on the lab table. You were his greatest, most succeeded experiment. You still are, except for the fact that Kim Namjoon is no longer walking among people on earth.

Now you’re living as the successful masterpiece he has created. Stronger, faster – young too even though your real age is something near 98. It doesn’t show. You look like any other 23-year-old but with extraordinary strength and speed. Being a part of a team as the Avengers truly has given you a meaning of life, a purpose that you didn’t feel you had before joining this outstanding team of superheroes as some would call you.

But as you stand here, in the middle of a battlefield that is scarily similar to those back in the 1940’s, you feel small. Gunshots fire around you, flying past your head and ringing in your ears. Explosions going off from the shots fired by Stark, Iron Man as he’s known as. The grounds breaking from the power of Thor’s hammer, the bad guys falling like flies in the hands of Widow. You’re watching it all unfold, breathing for a split second as robots are charging at you with red, glowing eyes.

For God’s sake, just how many of these are there?

Keeping yourself from rolling your eyes in pure annoyance, you set off running towards them with an unmatched speed, fists up and ready to take them out. One goes down after another, surrendering to your very angry, very powerful fists. Your patience is running thin as the robots keep appearing from left and right, setting their focus on you as demanded by whoever’s controlling them. A person you haven’t managed to find yet, but determined to hunt down and put a bullet through their head.

“Hey, Thor!” You call out to the nordic God flying around you, punching fists through robots and throwing his hammer at them. He glances your way, finding you surrounded by robots, too many for you to fight by yourself. “A lil hand here?”

He nods in response, immediately dropping to the ground and plunging his hammer into the asphalt on the ground, lightning seeping through the ground and into the robots, taking them down and splitting them in half. Thor throws a smug smirk at you before turning back around to fight another round of robots. You roll your eyes, about to run off when shots are being fired at you.

“Shit!” You hiss, running to hide behind a tipped-over truck while fishing out a gun from the strap around your thigh. You lean out, aiming in the direction of the shots. There is a man with long, dark hair, a black mask covering half his face and a silver arm that does not look familiar at all. The mysterious man steps onto the railing of the bridge he fired shots from, hard glare focused on you as he steps out and lets himself fall to the ground beneath the bridge. He lands on his feet, supporting himself with the silver fist into the asphalt. He stands to his height, walking straight towards you and leaving a mark in the asphalt where he had landed. Your eyes widen as he holds up a machine gun, opening fire at you as you scramble to run off while loading more shots into your gun.

Peeking around the corner of the brick building you’re hiding behind, you hold your gun up to aim at him. You fire a bullet, hitting his silver arm. He doesn’t budge, the bullet not even leaving a bump in the silver.

“What the-” you gape, firing shots again. He holds his silver hand up, the bullets bouncing off like they’re made of cotton, still walking towards you with eyes focused on you. There’s something about him that seems familiar – maybe his build? Or the way he walks? Or was it the slightly curly hair on top of his head? You can’t quite pin it as you watch him get closer, fists clenched tightly at his sides as if he’s ready to throw punches at you. You contemplate running to him, throwing the first punch at him before he gets to you. There is a slight hesitancy in your body as you can’t shake off how awfully familiar he seems the closer he gets to you. Knowing what the right thing to do is, you step out from your hiding spot, collecting all strength as you charge at him. A yell of anger and confusion rumbles from your chest as you jump on the last step, fist pulled back only for it to be forced forward and into the center of the mysterious man’s chest.

He stumbles back slightly, gaining his balance quickly before he steps closer, throwing a punch at you as well. You dodge, throwing your leg into his side in a strong kick. He grunts as he catches your leg, pulling on it to force you towards him. You ram into him, his clenched fist connecting with your jaw. You groan in pain as you fall to the ground, landing before his feet. Squinting at him, you watch as he kneels down over you, holding you down against the ground. As he stares at you, raising his hand to deliver a punch to your face again, you realize it as your eyes meet his. You gasp softly, not believing the sight in front of you. It’s a known fact that you would recognize those deep, brown eyes anywhere in any given moment.

“J-Jungkook?”

The sound of your voice, the sound of his name falling from your lips has him freezing for a split second. His eyes shift between yours as he slowly begins to sink his fist. But not even seconds later he’s raising his fist again and that’s when you can tell that he does not recognize you. He is looking at you as if you’re a complete stranger, like he didn’t spend the last year of his life telling you that he loved you more than life itself.

His gaze fills with the only feeling he feels, hatred. He moves to force his silver fist down and into your face, a face he used to call beautiful as he traced his finger tips along the edges. You barely dodge it, trying your very best to meet his eyes again as you call his name.

“Jungkook!” You fight the tears that are brimming your eyes as you continue to dodge his hits the best you can, “Hey! It’s me!”

He’s not holding off, continuing to throw punches at you and hitting the asphalt as you squirm in between his thighs. He’s impeccably strong, the asphalt cracking under the jabs of his fists. His thighs are keeping you in place as he pins you to the ground, your arms locked along your sides. You know he’ll punch you to death if you don’t get inside his head. It seems nearly impossible as his eyes are trained on you, emotionless and angry, only a small glimt of the man you used to know in them.

“____! Might wanna duck down a bit,” Tony shouts as he flies in your direction, his glowing hand aimed at Jungkook.

Your eyes widen in horror as you scramble together all the strength you have, throwing Jungkook off you and away from the deathly ray of light coming from Tony’s palm.

“No!”

The shot hits the asphalt a few meters away from you, nearly grazing Jungkook but it doesn’t, thankfully. Tony is shocked as he comes to a halt in the air, staring between Jungkook and you. You wave a hand at him. “I got him,” you assure him as you pant out breaths of air, nodding towards Widow and Thor, “go help the others.”

