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[kaiijo]

ok. bllk and jealousy rate. how jealous can they get over their gf and what do they do to cope lmao

HOW JEALOUS IS HE? �� [BLUE LOCK]

characters: isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, kunigami rensuke, nagi seishiro, mikage reo, oliver aiku content: gn! reader (request says gf but reader is gender neutral) notes: some of these are lowkey toxic, minor spoilers for kunigami’s character arc, nagi is taller than reader

most jealous: bachira, rin, reo 

bachira meguru ✶

bachira has many, many insecurities. growing up isolated and without many friends, he is more possessive of those he’s close to, which obviously includes you. he just doesn’t want to lose you, which manifests itself in jealousy over anyone he perceives as a threat to your relationship

bachira gets really clingy when he’s jealous. he thinks that inserting himself into the situation, sometimes literally wedging himself between you and the other person. he usually chooses to drape himself over you, nuzzling into your neck and speaking low enough that only you hear, trying his best to divert your attention. third-wheeling is pretty uncomfortable for the other person, especially with the smiling sneer bachira’s shooting at them, so they make a quick irish exit 

itoshi rin ✶

an egoist to his very core, rin can get very jealous. while he’s very sure of himself in nearly every other part of his life, he knows that he is not an ideal partner a lot of the time, though he’ll never admit it. he’s not the most expressive or the most patient, and he’s sure that there are better partners for you out there. 

when rin’s jealous, it’s a silent but deadly thing. like when he’s locked in on the ball in a game, his focus you and his ‘competitor’ is unwavering. he stalks over to stand behind you, his chest bumping right up against your back, and he snarls, “what the hell do you want, you mediocrity?” usually the other person backs off after seeing rin’s bone-chilling glare but if they’re bold enough to answer back, rin bares his teeth and is poised to strike. it’s probably best if you diffuse the situation quickly before it gets uglier  

mikage reo ✶

we already know how jealous reo was over nagi so it’s safe to say that he’s definitely very jealous. having been bored with the world and other people for so long, he’s thrilled when you two get together. it makes his very protective of you and he wants to be one of the most, if not the most, special person in your life. 

reo can go a couple of ways when he feels jealous over someone else but it think his primary response is to tear down the person methodically. he tilts his head a little, looks the person up and down, and notes everything about their appearance — hair, skin, clothes (including brand and cost) and criticizes every little thing. it’s a strategic move in his opinion, using observational skills and knowledge he had given his upbringing to pick apart the other person. he also might make some underhanded comment that includes that he has a black card 

less jealous: isagi, kunigami, sae 

isagi yoichi ✶

he definitely gets jealous from time to time but he doesn’t feel the need to act on it a lot. he’s pretty mature and for the most part level-headed (plus his ability to piece together future events helps him keep his cool a lot). this doesn’t mean that he isn’t jealous 

when isagi is jealous, he’s sulky. he won’t take immediate action and watch from afar, arms crossed and a little pouty. he tries to look as dejected and as ‘wet-cat pathetic’ as possible to make you feel bad and come over to comfort him. when you inevitably do, looping your arm through his and kissing his cheek, he can’t help but smirk at the other person like a cat who go the cream 

kunigami rensuke ✶

i debated where to put kunigami since there are ‘two sides’ to him — pre- and post-wildcard. pre-wild card kunigami is definitely a lot less bothered; he trusts you 100% and is 100% confident and secure in your relationship and himself. post-wild card kunigami is less chill and more forceful. he’s not a hero anymore but even as he plays a more ‘villainous’ role in soccer, he won’t cross that line in your relationship. he’s still very secure in you and himself, but he’s more protective of your relationship. definitely a ‘i trust you/us but it’s other people i’m worried about’ kind of guy

when pre-wild card kunigami got jealous, he won’t act in the moment and will talk to you about it afterwards, in a private setting. open lines of communication were important to him and working out problems like this. post-wildcard kunigami is all stormy looks and intimidation. like rin, he also stands behind you but in less actively aggressive way and more just to be threatening. it’s 95% effective and the 5% of times it doesn’t work, kunigami is not above muscling the other person away 

itoshi sae ✶

i thought about putting sae in the ‘most jealous’ section but i just think that he is someone whose jealousy simmer just beneath his apathetic surface. he sees most other people as beneath him and believes that they are not worthy of speaking to you, let alone hitting on you, but because he’s sees them as so beneath him, he can’t be bothered half the time to do anything since they’re simply not worth it. he gets the most jealous when it’s people who he can potentially view as equals, like other professional athletes 

when he’s jealous, sae literally just pretends they don’t exist, only talking to you. if the other person tries to interject, he sends them a sideways glare — the only acknowledgment of their existence — and then turns away to continue whatever conversation, suggesting that you both get away from the other person as quickly as possible. if ignoring the person doesn’t work, sae doesn’t shy away from spewing vitriol at the other person

least jealous: nagi, oliver, michael

nagi seishiro ✶

simply put, being jealous is a hassle to nagi. it makes him too hot and too annoyed for him to want to feel it so he suppresses the feeling a lot. nagi’s height is already intimidating enough for most people so they don’t approach you when they see you two together but that isn’t a deterrent to everyone

when nagi gets jealous, he does one of two things: just gives a thousand-yard stare that freaks people out or he gets whiny and clingy. his stare is eerie and silent, and the lightness of his eyes doesn’t help it. he towers over you like some cryptid companion. when he gets whiny and clingy, nagi tugs at your sleeve and asks drily, “can we go yet? why are you still talking to them?”