The man in the iron suit in front of you seems to hesitate for a second as he looks at you. He catches the pleading look on your face, glancing back at Jungkook for a moment before nodding at you once and flying in the direction of Widow and Thor, aiming his shots at the robots that are still coming from all sides. You turn your attention back to Jungkook, the body of the love of your life but not the eyes or mind of him.

“Jungkook,” you try again, slowly stepping closer as he stays still, slightly shocked that you had saved him from Iron Man’s deadly shot, “it’s me, ____.”

You’re begging, tone pleading him and hands up in surrender as you slowly step closer to him. He’s breathing hard, chest rising and falling in deep breaths. His eyes are dark, cold and distant as you get even closer. He’s frozen in his spot. He seems confused behind that hard expression, confused because you look less terrified than you did before realizing who he is. He doesn’t flinch or move away from your hand as it inches closer to his face, reaching for the black mask on his face.

“Hey,” you softly say, hesitating to touch him as you let a single tear escape and roll down your cheek. Something flashes in his eyes as he looks into your wet eyes, a small hint of recognition, familiarity too. Maybe he remembers. You hope he does. He lets you pull the black mask off completely, the strong line of his jaw appearing in front of you as well as his pink lips you used to kiss so often in that hidden place you liked to meet almost every night. “It’s me,” you whisper, “it’s ____.”

You’re afraid you’re imagining things as tears build up in the corner of his eyes, his jaw tightening. It’s too much for him. The memories returning with full force, the emotions filling his chest and warming it for the first time in 70 years. He wants to cry. He doesn’t know whether it's happiness because you’re right here in front of him, after he thought he would never get to see you again as he took his last breath back in 1944, or sadness because he’s well aware that he almost killed you if you hadn’t pushed him off you.

“____?” His voice betrays him as it cracks, your name coming out in a croaked voice. More tears escape as you hear your name falling from his lips for the first time since that morning in the military camp where he said ‘see you soon’ and then never returned. He freezes as you throw yourself at him, arms wrapped around him as you pull him closer in a tight hug. The sniffles and muffled cries you let out breaks his emotionless, cold heart and filling it with a warmth he hasn’t felt in so long. A tear escapes from the corner of his eye as he lets his own arms snake their way around your waist, hugging you just as tight as you hug him.

Relief.

That’s what he’s feeling.

Jungkook wanders around inside Stark’s office, eyes exploring things as he calmly runs his silver hand over them. You watch him from a few feet away, arms crossed over your chest. Worry is filling your entire body as his back is turned to you. He still doesn’t seem like himself. There is something about him that makes you anxious, something about him makes you wonder if he’ll turn at any moment, falling back into whatever sort of amnesia he has been experiencing for the past decades.

You jump in surprise when the door opens beside you, revealing Tony. He notices your jumbled state, giving you a small, half smile. You turn your eyes back to Jungkook who’s picking at an ancient-looking sculpture on Tony’s desk causing Tony to take a step closer.

“Hey! Buddy!” He calls out, catching Jungkook’s attention. “Don’t touch that, please. It’s antique.”

Jungkook steps away from the desk, hands up in mock surrender, emptiness in his eyes as if he couldn’t care less about Tony’s antique sculpture. No one really cared about that sculpture. It’s doomed to break at some point when it’s placed in his office, in the Avengers building.

“Tony,” you catch the attention of the older man, looking straight at him with hopeful, desperate eyes, “can you help him?”

He turns to face Jungkook, looking him over from head to toe. “Friday, give me a scan of whatever’s controlling Jungkook.”

Anticipated, you wait while biting a nail. Jungkook doesn’t move an inch as Friday scans him for anything to help Tony figure out a way to help. He’s glancing from Tony to you, his eyes meeting yours. Seconds. It takes seconds from his stare meeting yours to something flicking behind his dark brown irises, something inside of him snapping like the tips of someone’s fingers. Your eyes widen in panic as you move to stand between Tony and Jungkook.

“Tony!” You shout, moving fast as you try to get in between the two men. Tony has already activated his iron hand, catching Jungkook’s silver fist right before it hits him square in the face. You come to a halt, staring in surprise as Tony tightens his hold on Jungkook’s fist, forcing him to the ground. “Tony, please, don’t hurt him. He’s not in his right mind!”

“Oh, really?” Tony scoffs, sarcasm dripping from each word. A small yelp leaves your mouth as Tony kicks his knee up under Jungkook’s jaw, knocking him out. Jungkook falls limp to the floor, eyes closed as he’s kicked unconscious by Tony. You kneel down beside him, brushing his long strands of hair out of his face. He looks peaceful as he lays there, completely unconscious, and yet there’s a furrowed look on his face, like he’s never free from whatever that is controlling him. You sigh deeply, head dropping as you cradle Jungkook’s hand in your own. Tony’s palm rests on your shoulder. You glance up at him. He gives you a small, reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry, we’ll help him,” he tells you. You nod, knowing he spoke the truth.

“Thank you.”

The frustrated look and furrowed eyebrows are gone. He looks genuinely peaceful this time, long lashes resting on the top of his cheeks as he rests beneath the sheets on your bed. You can’t help yourself as you reach out, palm cupping his cheek, your thumb brushing over his cheekbone in a soft caress. Hopefully you’ll have the love of your life back once he wakes up from the deep sleep Tony put him in.

You’re about to move away, retrieving your hand from his cheek just as you hear him whimper softly. Turning back to him, you watch as his lower lip begins to quiver, eyebrows furrowed tightly together. “No,” he whimpers again, head shaking in his sleep. “Please, no! Don’t!”

Worry fills you once again as you sit on the edge of the bed beside him, hands cupping his face between them. “Jungkook,” you softly call, trying your best to wake him without startling him. “Jungkook, my love, please wake up. Please!”

Startled, you gasp as his eyes shoot open, his lips parting as he gasps for air. He’s looking right into your startled, widened eyes. It takes a minute for him to realize who you are and where he is, the surroundings not seeming familiar at all, but it feels nice. The aura, the warmth and the dimmed lighting in the bedroom where he’s tucked under the sheets.

“Hey,” you breathe out as you smile, not sure what to say to him. Tony had made sure to help him, get whatever that was controlling him out of him, his head to himself now and slowly filling with memories, both good and bad ones. “How are you feeling?”

He groans as he moves to sit up. You help him straighten up, making sure he has a pillow for his back as he leans back against the head of the bed. He closes his eyes tightly together as he drops his head back, still trying to calm his erratic breathing. You sit back in the chair you had pulled to the bedside when you got here.

“I feel…” he begins, words feeling foreign on his tongue as he speaks with a croaking voice. He sighs deeply. This is a lot for his head to take in in just one day. “I feel like my head is about to explode.”

Your smile is careful as you look at him. “Makes sense,” you softly say, watching him glance at his arm only to notice the silver is still there, like he had hoped it would be gone. It’s easy to tell the arm itself is a symbol of a very dark time as he looks at it and then looks away from it. He isn’t fond of the silver arm, obviously having a love-hate relationship with it as it has given him power and strength he never had to begin with and problems he never voluntarily wanted in the first place. There’s pain in his eyes as he glances at you, shame as he cowers under your gaze.

You frown deeply. “What happened to you?” You ask, voice barely above a whisper. He closes his eyes, not really wishing to go back to those dark times where his life was saved and changed for the worse. The dark times where he became a shadow of himself and a manipulated soldier, brainwashed to take orders from others.

“I, uh, I don’t think-“ he stumbles over his words.

You place your hand over his actual hand, your thumb brushing the skin there. He glances at where you’re touching him before looking up at you. You’re hurting, it’s easy to see. It’s not your own pain though, it’s his. You’re feeling pain for him, hurting because he went through things he never should have, things where death would’ve been much less painful. You want to kiss him, kiss it all better if that was possible.

“You can tell me,” you whisper, pleading him to confide in you, to tell you what happened to him all those years ago.

He sighs deeply, turning his hand over to wrap it around yours. A rush runs through your stomach as he grips onto your hand with a hold so tight that you find yourself promising him silently that you’ll never let go again by giving his hand a small squeeze.

“They found me a few days later,” he starts, gaze focusing on the way yours and his fingers intertwine with each other like they’re meant to do it, “in the ruins of buildings. I-I wasn’t fully awake when they did, only just coming to my senses again after the explosion that was meant to kill me.”

You’re focusing on his hand in yours now, not able to look into his eyes as he tells the story of how he ended up here, 70 years later, and still looking like himself but with longer hair and impeccable strength.

“I didn’t recognize them. They wouldn’t tell me anything. They took me to this place, a bunker or something like that. There was this huge laboratory inside with equipment way ahead of its time,” he looks confused as he relives the horrifying moments, “I was placed in a chair and the next thing I know they’re sawing my arm off-“

You whimper. “Oh, god,” tears dwell in your eyes as you grip his hand tightly.

“____, I have never felt as much pain as I did that day,” he looks you straight in the eye, the pain from that day flashing over his face as he recalls it, the feeling of it. “And all I could think about while they turned me into this- this monster… was that I lied to you.”

You shake your head in denial. “No, Jungkook,” you whisper, “you couldn’t know. You couldn’t.”

He offers you a small half-smile, remorse covering his features as he reaches up with his silver hand, careful as he lets the fingertips of it brush your hair out of your face.

“I’m sorry I gave you an empty promise,” he whispers, silver fingertips brushing against the side of your face. You cover it with your own hand, letting him cup your face in the cold silver. He leans closer, hissing lightly as pain shoots up the side of his torso. “I’m sorry that I didn’t come back to you like I promised.”

“You did though,” you sigh deeply, resting your forehead against his. “You’re right here.”

He nods softly, his eyes shifting between yours.. “and I won’t leave again,” he assures you before hesitating, shrugging as he adds; “unless you want me to.”

You chuckle through the tears that had built up in your eyes. He’s smiling at you as you reach up to cup his face in your palms, brushing your thumb across his cheeks. He’s watching you, still not quite believing that you’re here with him. After so long. 70 years of wondering if you’re still alive. 70 long years of wondering where you were in the world. 70 unbearable years of longing for your touch, your soft, plump lips that made his heart stop beating for a few seconds each time they would touch his in a kiss.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you,” he whispers into the small gap of air space between you and him. “Each time I’d return from a mission and become myself again after being under mind-control, you were the first thing on my mind. To be honest, I don’t think you ever left it. You’ve always been there with me, in the deepest parts of my consciousness. You kept me sane during the missions, kept me from forgetting myself completely.”

Listening intently, you close your eyes as your thumbs continue to brush over the skin on his cheeks. He continues, a deep sigh falling from his lips and clashing against yours causing goosebumps to rise upon your body. You’re shocked that you have gone this far without smothering him in kisses. You don’t want to risk anything, waiting patiently for him to make the first move in the direction of more physical affection, whether it’s a touch of his hand, a hug or more.

“And when I realized it was you earlier today...” his voice cracks, “when I realized I almost killed you- I don’t think I can ever forgive myself for that.”

“You can and you will,” you softly tell him, the undertone of your voice stern, “you didn’t kill me. You wouldn’t. You were gonna recognize me sooner or later.”

He exhales shakily. “You don’t know that,” he almost snaps, eyes closed tightly as he drops his silver hand from your face. He pulls away from your touch, the warmth of him disappearing the further he moves away. He’s not looking at you. Tears are threatening to spill as you stare back at him, lips slightly parted as you want to speak up. You want to tell him he’s wrong, but you already know that he will not take your words for what they are. He, and you, know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t pushed him off when you did.