oliver aiku ✶

sigh… oliver is undoubtedly someone who thinks and knows he’s the shit. with so many women and men alike fawning over everything about him, his ego is through the roof. he has very little worry about you leaving him for someone else. honestly, he finds it amusing most of the time when someone attempt to draw you away from him, and let’s it play out a lot for his own entertainment. of course, he’ll intervene if it’s making you uncomfortable but he also believes you can handle yourself 

when oliver gets jealous, he acts as casual as possible. he’s friendly towards the other person and but it’s not hard to uncover that it’s all fake, whether it’s from the glint in his eye or the way his smile is stiff and forced. common tells when he gets jealous is that he pokes his tongue against the inside of his cheek or he clenches his teeth and inhales softly but sharply.  he employs the good old tactic of calling the other person the wrong name and making all kind of underhanded comments that slowly chip at their nerves. (“haruya? haruki? oh! you’re haruto! right, right, you know, they’ve never mentioned you before! crazy, huh?”) 

michael kaiser ✶

kaiser in german literally means ‘emperor,’ and it’s no secret that kaiser views himself as one. similar to sae, he see himself as so above others that he’s not even bothered by other people hitting on you. it displeases him greatly, sure, but these cockroaches will never be able to steal you from him so why should an emperor deal with the plebians? the only time that ever happens is when a peasant is particularly forceful and then, kaiser intervenes

when he gets jealous, kaiser puts on a show. if there’s one thing about him, he’s a bit of a drama queen. he will absolutely posture and puff out his chest at the offending person, looking down his nose arrogantly and smirking. he makes a big display of wrapping himself around you, gripping firmly at your hips and saying, “liebling, you’re very charitable to entertain this insect, but it’s time to end this ruse.”

[satoruhour]

While I know Suguru is the og girldad, there’s something so endearing about Satoru with a daughter.

First time she’s in his arms and it’s like somebody put the sun into his palms. She has his white hair and six eyes but in shape of your facial features, his loud and boisterous personality and his sweet tooth, and there’s not a thing on this planet he cherishes more than her. Spoils her, wants to be her “superhero” dad children look up to, you best believe everything she draws for him is kept secure in a folder in his room. He never lets anyone treat her as inferior to boys (knowing the misogyny in jjk universe), and both of them love you to piecessssss🥹

Like I just randomly imagine him baking a cake with his little daughter for your birthday and MY HEARTHNSJ😭

WHEN US MEANS MORE THAN ME & U

a/n: literal tears. bye. i love dad gojo sm. wrote this through tears while listening to this. tagging @crysugu @jabamin @hyomagiri @seeingivy ✶

wc: 3k plus?? man idfk cant see thru my tears

✶ dad!gojo . . .

. . . who ages so well the more he grows older. if you think he looks good at 28, just wait until he’s 34, or 40. although he still has a baby face, his features have matured way more, now, crinkle lines on his forehead and around his lips that accentuate his dimples even more. he just looked… so damn good, truly keeping his physique well into his thirties, except you wouldn’t have known if his hair is turning grey, though, since it’s already white, but you can tell he’s happy when his body hair is not just white upon white.

. . . who has the palest skin, so when he starts to grow a noticeable moustache and goatee he shows you the short strands excitedly, pointing to the various parts of his face with an excited finger and a beaming smile. he annoys you by rubbing his chin and cupid’s bow along your skin in the morning or when he returns home — it’s a little funny seeing you jump in surprise.

. . . who only lets you dictate whether he should keep the facial hair and when you hesitate even one moment (“nope! let’s shave it!”) you’re pulled into the bathroom and handed a shaver and shaving cream. he hums when the blade glides along his skin, knowing you were too afraid to be too rough. gojo liked the tenderness of these moments, you perched upon his lap and bottom lip caught in between your lips as you focused on his chin and cupid’s bow. the grip on your waist is firm, loving the way your thighs close around his own so snugly.

“okay — last one,” you voice out softly, eyes squinting because it was so difficult trying to see white hair from skin. gojo simply giggles at your struggle and you tsk, telling to stop moving! before you’re yelping and the shaver leaves your hand, the soft, plump lips of satoru moving against yours. behind you, there’s a plop! of water, and gojo just laughs when he sees the shaver lodged into the toilet. “ah. well, let’s use yours.” and your mouth twists, “no! i use that to shave…” you trail off and you swear you can hear gojo’s grin and the insult of pervert on your lips. “well! all the more to use it!” ✶

. . . whose vision from the start is slowly turning true. the jujutsu world is in the good hands of his students that he’s able to spend time with you and the (unborn) baby more. he smiles more freely now that he works less missions, but still as cheeky and playful as ever, squishing your cheeks and moving them around as he plants kisses on them. he also shows his feelings more, not afraid to bury his face in your neck and ask for head rubs or tell you he might be thinking about suguru a little too much; the first time satoru put his head to your swelling belly and heard the kid kick he teared up right away, baby talking to the baby bump like the sap he is.

. . . who at first hated his family name because it was only ever associated with his powerful father and then him, with both of his renowned techniques, how it pointed straight to him being the strongest and a cog in the machine to overwork. but now, gojo rather likes it, referring to you as “my wife” and “mrs. gojo” more times than necessary. you gave him his surname meaning by saying your vows and slipping his (rather expensive) ring on your fourth finger. you gave the family name a sense of warmth and homeliness whenever he’d come home to you humming a tune from high school and cooking up some dinner. you gave ‘gojo’ a worth that means more than just the six eyes and limitless — that it’d mean that gojo was the penthouse in some far off tokyo district coupled with you and the baby growing in you.