“You’re right,” you say, catching his attention again. He barely glances at you, noticing the small remnants of tears in your eyes before looking back at his silver hand, clenching and unclenching it. A tear rolls down your cheek. “You’re so right, Jungkook. I don’t know if you would or not.”

You get up from the chair you’ve been sitting in since you brought him back to your apartment. Jungkook still refuses to look at you as you move onto the bed, crawling closer to him. You don’t hesitate as you lay a hand on his shoulder and throw a leg over his to straddle his lap. He finally looks at you, eyes slightly widened at your actions. His eyes meet teary ones again, his silver arm moving out of an old habit as he reaches up to wipe your tears away.

“But I like to think you would.”

Your lips press against his before he can reply to your words. Jungkook gasps and then grunts in response as you press your mouth to his, desperately and needy. His body freezes beneath you as you kiss him, tasting his lips for the first time in an unbearably long time. It takes him a while to realize that you’re kissing him, finally kissing you back as he cradles you in his arms, pulling you closer to his chest. The silver arm keeps a tight grip around your waist, holding you in place as the other runs up your thigh.

Pulling away, you gasp for air, letting your forehead rest against his. Jungkook is breathing heavily, his breath once again clashing against yours as you both catch your breath. Your eyes meet, seconds after he’s kissing you again, your tank top riding up as the silver arm keeps you tight against him. The silver touching your skin causes goosebumps to cover your skin, a chill running up your spine as you cup his face. His tongue licks against your bottom lip, you let him in. A moan escapes your lips as his tongue touches yours.

“I’ve been holding myself back ever since you woke up,” you whisper against his lips, making him smile as his hands slide under your top, pushing it up before pulling it over your head completely. You return to his lips, catching them with your own as you reach for the hem of his t-shirt. He helps you pull it off, your mind elsewhere as you throw it onto the floor. Your hands rake down his body, over the tensing muscles of his abdomen as he moves his kisses down your cheek and further under your jaw. Your breathing is ragged as you pull away, only a few inches so you can glance down at his torso. The sight horrifies you, your fingertips brushing over scars and healed wounds.

“Oh my god,” you whisper as you glance up at Jungkook, his eyes meeting yours for a few seconds before you look back at his chest. Your eyes wander, over his both small and larger scars to his silver arm. You feel your heart tightening as you take in the way the silver arm is sewed onto his body. You hesitate to reach up, Jungkook’s eyes on you as you let your shaking fingertips brush over the burned, scarred skin that keeps the silver arm attached. “I- This…”

His human hand comes up to cup your cheek, thumb caressing your skin. “I know,” he agrees without hearing the rest of the sentence. You look back at him, finding relief in his eyes as you rest your palms against his chest. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” he then says.

“They literally cut off your arm,” you point out, shaking your head in disbelief. You can’t even imagine how much pain he must’ve been in when they did this to him. “I wish I could have spared you this pain, spared you the torture you went through.”

He smiles softly. “I know, ____. But there's no way you possibly could’ve.”

You're carefully running your pointer finger along one of his scars when you look up at him, eyelashes framing your eyes so perfectly. He thinks you’re absolutely beautiful, even more so than the last time he saw you. You can’t do anything to stop the words that tumble from your lips next.

“I love you so much, Jungkook.”

His breathing stops for a second, his heart skipping a beat. He hasn’t heard those words since 1944. He didn’t even hear those words that morning you had sent him off, he hadn’t said those words when he promised to return. He should have. That way you’d never be in doubt of his love. He wonders if you’ve loved him since or if there has been anyone else in the meantime to love you the way he should’ve.

Silently, you watch him as his thoughts run one hundred miles per hour. Your palms are sliding from his chest to his shoulders and further up his neck to cup his face again. The love he feels is evident in his eyes as he focuses on you.

“I love you,” he whispers, carefully turning you over onto your back only for him to hover over you. You’re watching him, tingling in your stomach as you hear the words fall from his lips. He returns to kissing you, kissing the skin on your cheek, your neck and further down to the very top of your chest, right beneath the collarbones. He glances up at you as he kisses his way down the valley of your bra-covered chest. “I didn’t say it enough back then,” he mouths against your skin, another round of goosebumps rising beneath his lips, “I should have said it more. I’m sorry.”

You exhale deeply, arching your back into his touch as he reaches your navel and moves even further down to the waistband of your pants, your spandex pants that you so elegantly wear whenever you have a mission with the Avengers.

“Stop apologizing,” you breathe out, eyes closed as you succumb to his touch. The silver hand brushes over your stomach as it runs up to your chest, unclasping your bra on the front. It falls to the sides, revealing your perky nipples to the crisp air. You gasp softly as a silver hand brushes over both, the cold steel doing nothing but erecting them even more. “I've always hated it when you apologize.”

He smirks softly against your lower stomach, pressing one last kiss to the skin there before pulling the silver hand down to pull off your pants, and panties too. The pants are barely on the floor before he returns to your lower abdomen, kisses being spread across your hip bones and pubic bone. You reach down to tangle your fingers in his long hair as he runs his hands up the inside of your thighs. He spreads your legs, revealing your throbbing core to him.

“God, I missed this,” he breathed out, the air of his words hitting your wet folds. “Having you like this, all to myself.”

You whine from above him. “Jungkook,” you whimper, “please.”

It doesn’t take more for him to lean closer, tongue licking a stripe up between your folds and to your clit, his silver arm sliding across your abdomen to keep you down as he eats you out for the first time in decades. One would think he had lost his touch and knowledge of a woman’s body, but you can say that he certainly didn’t as he roots himself between your legs, tongue licking your wetness and prodding at the entrance.