. . . who when first handed his baby girl, cried full on tears in the hospital, both arms wrapped so snugly around his baby because he was afraid he was going to hurt her or drop her in some way. gojo is generally pretty large in stature that he makes your baby girl look so small that it’s endearing. your cheeks hurt from smiling so much at them, not having the energy to capture the moment since you just quite literally delivered. but satoru much rather have his girls in the picture, handing the baby back to you before he reveals his phone to snap a picture.

“w-would ya look at her?” satoru coos, rocking and bouncing his body gently to ease your baby back into slumber. there’s an ugly show of a mess on his face — snot falling everywhere and tear stains lining his cheeks. but there’s one final thing that has gojo choking up all over again; the baby is curious and feels up his hand, your husband letting a finger out before she curls her small fist around his finger. “oh my god.” it’s cute seeing gojo so distraught as tears spring to his eyes again and he can’t even form words. it makes the baby laugh and he sobers up a little, sniffing and raising a brow. “love seeing your papa cry, huh?” and the baby sputters again and giggles and satoru swears he ascends to heaven and mutters a promise more to himself than your darling girl. “i’ll protect that little smile for as long as i live, okay?” ✶

. . . who is entirely enamoured with his baby girl, carrying her a little too much when she should be in the crib, singing her little songs or pointing out the colours of the sky in the nursery. you watch the scenes like a proud wife and mother, still not used to the beautiful scenes and childlike decorations of the room — only because satoru would not let you in after learning why ellie from up couldn’t conceive even if the paint now was safe. but you don’t have the heart to turn away your husband when this is what you get out of it, reminiscent of when gojo had playfully done to tsumiki and megumi before (“the scenery is beautiful today, gojo-san!” vs. “i already know what colours are, dumbass.”). 

. . . who only asks you to rest while he takes on most of the diaper-changing and feeding duties. you weren’t even that old to begin with, but it seemed like just like you were pregnant, satoru found it offensive that you’d think of even lifting a finger. you let him, for a while, until you find out he’s putting on the diaper wrongly and putting a little too much formula in the bottle, but you simply pat his cheek when he tears again. by god, he doesn’t want to mess this up, he doesn’t want to mess you up, he doesn’t want to mess her up, but you show him with your hands wrapped around his. one, two, three, and a half cups into the bottle; wrap around her right, then her left and secure it with the provided adhesive.

“satoru, baby,” you sigh, going on your tippy toes to kiss away the tears spilling from his cheeks, “you’re not a bad dad because you didn’t know how to make her food or change her diaper.” your fingers are as light as dewdrops, always in awe of his flawless skin and looks, and now, in awe of his consideration and love of your baby girl. “but—” you put up a finger, “no buts— remember? we promised each other not to be sorry if we can’t help it. you are human, my love.” gojo heaves a shaky sigh and swallows away the sobs, nodding against your hand as he covers it and leans into your touch. “i am human,” and a little later after quelling the baby’s cries in bed, “thank you.” ✶

. . . who, when she’s old enough, takes her on flying mishaps, hands tucked under her arm pits to guide her through the house in exaggerated flight. it feels like dad is superman, the sofa, high chair, even mama is all too far away from her and she’s onto her next exciting adventure. the bubbly giggles from your darling girl is the only sound that matters to satoru, alongside your laughter as you watch the two in play while dinner simmer besides you. higher! higher! she asks when she can speak and he does just that with his imposing height, but gojo’s tallness never intimidates his baby girl; no, not when gojo satoru is her hero and you, her solace.

. . . who gives nothing but a multitude of praises when his girl is leaning more into the artistic side, asking for colour pencils and crayons and paint to explore her creativity that with each drawing she shows him, he gasps, falls to the floor, and cries out how it should belong in a museum! gojo is doing the most — hands on his chin and pointing to various parts of the drawing and discussing the “meaning” behind it when all your girl wanted to do was draw the three of you as a happy family. he’s buying the frame, making a plaque for the artwork to be hung; when he’s making copies of the artwork to keep in a folder, he’s crying his eyes out (“she just wanted to draw us, us! as a family!” you giggle, “yes, satoru, that’s what we are.”)

“girlssss! i’m home!” satoru grins when your baby runs up to him, swooping her up before she can crash into his legs and twirls her around. “papa! look at what i drew today!” you’re emerging after cleaning up her very passionate creative space after she swore on finishing it before your husband came back, smiling when she bounces on her heels. “woooow!” he clutches his heart, one knee and then the other before he croaks out “ooouhhhh! why isn’t this masterpiece in a museum yet?! it’s a crime!” if you were in high school, the gojo then would definitely barf at how cheesy he was being at the moment, “very compelling use of colour, here, miss gojo. hmm, yes, yes, i see how you used multiple colours for the sun — very effective in showing the many colours of the sunset!” you’re cheesing so hard at the display because he does this every. time. and it never fails to make her yell in excitement, running over to you as she gives you a big fat kiss on your cheeks, “mama helped me!” a raise of the eyebrow before you finally get your well-awaited kiss to your lips, “i’m sure she did, honey.” ✩

. . .who teaches her the basic things, not shying away from the harsh realities of the world and jujutsu society. he tells her about boys who make fun of girls and think it’s acceptable, or teachers that would only like the strong boys to carry the chairs to the centre of the classroom. he thinks that if he’s going to do this parenting shit, he’s going to do it right, not the way his parents did it, not the way the higher-ups “looked” over young sorcerers. he covers self-defense, verbal comebacks as well as a rejected raise of her hand to threaten a punch (you were the one to stop him from teaching her that — you could only thank it wasn’t a middle finger instead), praising and rewarding her with candy and blown raspberries into her skin.

. . . who teaches her mama is as important as he is, but your darling girl already knows the value of her mother who holds her tight when she has a nightmare, or the airplane on mama’s airline that always holds delicious food. she knows how much her mother loves her when you’re sharing a smile with her at the dinner table as satoru chokes again on his food, and when you pat her to sleep while telling the story of how you and gojo met. that’s why she was the one to suggest that they both bake you a cake for your birthday — with her as the head chef and satoru as her sous chef. 

“it has to be perfect, papa! no more burning the pancakes in the morning or putting too much sugar.” gojo stifles a laugh at that; it seems that his baby girl had heard the many trivial mishaps that had happened in the kitchen, snapping out of his daze when his daughter lands a light slap on his cheek. “pay attention!” satoru fully laughs now, okay, okay! he says and they read through the recipe together — a family recipe passed down to you — and they try their best. the flour is a little messy, the sugar is a tad too much and satoru thinks he may have preheated the oven too high a heat, but then there’s the familiar smell of the vanilla extract and the rise of the cake in the tin. your baby cheers, collapsing into gojo’s arms in front of the oven and together on the floor, they watch the cake ascend.

“careful, baby, it’s hot.” gojo brings her away when the cake is finally done, dramatically smelling and letting out a sigh at it, “it smells really good, ain’t it?” she purses her lips and points to herself, “all due to me!” and gojo hums in agreement. he’s content to let his baby girl take all the credit when she’s looking as adorable like that, finding that her confidence is looking more and more like his while your kindness shows when she’s propped up on the kitchen island and saying, “but papa was the one who helped me pour everything! so maybe it’s because of both me and papa.”

the “thank you” that satoru whispers into his girl’s temple is a whisper, and the house falls into a comfortable, more calm atmosphere as they work on the icing together. it’s clear that all her excitement has caught up to her and she’s now feeling a little sleepy in between, only shooting up when gojo’s announced the icing’s all mixed properly. “happy . . birthday . . mama,” she draws out in the air with satoru’s finger clutched between her fist, a clear layout in her young mind that he had no choice but to listen (he would always listen), lathering first the white base icing before the pressuring job comes and his darling girl is looking at him with narrowed eyes, “don’t mess it up, papa!”

“i won’t—” and before gojo can start on the lettering, you’re depositing the house keys into the bowl your husband gifted you in high school, letting out a chuckle at the scene before you: the sorcerer’s face caked in white, vanilla extract and broken egg shells on the island and in the middle of it, your husband and your daughter looking like deer caught in headlights.

“hi, mama,” they say in unison and your grin only widens. you could hardly be mad when this doesn’t happen often, already knowing the occasion, but they seemed to be a little bummed out from being found out so you only hope your hug can make it up. your baby girl goes first: she squeals when she’s scooped into your arms, smile so bright it could mirror any angel in heaven. while she still pouts, she’s more than happy to wish you a happy birthday. “thank you, baby. was baking with papa fun?”

she nods so hard her whole body moves in your arms, “papa is very bad at measuring stuff, though.”

you burst out laughing while your husband falls into a greater pout than your daughter did, brushing off the flour from his arms and taking the both of you into his embrace, “she’s so mean to me, sweets.”

“i’m not, just telling the truth. mama, i was the head chef, so i get to say what he’s bad at.” gojo’s pout worsens and you coo, pulling him closer.

“yes, but daddy did help with everything, didn’t he?” you whisper, brushing away the strands that fall over her face. you’ve never really taken the time to take in everything: her white hair, those blue eyes that are a little darker, the lines at the side of her smile that look like yours. instinctively, your forehead rests against hers and upon feeling her nod, you think that this is all you need. “thank you, darling.” and your girl grins again when she feels your peck on her forehead. gojo only can look at his girls with a content smile, pout stretching into his face while his hand never stops caressing your back. “can daddy have a kiss too?”

that night when she’s put to sleep after much protest (you both give in and end up watching your favourite movie together as a present), you’re drawing circles on gojo’s bare chest which also has grown a little bit of hair. his lips upon your hair feels like a divine blessing; he speaks.

“happy birthday again, baby,” a kiss, “only if you came home a liiittle later, though.”

you laugh softly, “actually, i sort of heard your shenanigans when i was standing outside the front door.” satoru jerks from the comfortable position, prompting your head to hit the headboard in a loud ‘thud’.

“oops sorry, baby— but what?!”

you shake your head, roll your eyes, pull him back to tuck yourself under his chin, “you’re so damn dramatic. i just didn’t want to interrupt the both of you. you mean a lot to her, you know.”

gojo sighs, moving away a bit for your head to tilt up and his heart still pulls and tugs like so many years ago. if he recalls correctly, it’s just exactly like this that you shared your first kiss together, the line between friends and lovers blurring so much that all it took was your eyes staring into his to make him notice he never had infinity on around you.

“you made me forget what i was gonna say,” satoru mumbles, a laugh cutting through his features when you smile sheepishly. he copies your outburst, “you’re so damn beautiful.”

“and you mean a lot to her, too. we mean a lot to her — it’s the least we can do when you’ve brought such a beautiful baby into the world,” gojo mutters — it’s late and he’s slurring his words from the fatigue. his eyes glow under the night light and he holds on to you just a little tighter, “to give her a normal life.”

his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and there’s the sheen of his tears again. “we will succeed, don’t you worry.” you silence his doubts with a kiss, “you’re doing a great job of a father, ‘toru. i will keep reminding you until my voice turns hoarse and i can’t speak.”

normally, he’d tease you but all it does is make the tears full spill over; but they’re happy this time. satoru only lets you catch his lips in a deep kiss, quietening his sobs as your hands fumble at his undercut and his face. you can hear the faint “thank you”’s he mumbles and you’re also close to crying, pulling away to admire him — god, you loved him so much you feel like you could collapse. he loved you so much he would do it all over again if it meant having you in every life.