“Oh god,” you moan, softly gasping for air as his human hand rests on top of your one thigh, fingers digging into the flesh there. You’re in heaven, on the ninth cloud as he slurps your arousal, licking your folds and clit as if his life depended on it. “Fuck, Jungkook!”

The sound of your name toppling from your lips as he hits a certain nerve makes his body flush with a warmth he almost forgot what feels like. You’re writhing in the tight hold of his silver arm, squirming as he licks you to your release. The orgasm is approaching fast and hard, Jungkook being the sole reason for it. No one could ever get you there as fast as him.

“I’m s-so close- oh!,” you pant, your walls clenching as Jungkook’s actual fingers slide into you. He pumps his hand in and out of you in a pace that is perfectly building up your orgasm. He takes nothing but a glance into his eyes as he leans down to softly kiss your clit that you’re toppling over, hitting the wall of your orgasm. “J-jungkook, my god!”

You jerk away as he leans forward, tongue licking up your release, tasting it on his taste buds. He hums with a small smile as he glances up at you, loving the way your eyes are almost bulging out of your head at the sight of him between your thighs. It takes nothing more than a few seconds before you shitting up, Jungkook meeting you halfway in a kiss. Tongues clash against each other, the taste of you on his tongue as he kisses you deeply, needingly.

“Please fuck me,” you mumble in between kisses, a desperate whining tone attached to your words. “Make love to me, Jungkook.”

He seals your words with a kiss, giving you a silent promise of doing just that. As if he’d lick you out and that would be it. No way.

You watch, teeth biting into your bottom lip, as he gets off the bed to remove the sweatpants you had dressed him in when you got back, getting him out of those military pants with belts and buckles all over them. His cock springs free, slaps against his abdomen as it stands proud into the air. A rush runs through your stomach at the sight, mouth slightly watering. Once the sweatpants and his boxers lie on the floor by his feet, he crawls back onto the bed. He moves closer, pushing you back onto your back as he hovers over you. You’re glancing at his silver arm for a mere split second, your hair reaching up to run along the hard edges of it. Jungkook can’t feel your touch but he’d like to imagine that he can as he watches your palm brushing over and further up to the nape of his neck. His eyes move back to lock with yours. You’re looking at him just like you did that last night of intimacy you had back in 1944, the night before he was sent off on a deathly mission. A huge wave of emotions hits him as he glances from your eyes to your lips and back again.

“I love you,” he softly says, eyebrows furrowed together as he looks at you, “so much, ____.”

You smile, pulling him down to meet you in a kiss. The kisses are soft, tender even as he reaches down to line himself up with your entrance. You gasp into his mouth as the tip of his cock prods at your folds. A hand of yours tangles back into his locks as he pushes inside, the tightness overwhelming for the both of you. He rests his forehead against yours, your breaths clashing together between you as he buries himself to the hilt.

“Shit,” he hisses, glancing down at your connecting hips. “Can i move?”

You nod your head, whispering, “yes.”

Jungkook watches the way your eyes roll to the back of your head as he pulls out and pushes back in, the sight causing him to do it again and again, wanting to see you lose yourself and succumb to the feeling of his cock brushing against your walls.

“Oh fuck!” You gasp as he gives you a particularly hard thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin as he hits that exact spot that makes you whimper out a soft, whiny moan. You’re clawing at his shoulders, his neck and chest as he sets a rhythm, keeping it steady as he grinds into you. He grabs your leg with his silver hand, helping you to wrap it around his waist. The other follows suit, locking with your other behind his back. He hits deep inside of you, his veiny cock sliding against your walls so deliciously.

It’s like that last night you had with him all over again just with more longing and more desperate kisses. Your stomach tingles with the overwhelming amount of emotions you’re feeling in this exact moment as you look up at him – his long hair slightly damp at the roots, his toned chest glistening in sweat as he works you both to a release, to a high you’re both so desperately in the need of.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans as you unawarely clench around his length, his head dropping to your shoulder. “Don’t do that or I’ll cum right now.”

“Sorry!” You squeak, chuckling as he eyes you with a small smirk. God, you wanna ride him so badly. “Oh, Jungkook,” you moan breathily as he hits your spot again. He’s watching you, eyes running over your face as it contorts in pure pleasure.

“Fuck, I’m close,” he grunts, leaning up on his hands to get a better angle. He rams his hips into you, his strength coming to show as he thrusts into you harder than ever before. The power of his thrusts have you seeing stars as your second orgasm nears you. Jungkook can feel it as you clinch repeatedly around him. He won’t last much longer if you continue to do that.

High pitched moans tumble from your parted lips as he speeds up his movements, desperately trying to get you over the edge before he topples over himself. Your nails are digging into his shoulders as you reach your high, the orgasm hitting you like a bullet.

“Oh my fucking god,” you moan, breathing ragged as he continues to fuck you to get himself to cum. His breathing is uneven, not matching his thrusts as all as he moves in and out a few more times before stilling inside of you, spilling his load and painting your walls inside.

“Fuck, I love you,” he breathes out as he drops his forehead to your collarbone. You’re smiling widely as you run your fingers from his shoulders and up into his hair. He lifts his head to look at you as you push his long, brown hair out of his face. You know him too well when he gives you a look, a small smirk on his lips. A joke is coming. You can just feel it. And you can’t help but grin at him as everything feels exactly like 1944 again. Also, you want to punch him for his next words:

“Not too bad for a 98-year-old, huh?”

all rights reserved © mercurygguk (with help from marvel studios *wink* )

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Moments and Text from Gavin’s Gym Date

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for content which has not been released in EN! 🍒

These accompany Gavin’s Gym Date!

Gavin’s Post: I lost a glove while getting off the train.

MC: Haha, you can try sewing a safety cord on your gloves!

Gavin: In that case, both of them might get lost next time. 