“thank you for having me. thank you for loving me, baby,” satoru whispers, wiping at your tears as did you and he laughs, “dunno why we’re cryin’. s’pposed to be a happy moment.”

you huff (of course, he’d say something funny now), but that’s just one of many things you love about him. all you do is hold him closer that night and mutter a prayer — to virgin, to buddha, to anyone who would listen.

it might get difficult along the way: one of you may need to take on more missions, your baby will be growing up and heading to school. there will be difficult talks, puberty, tantrums, none of you were truly ready. and yet, despite it all, you’d still have your satoru, the one who made tsumiki and megumi into what they are today. despite it all, you’d still have each other and your darling girl, your family of gojo’s whose definition changed from suffocating to belonging. despite it all, as long as galaxies are created and supernovas happening and the planets revolve around the sun, it’d take light years for your love to diminish even one speck.

your love for each other could surpass the cosmos — that in itself is enough.

part two

[its-straykeedz]

silver lining; myg

pairing: min yoongi x afab!reader

established relationship!au; marriage!au; pregnancy!au

rating: fluff, smut, angst;

wc: 7,4 k

MINORS DNI!

TW: language; mentions of infertility; conceiving difficulty; mature contents; explicit sexual scene [but like sweet lovemaking]: piv, unprotected sex & cream🥧 (for a purpose), car seggs; heavy themes such as: mentions of an unplanned pregnancy, mentions of a miscarriage, mentions of abortion; Yoongi being so soft it breaks my poor little heart; mentions of a pregnancy scare; mentions of a teenage pregnancy; (please let me know if I forgot something)

Disclaimer: all of my works are entirely fictional and do not represent the characters involved in any way, I just write my fics for fun. 

There are a few Korean words in this fic, such as: jagiya, which is a gender-neutral pet name; appa, which means “dad”; eomma, which means “mom”; jal ja, which means “good night”.

Please keep in mind that English is not my first language, therefore feel free to correct me if you spot any mistakes or typos!

☔︎

“He’s so pretty…”, you murmur, holding little Jisung, Taehyung’s son, in your arms, gently rocking him, watching as his little eyes peacefully close as he falls asleep. “I want one…”, you whisper, gently caressing the baby’s soft hair. 

“I know you do, jagiya.”, Yoongi wraps his arm around your shoulder, gently pulling you close, careful not to wake the baby up. He places a soft kiss on your temple, as his hand caresses the skin of your bare shoulder. “I want one, too.”

You and Yoongi’ve been trying to get pregnant for years now. You’d started trying before he even proposed to you, and now you’ve been married for over two years and still nothing. It crushes Yoongi’s heart knowing that he still hasn’t been able to give you the thing you want the most: a family.  

“I think I’d be a great mom.”, he hears you sniffle, but you’re not looking at him. Instead, you’re looking at the baby in your arms, carefully wrapped in a sage green blanket, with a little pacifier with a bunny on it in his little mouth. 

“You will be the best mom in the world, jagiya.”, he places another kiss on your head, and he lingers a bit. “We just have to wait a little longer.”, he wants to reassure you that everything’s gonna be okay, that you’ll have the family you dream of, that you’ll finally welcome a child to the world, but he can’t. He can’t make a promise he’s not sure he can keep. 

“I love you so much, Yoongi.”, you whisper, leaning in to kiss him on the lips, but you’re interrupted by Jisung’s stirring, right before he bursts into a loud cry, and Taehyung immediately rushes towards to you, ready to pick his baby up and soothe him. 

☔︎

The sensation of Yoongi’s delicate, long fingers brushing against your soft skin is familiar to you, but it makes you shiver nonetheless. He caresses your breasts as he places a series of wet, sloppy kisses all over your neck and collar bone, squeezing one of your nipples between his index and thumb, earning a muffled moan from you in response. 

His hand sluggishly moves all over your waist and pelvis, until you feel him place his thumb on your clit, as he keeps thrusting in and out of you at an excruciatingly slow pace, repeatedly brushing over your g-spot with the tip of his dick. He starts moving it in a circular motion, and you let out a timid moan, which only encourages him to repeat the action again and again, until you’re a whimpering mess under him. 

“‘m about to cum, jagi…”, he groans in your ear.

“Me too…”, you pant, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with Yoongi kissing your neck and working your clit at the same time. “Please don’t stop.”, you whimper, encouraging him to go faster. 

“I love you so much, jagi…”, he lets out a groan as soon as he feels you  clench around him, and he finally cums inside you, before collapsing on your naked body, sweaty and exhausted. You run your hand though his soft, black hair, then place a tender kiss on his head resting on your bare chest. “I love you too, so much. So, so much, Yoongi…”

He notices that something’s off, by the way you shift uncomfortably under him and by the way your hand, the one that was caressing his hair, stops moving. He doesn’t ask you what’s wrong, though, and simply lifts up and retrieves his body from between your thighs, before heading to the bathroom to grab you a towel to clean yourself from his cum, that’s slowly dripping out of you. 

Once he lays down next to you, in the darkness of your bedroom, and hugs your body close to his from behind, you can’t help but let a few tears slip from your eyes. You hope he doesn’t hear your muffled sniffles, but he does. He does, and tears well up in his eyes too, because he knows the exact reason why you’re crying and it kills him that he can’t take your pain away. 

He places soft, delicate kisses on your bare shoulder, but suddenly stops when you call his name. “Yoongi…”, your voice trembles as you fight back the tears. “Why don’t we just…”, you take a deep breath, not sure you even want to say it out loud. “Why don’t we just stop trying?”

Yoongi feels as if his heart just stopped beating once he hears those words come out of your mouth. What is he supposed to say? He knows he can’t make the situation any better, but it hurts him too, he just wishes you knew that. It hurts his heart the way he sees you crying on the bathroom floor with a pregnancy test in your hands, negative every damn time; he was heartbroken too when Taehyung’d given him and his friends the news that he was soon going to become a father. 

“Jagi…”, he intertwines his fingers with yours, his voice trembles as his lower lip quivers, signaling he’s about to cry, too. “Are you sure? Do you… do you want to give up?”

You bite your lower lip so hard you can almost taste blood in your mouth. The thought of giving up on having a family with the love of your life makes you feel weak, but at the same time, it’s just too much for you to handle right now. You and Yoongi have been together for many years, you’d started dating when you were in high school, and the moment you met him, you instantly knew he was the one. 

You’ve always wanted to become a mother someday. As for Yoongi, he never knew how much he wanted to become a husband and a father until the day he met you. You were both really, really young to even think about having kids or getting married, but it was nice to know that you were on the same page, at least. 

When you decided to finally start trying for a baby, you were twenty-three and he was twenty-four. Luckily, both you and Yoongi had already graduated and had stable and well payed jobs, plus you were already living together, so a baby would fit just perfect. 

But now, after nearly three years of trying… you’ve almost lost hope.

“I just don’t want to go through all this anymore… the hope I feel every time my period’s late and how it gets crushed the moment I take a pregnancy test and only one damn line shows up…”, you sigh, swallowing the lump in your throat, as you feel Yoongi’s body stiffen behind yours. “I don’t want to feel that kind of pain anymore, Yoongi, it breaks my heart.”

You feel something wet on your shoulder, and that’s how you realize that Yoongi’s crying as well. “Jagi…”, he murmurs, holding you even tighter than he already was. “I’m so sorry, jagiya, so, so sorry…”, he manages to say between sobs, “I want to give you the family we’ve been dreaming of, I want to give you the world…”

You try to turn your body so that you’re now facing him, but struggle a bit, since Yoongi’s holding you a bit too tight, but you somehow manage to do so. When you meet his eyes, you notice his cheeks are flooded with tears, his nose is a bit runny. You cup his face in your hands, brushing away a couple of dark locks from his eyes, then you place a soft, chaste kiss on his plump lips. 

“I love you so much, Yoongi…”, you kiss him again, wiping away some tears from his face. “You make me the happiest, it’s just… it gets too much sometimes, I feel like maybe we should take a break from trying, maybe we’re just stressing too much about it.”

He just nods with his head, and this time it’s him who kisses you softly. “Anything for you, jagiya.”

☔︎

Yoongi feels his legs shake and his head starts to spin as soon as he processes his friend’s words. “What?”, he blinks a few times, speechless, secretly hoping that maybe, just maybe, he misheard what Taehyung had said. 

“Yup, Jihyeon’s pregnant. A couple of months already.”, his friends repeats himself, with a big smile on his face. “Jisung’s gonna be a big brother.”

Again?, Yoongi thinks, immediately feeling bad afterwards, but he really can’t help it. Little Jisung’s only, like, nine months old and Taehyung’s girlfriend’s already pregnant again? 

He gulps hard, as he feels his palms become sweaty, and his thoughts go immediately to you. Yoongi knows that, if Taehyung’d decided to tell him and the boys the happy news, then his girlfriend Jihyeon probably told you and the other girlfriends already. Shit, he thinks, you’re probably going to be devastated. 

You’d decided to take a break from trying, yes, but Yoongi knows you like the back of his hands by now, and he knows that you’re probably breaking down inside. He wonders whether he should text you just to check up on you and see how you were doing, but he then decides not to, just in case Jihyeon didn’t tell you anything about the pregnancy. 

But she did. She announced her second pregnancy with the brightest smile you’d ever seen on her face, practically shoving her ultrasounds to you and the other girls’ faces.  The other girlfriends are all happily cheering and smiling and laughing and you can’t take it anymore. You feel like you’re the worst friend ever, but you really have to force yourself to smile, because it’s just too underwhelming. 

“I didn’t know you and Taehyung were trying again.”, Chaerin, Namjoon’s girlfriend, says to Jihyeon, wiggling her eyebrows and playfully elbowing her on the arm. 

“We weren’t.”, Jihyeon confesses, blushing a little, and your stomach drops, as your legs begin to shake. “We hadn’t been exactly… careful, so when my period was late we knew there might be a chance, you know?”

You can’t believe it, and you can’t help but feeling a bit angry. You and Yoongi’ve been literally trying for years, and the moment Jihyeon and Taehyung have unprotected sex once she gets pregnant with her second child? This must be one of God’s sick jokes, because seriously, what the fuck? 

When Yoongi comes home later that night, he finds you laying on your bed, still with your clothes on, and he can hear your sobs even from the doorstep, and his heart crashes into a million pieces, because he knows. He knows the reason why you’re so sad, and the worst thing is he can’t do anything to make the situation any better. He can’t take your pain away, as much as he wants to.

“Jagiya…”, he murmurs, sitting on the bed next to you. He places his soft hand on your cheek, caressing it with his long fingers, as he feels your hot tears on his skin. 

“I… Jihyeon’s…”, you can’t even get the words out of your mouth. 

“I know.”, Yoongi interrupts you, and you’re thankful for that, because even saying it out loud makes your heart ache even more. “I know, jagi, I know… I’m so sorry.”, he whispers, placing a warm kiss on your forehead.