-

Gavin’s Post: I lost a glove while getting off the train.

MC: Out with the old and in with the new. Just treat it as though your misfortune has vanished too~

Gavin: Mm. I’ll buy a new pair another day which has the same print as yours.

-

Gavin’s Post: I lost a glove while getting off the train.

MC: I have three solo gloves at home.

Gavin: It’s a pity that the styles aren’t the same. Otherwise, we could put them together to form two pairs.

Gavin’s Post: Found a certificate from a sports meet during junior high.

MC: Did you keep a photograph of the moment you collected the certificate?!

Gavin: ...yes, but my back was facing the camera.

-

Gavin’s Post: Found a certificate from a sports meet during junior high.

MC: Was it a certificate? Or a stack of certificates?

Gavin: There were quite a number. We’ll count them together next time.

-

Gavin’s Post: Found a certificate from a sports meet during junior high.

MC: Let me guess. You must have been the long-distance champion!

Gavin: You guessed wrongly - it was for shot put. But I also had a certificate for long-distance running.

TEXTS

[ Scenario One ]

Gavin: In that photo you sent, did the water in your bathtub turn green?

MC: That’s right~ I put a bath bomb into the bathtub, and the water gradually turned this colour!

Gavin: I thought I was seeing things.

Gavin: Is this a new product?

MC: Kiki recommended it to me! I heard that it releases a relaxing fragrance, which is why I wanted to give it a try.

Gavin: From the colour in the photo, it’s a little difficult to imagine how it smells.

Gavin: Did it lift your mood?

MC: Mm! Next time, you can use it too~

Gavin: Cough. I don’t need it.

Gavin: But I’m on a break tomorrow, so let’s go shopping tomorrow.

Gavin: There should be other bath bomb scents that you’d like.

[ Scenario Two ]

Gavin: In that photo you sent, did the water in your bathtub turn green?

MC: Were you given a scare?! Actually, I put a bath bomb into the water~

Gavin: I didn’t get a scare. Just a little surprised.

Gavin: It’s rare for you to use such products.

MC: Actually, I don’t know much about it. When I was buying shampoo, the employee gave it to me, so I just used it.

Gavin: I think you really like it.

Gavin: You’ve already made two consecutive posts on Moments about it.

MC: Mm! Bathing products have been very creative lately~

Gavin: I heard from those at the STF that bath salts have been pretty popular recently.

Gavin: Let’s go shopping over the weekend.

Gavin: We might come across even more interesting things.

[ Scenario Three ]

Gavin: In that photo you sent, did the water in your bathtub turn green?

MC: That’s right! It wasn’t a filter this time, but the effects of a bath bomb~

Gavin: It’s pretty unique. It looks like the leftover water after you cooked spinach the other time.

Gavin: Aside from the colour, are there any other special effects?

Gavin: I don’t know about such these things.

MC: When I was scrolling through video clips, I came across its very interesting effects, so I bought it to give it a try!

Gavin: Are you referring to that clip you sent me the other time? I remember it now.

Gavin: But the colours in the video seemed to be more complex.

MC: Mm! I’m already deciding on which bath bomb colour to use next time~

Gavin: Whatever colour you like is good.

Gavin: We can pick them out at the shop together.

[beauvibaby]

all I could ever want – t.seguin

a/n: part 2 of there won’t be anyone else!! I definitely prefer the first part of this story, but I also love this one because it’s just straight fluff 😌

Word count: 2.9k

“Mommy!” Willow squealed in delight, running into the kitchen to see you, Tyler had picked her up from preschool on his way home from practice. “Willow!” You mimicked, laughing as she hugged your legs, “did you have a good day?” You asked with a grin, Tyler chuckled, “Miss Laura is having a baby.” Tyler spoke for her. Willow nodded excitedly, “aw, that’s great.” You smiled, hoisting Willow up to sit on the counter. “I want you to have a baby, mommy.” She spoke honestly, giving her dad a weird look when he choked on his water, you snickered at him. “Maybe.” You shrugged her comment off, thankful for her short attention span, she was asking to go play with the dogs as she wiggled her way into your arms to be put down on the ground. “Go ahead.” Tyler nodded her off and she went barreling towards the living room where the dogs were innocently napping, poor boys.

“What was that reaction for?” You asked once it was just the two of you, he mumbled something under his breath, “talk like an adult, Tyler.” You teased him, resting a hand on your hip as you gave him a stern look. “I just didn’t think she was going to want a sibling, she loves having all the attention.” He sighed, “plus my baby is too little to want another baby in the house.” He pouted dramatically. Ah, the real reasoning coming out. “Yeah, but you always said you wanted more kids, and you know I would be happy with a full house, so.” You trailed off, kind of disappointed by his lackluster reaction. “You still want to have more kids right?” You asked when he didn’t speak, finally locking your eyes on his. “Yes, of course.” He rushed, “after the wedding?” He offered, seeing your smile turn up, “really?” You gasped like a child. You wrapped your arms around his neck, “I don’t want you to think I don’t want more babies with you.” He smirked, kissing your pouted lips, “I was just so caught off guard.” He admitted honestly, his normal attitude coming back through.

You had to cut him some slack, thinking of how hard it was for him when Willow’s mom was pregnant, she didn’t want him involved in anything he wasn’t able to be apart of it up until the last second, it was like a switch flipped and suddenly she decided she wasn’t fit to raise a baby. As selfish as it sounds, you were so grateful for how it turned out, because at the end of the day you knew she was getting the best life possible with you and Tyler.