“It was unplanned.”, you manage to say, taking a deep breath. “Why us, Yoongi? Why?”, your voice trembles. “We’ve been trying for years after… after…”, you can’t say it out loud, it hurts too much. 

And Yoongi knows, because as you speak those words he gulps and closes his eyes, letting the pain sink in at the thought of your miscarriage. His mind goes back to when the doctor told you that your baby didn’t make it, and it hurts him just like that day. 

You and Yoongi had decided not to tell anyone about your pregnancy. You’d just found out, plus it was too early to be announcing it to all of your friends and family, and you wanted to keep it just for yourselves for a little while. Until that morning, when you woke up to an unusual pain in your lower abdomen and an unexpected red stain on both your pajamas and bedsheets. And you just knew. 

Yoongi didn’t cry then, nor in your gynecologist’s studio when she confirmed your suspicions, because he knew he had to be strong for you, even though it was killing him. He cried in the shower though, when he was alone, where his tears got mixed up with the hot water drops falling on his face, hoping that it’ll somehow erase all the pain he was feeling. It didn’t. He didn’t feel any better, he doesn’t feel any better, he just learned how to live with the weight, instead of being crushed by it.

“I don’t know, jagiya…”, he lets out an hopeless sigh, fighting back his own tears. 

“It’s so unfair.”, you snap, not angry at Yoongi, but at your fate. “I want to be a mom, I want it so bad. And then she mentioned she thought about having an abortion, because the thought of having another kid so soon scared her, and I was dying inside.”, you sit up on the mattress, wiping away the dried tears on your face with the hem of your green sweater.  

“Yeah, Taehyung told me about it.”, he sighs, letting himself fall on the mattress on his bed, covering his tired face with both of his long, tapered hands. “But it’s not their fault. I mean, they don’t know about our… issue. It doesn’t make me feel better, though.”

“Jihyeon probably hates me.”, you mumble, and Yoongi removes his hands from his face to look at you with a confused look on his face. “I didn’t even want to see the ultrasounds. I just sat there, smiling awkwardly.” 

“Taehyung probably hates me, too, then.”, Yoongi comments, as he gets up and starts undressing only to change into his pajamas. “Didn’t wanna see them either. I was the only one.”, he says, unzipping his jeans, as you stare at his half-naked body, because he looks just so gorgeous. “I know it shouldn’t bother me because, as I said before, it’s not their fault, but it’s just so hard to pretend you’re happy when you’re actually not.”, you nod, watching him slip into his pajama pants, the ones you’d bought him last Christmas. “I mean, of course I’m happy for him-“

“I get it.”, you interrupt him. “I feel that way too. I thought that I was just being selfish, though, and I feel so guilty.”, you stand up too, removing your sweater to change into one of Yoongi’s t-shirts, one of your favorite to sleep in. 

You lay next to each other, body entangled in the soft cotton sheets, but with your eyes wide open, staring at the white ceiling. Yoongi’s fingers are intertwined with yours, but neither of you dares too speak, too absorbed in your thoughts. You just lay there, wide awake, in complete silence. 

“Yoongi?”, you break the silence, but you don’t turn to look at him, too scared that the eye-contact might stop you from asking him what’s on your mind. “Would you still love me? If I couldn’t have kids, I mean… Would you still wanna be with me?”, your voice quivers as you speak the last few words. 

“Jagiya.”, Yoongi sounds almost as if he’s scolding you. Little does he know that it’s your worst nightmare. You’re so scared that he’ll leave you if he finds out that you can’t give him the family he wants, that you won’t be carrying his children, that he’ll just leave you for another woman, one who can and will give him what you can’t. “I’ll love you no matter what. Forever. That’s what we promised to each other at the altar, and I do not intend to break that promise.”, his tone is serious, as if he’s almost offended by your question. “You’re the love of my life, jagiya.”

He hears you sniffle, and then he feels your body shift, until you hid your face in the crook of his neck, as he envelopes your body with his muscular arms, caressing your back to soothe you. “What if it’s me?”, he murmurs, his voice is so quiet you almost don’t catch what he says. 

“What if it’s you what?”

He gulps hard, his eyes become watery. “What if I can’t give you kids? What if I am the problem?”, you feel something wet fall on your hair, and that’s how you realize that he’s crying. “What if…”, he chokes, “What if you wake up one day and realize that you’re just wasting your time with me? That you could have everything you ever wanted with another man?”

You lift your body to meet Yoongi’s eyes, before placing your cold hand on his cheek, making him shiver at the sudden feeling. “Yoongi…”, you brush the tip of your nose against his, “You’re all I ever wanted.”

☔︎

“Oh my God, we’re… the worst babysitters ever.”, you say between moans, as you sink down on Yoongi’s lap once more, allowing him to go even deeper. 

You don’t know exactly how you and Yoongi ended up having sex in the backseats of his car, parked right in the path that runs along Taehyung and Jihyeon’s backyard. Thankfully, it’s dark outside and there’s no one around, otherwise you’d be screwed. Taehyung and Jihyeon had asked you and Yoongi to babysit little Jisung for the night so that they could enjoy some time for themselves. 

You were right about to open the car door and ring the bell, when Yoongi pulled you in for what was, in the beginning, a peck on the lips. It then turned into a heavy make out session, and now you’re on his lap, legs spread wide, his veiny hands squeezing your thighs in such an erotic way it makes you shiver. 

“Relax, jagi, we still got time. About ten minutes.”, he pants, eyes closed, as he bites his lower lip, focusing on how wet and soft you feel around him. “But I don’t know if I can last that long.”, he chuckles.