“Me too, honestly, I’m surprised she hasn’t asked how the baby gets in a woman’s stomach.” You quipped, Tyler groaned, “I can’t even think about that.” He muttered in defeat, kissing the side of your head. When he pulled away, you had a giddy smile on your face, “what?” He asked you suspiciously. “I can’t wait to have a baby with you.” You admitted, watching his nerves melt away. You knew Tyler, and you knew he was a worrier, even if he didn’t voice it, right now he was probably running over every horror story he’s heard about complicated pregnancies. “God you’re gonna look so beautiful.” He muttered, a glint in his eyes, you knew then, that it was all going to be ok, even if he was a nervous wreck. Which part of you thought he would be.

***

You stood by the window of your bridal suite, dressed in your gown and veil, one of the photographers getting photos of you looking out, coincidentally, in the open garden below you, Tyler was doing his first look with Willow, something the photographer had brought up to you, and you jumped on it. Those pictures would be cherished forever, Tyler really didn’t know what Willow was going to be dressed in, but you watched as he turned around and saw his little girl, who didn’t look so little, in a dusty rose colored dress, long lace sleeves and a nice puffy skirt, per her request. Her curls tamed beautifully for once as she actually let the hair stylist apply some products to them. Your grin was wide as he gasped, looking at her and she bounced over to him, you could see her mouth moving and you could only imagine how she was rambling on and on about her dress. A habit he swears she picked up from you.

“Y/N? You ready to head down?” Your maid of honor, your best friend Y/F/N asked, giving you a once over. You smoothed out your dress once more, looking down at the trumpet style gown. “Yeah.” You sniffled, fanning at your face. You and Tyler opted not to do a first look, you wanted to see his genuine reaction as you walked down the aisle. “You look stunning.” She assured you, lightly dabbing under your eyes with a tissue, the sound of the camera going off in the background.

As you reached your spot just behind the double doors, any nerves you had melted away, Tyler, the love of your life, was right on the other side of this wall, prepared to say I do to a lifetime with you.

Tyler’s father was walking you down the aisle, neither of your parents here to do it. As he approached, you smiled, hoping Tyler’s reaction would be similar to his dad’s. You’d grown close with his family over the years, they truly loved you, and it showed as his dad grabbed your hand, kissing the top of it as he smiled tearfully. “I’ll never really know how Tyler managed to snag you up, but he could have never made a better choice.” He explained, voice shaking before he cleared his throat. “Let’s get this show on the road.” He broke the silence, chuckling at himself as you looped your arm with his, holding your bouquet with the other.

The wedding March began to play, and the doors were pushed open, revealing you and Paul standing there. Instantly Tyler looked to the ceiling, his eyes watering already, the smile on his face was undeniable as you walked towards him slowly, your own eyes glazed over at the way he was looking at you. “Gorgeous.” He mouthed, your lips parting in a smile, he loved when he got those smiles out of you, the ones where the corners of your eyes would crinkle, and sometimes you would even scrunch your nose a bit. This was definitely one of those moments.

***

The wedding had come and gone, your honeymoon too, a simple trip with just the two of you before the hockey season started again. “Daddy.” Willow whispered, standing on his side of the bed, he stirred, blinking his eyes a couple of times to adjust to the darkness of the room. He turned his lamp on, “what’s wrong baby?” He asked softly, careful not to wake you as he caressed Willow’s face, frowning at the tears coating it. “I had a bad dream.” She whimpered, “come here.” He huffed as he pulled her up onto the bed. “Wanna tell me what happened?” He asked her, turning the lamp off as he let her cuddle with him. “No, just cuddles.” She mumbled sleepily, his heart swelled in his chest at that, “always, princess.” He sighed, kissing the top of her head as she easily laid on top of him, her teddy bear snuggled between them. You flipped over carefully, having woken up during their little conversation. Tyler gave you a tired smile as you placed a kiss on his shoulder before resting back on your pillow, a smile on your face as you listened to her light breathing.

As morning came you groaned in annoyance, morning sickness coming right along with it.

That’s right, you two had no trouble getting pregnant apparently, today was actually the day you were going to tell Willow about the baby. “Is mommy sick?” Willow asked Tyler as they woke up to you bolting out of bed, he held back a chuckle, “no, she’s ok.” He assured her, “stay here.” He demanded gently before coming to check on you as you brushed your teeth. “Hi babe.” He placed a kiss on your cheek, “doing ok?” He asked softly, locking eyes with you in the mirror. “Yeah,” you sighed, leaning into his hold after you rinsed your mouth out. “Are you ready to tell her?” You asked eagerly, “god, yes.” He groaned, giving you a quick kiss.

Willow was sitting in the middle of the bed, adjusting the bow on her teddy bear's head. “Good morning, baby.” You chuckled, sitting beside her, she shot you a smile, just like Tyler’s as she crawled into your lap. “Don’t forget miss bows.” She mumbled with a pout, Tyler snickered as you took the bear and placed a kiss on its head, “good morning, miss bows.” You spoke dramatically, Willow snuggling happily into you. “Hey, Willow.” Tyler spoke softly, sitting beside you, “guess what?” He smiled at her, she sat up a little straighter, “what?” She asked cutely, you shared a look with Tyler. “We’re gonna have a baby.” You told her, relief hitting you as she jumped up screaming in excitement. “A baby?!” She squealed. You quickly pulled out your phone to record her, sending it to Tyler’s parents. “When?” She asked giggling, sitting crossed legged in front of you both. “Oh, it’s still going to be a few months honey.” You explained sweetly, “but you’re going to be a big sister, that means you can help me and mommy get stuff ready for the baby.” Tyler assured her, wanting her to feel involved and not like the baby was going to completely take over.

The months started flying by, you were having a little boy, Tyler thought he wanted another daughter, which of course he would have been just as excited for, but when he heard it was a boy, you could see the way his eyes lit up. Willow had been a little upset at first, wanting a little sister that she could do all her fun girly things with as she got older, but after some long conversations and some explanations, you convinced her of all the reasons it would be fun for her to have a brother.

Tyler was more than nervous as your water broke in the middle of the night, of course you’d thought ahead and had spoken to Tyler’s mom, who had been staying with you guys for about a week, to be here and help with Willow once you had the baby. He swears that your labor went on forever, but really, you’d gotten lucky and progressed quickly. Nearly missing the window to get the epidural, which terrified you, but you got it, and now you had a very healthy, chunky little eight pound baby boy. Much to everyone’s surprise, everyone expected him to be smaller, but you weren’t complaining.

“Oh my god.” You cried out as they put him on your chest, his screams filling the room, it felt like an eternity until he began to cry, but he was sure to make up for it.

“I can’t believe we made him.” Tyler mumbled, unlike Willow, Hunter was born with next to no hair. “I know.” You whispered, running your finger across his chubby cheek, he was peacefully sleeping in your arms, already a hungry baby, having drunk himself right to sleep. “I hope he looks like you.” Tyler muttered, lightly kissing the side of your head, a smile graced your lips, “I hope he looks like you.” You giggled, “but I kind of don’t, because then all the girls will be after him when he’s a teenager.” You added, your husband chuckling beside you. “Let’s worry about his first night home, yeah?” He laughed softly. “Willow is going to be so excited.” You sighed, lacing your fingers with Tyler’s.

***

“Mommy, daddy!” Willow rushed over when you walked in, Tyler having the car seat around his arm. “Hi, sweet girl.” You welcomed her hug, kneeling to her height. “Were you good for grandma?” You asked gently, she nodded eagerly before moving over to hug Tyler once he placed the car seat down. “Hi princess.” He grinned, hugging her tightly, “I missed you.” He kissed the top of her head, laughing as she completely disregarded his comment and looked at Hunter in awe. “He’s so pretty.” She gasped, making you and Jackie both laugh. “He really is a beautiful baby, honey.” Jackie spoke to you, giving you a gentle hug. Tyler moved the car seat up to the table, shushing Willow as he assured her she would get to hold him. “Go wash your hands.” Jackie instructed her, walking over to Tyler as he easily held the newborn in his hands. She kissed her son's cheek before grabbing Hunter’s hand, “hello beautiful boy.” She cooed, running her thumb over his arm. “You did good.” She commented to Tyler, lightly nudging his side, he shot her a smile, “yeah.” He agreed, glancing at you.

“Can I hold him, please, please?” Willow begged, running out with freshly washed hands, you nodded, “go sit on the couch, I’ll bring him to you.” You instructed her softly, she giggled and ran off to the couch, you gently took Hunter from Tyler, “oh, Jackie did you want to hold him fi–“ “No, no, let Willow do it first, she’s just so excited.” Jackie cut you off mid ramble. You smiled in relief, slowly walking over to the couch, Tyler came and sat next to her, he put a pillow on her lap, and had her put arms out on it. “You have to be really gentle, ok?” He told her as he put his arms around her, his hands offering extra support for the baby’s neck. You laid Hunter down, smiling as Willow cooed down to him, “hi baby brother.” She giggled, looking over at you and then to Tyler. “Mommy,” she mumbled as you sat next to them, Tyler picking the baby up as he began to fuss, “I love him.” Willow concluded in the most serious voice. “I love him too.”

***

Hunter gurgled up at you as you dressed him in sweatpants, now two months old, and all of you were missing Tyler as he just had his first away game of the season. You left him shirtless, a pun at how Tyler always walked around the house in his pajamas, “mommy, I wanna match.” Willow pouted, you looked at her in thought for a moment, knowing you couldn’t let her run around in only pants, even if it was only in the house. “Oh, I have an idea.” You grinned, scooping the baby up and going into the back of the closet, where most of Tyler’s old shirts were. “Come here baby!” You called, Willow came bouncing in, one of your fondest memories as a child was wearing your dad's old shirts as pajamas, so why not pass it on to her. “Pick one to wear.” You told her, smiling as she got all excited, flipping through them, she pulled two down off the hangers, “where this one mommy, please.” She gave you her puppy eyes, not that she had to. You nodded, taking the shirt from her and going into the bathroom to change into it, leaving your shorts in underneath.

A loud laugh fell from your lips as you walked out and saw her drowning in his shirt, but there was nothing more adorable. “Come here, let me get a picture.” You made Willow lay on the bed, and put Hunter next to her, you wanted to send the picture to him, but you’d rather him be surprised by your outfit choices for the night. “Hello!” Tyler called from downstairs, Willow giggled carefully moving away from Hunter, “careful, hold the shirt up so you don’t fall!” You called as she took off out of the room, her response faded out as she bounced down the steps, you following with Hunter curled up in your arms. “Hey baby!” You heard Tyler gasp, “what do you think you’re wearing?” He questioned her, lifting her up into his arms. “We missed you so much, we figured why not dress up as you.” You explained, making him look up and see you in one of his shirts and Hunter in little grey sweatpants, Tyler threw his head back in laughter, “are you surprised?” Willow asked him, arms clasped around his neck, he hummed in agreement as he kissed her cheek before coming over to you. “Hi.” He whispered before pecking your lips.

“Hi.” You repeated, smiling as he pulled away, Willow wiggled her way down to the ground, allowing him to take Hunter from you. “Hey bud, looking good.” He mumbled kissing across his chubby cheeks. “And mama, as beautiful as ever.” He winked over at you. He smirked when you rolled your eyes with a smile, “movie night!” He declared, bolting up the stairs with Hunter to go change. You chuckled as you ordered pizza, deciding to make it a fun simple night. You knew that it wouldn’t always be like this, but you knew that whatever life through at you, you two could make it work.

“You know, I’ve got all I could ever want right here.” Tyler mumbled as you sat curled up on the couch with two sleeping kids on your laps. “Me too, Ty.”

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