You let out a high pitched moan when he moves one of his hands from your thighs and places it on your exposed breasts, cupping one of your boobs, slightly pinching your nipple with his thumb and index, and you see him playfully smirk at you. “You’re so hot like this, jagiya.”, he grunts, snapping his hips up so that the tip of his dick roughly brushes against your g-spot, making you yelp once again. “I almost forgot how you feel around me.” he moans as he watches you bounce on top of him. 

You and Yoongi didn’t have sex at all the past month and a half. Sure, you did other things, such as foreplay or occasional dry humping, but ever since you’d suggested a break from… trying, you haven’t gone all the way until tonight, when you both gave in to lust like a couple of horny teenagers. 

“I’m gonna cum, jagi, are you close?”, Yoongi pants, his black hair is stuck on his sweaty face and it’s the hottest sight you’ve ever witnessed. 

You nod, “Yes, so close.” Yoongi moves his other hand so that his thumb would brush against your clit, but you stop him before he can touch your sensitive spot. “No, I-“, you gasp for air, “I think I can cum just like this.” 

Yoongi growls at the sound of your words, as he grips your hips, squeezing the flesh tight. “Fuck, you’re so hot. I’ve missed this so much, jagi, please cum on my dick, I’m so close.” As soon as he feels you clench and tighten around him, he squeezes his eyes shut, cussing under his breath. “Fuck, jagi, I’m close.”, he pants, “Lift yourself up, I’m about to cum.”, he bites his lip, gesturing for you to lift your body from his lap in case you didn’t want him to finish inside you. Instead, you pushed your body down, sinking onto him even more, so that his length fills you up completely. “Fuck, I’m-“, he’s cut off mid sentence by his breathtaking orgasm. 

You stay there, in the backseats, you on top of Yoongi, both of you desperately trying to catch your breaths. Your arms are around his body, and you rest your head on his chest, as he runs a hand though your long hair. You feel his cum slowly drip out of you as he softens inside you, good thing you always carry wet wipes in your bag wherever you go, otherwise you’d be screwed. 

“Get up, jagiya, we have to go now.”, Yoongi whispers in your ear. You hum in protest, but get up anyway, because you have a baby to babysit, otherwise you’d stay here with him, cuddled up to his chest, as he holds you tight. 

“I’m sorry…”, he mumbles, as he zips his jeans and fixes his hair, and you look at him confused. “Because I…, you know, came inside.”, he gestures, visibly embarrassed, his cheeks blushing a little. He’s so cute. 

“Why are you sorry?”

“Well, since you said you wanted to take a break from trying…”, he trails, but you get the point. “I wasn’t expecting… that,” he goes on “otherwise I’d have brought condoms or just, you know, finished somewhere else.”, he sounds guilty, and you hate that. 

“Yoongi, love, it’s okay. I wanted it, I liked it.”, you reassure him “The whole taking-a-break thing was just because it was just too much to handle back then. I just needed some time. It’s okay, I promise.”, you kiss him on the lips, hoping that it’ll wash away all the guilt he’s feeling, and somehow it does. 

“I love you.”, he places a soft peck on your lips. 

“I love you too.”, you giggle, brushing your nose against his, “Now let’s go, Min Yoongi, we got a baby to babysit.”

Kim Jisung is an utterly adorable baby. He’s got the prettiest little eyes, and the softest gummy cheeks you ever squished, plus he’s always super calm and quiet, you barely heard him cry since he was born, except for when he was hungry. Taehyung’s always manifested his love for kids, and it really was no surprise to you all when he and his girlfriend announced the pregnancy after just a couple of years of dating, since he always rambled on and on and on about wanting to be a father while he was still in his twenties -technically, he wasn’t even twenty-five when his girlfriend gave birth to Jisung, but whatever. 

Jisung sleeps quietly, as you and Yoongi watch him squeeze his favorite plushie in his tiny, adorable hands, and you can’t help but let out a sigh, that has Yoongi to quickly pull you into a hug from behind. “He’s just too cute.”, you smile at the precious baby boy, and you hear Yoongi hum in agreement. “He grew up so fast, though. It feels like yesterday when Taehyung called us, saying that Jihyeon was in labor.”

“Babies do grow up fast.”, he agrees with you. It’s kinda sad, though, isn’t it?”, Yoongi squeezes you tighter, eyes locked on sleeping Jisung. “They’re so cute, wish they could stay like this forever.”, he speaks as if he’s daydreaming -and he is.

“Bet you won’t be saying that when you’ll have to change, like, a million diapers per day.”, you and Yoongi jump at the sound of Taehyung’s voice. You’ve been too caught up in the moment to notice the rattling of the keys and the door opening. “But he is cute, I’ll give you that.”, he chuckles, placing the keys on the table, before helping Jihyeon, his fiancée, take off her coat. Her baby bump is showing already, and you wince at the sight, biting you cheek. 

Taehyung immediately goes to the crib where his baby is peacefully asleep, and caresses Jisung’s puffy cheeks with his fingers. Little Jisung stirs at the feeling of his father. “Hi buddy, I’m back.”, he whispers to his son, completely and utterly in love. 

“Tae, don’t wake him up.”, Jihyeon scolds him, getting closer to the crib as well, but watching her son from afar, not wanting to disturb his sleep any more. 

“But I missed him.”, Taehyung pouts, unable to keep his hands off his son. “It’s so hard to stay away from him.”

“Did Jisung give you a hard time?”, Jihyeon smiles at you and Yoongi as she sits on the couch, caressing her belly.

You and Yoongi both shake your heads no. “No, he’s an angel. He’s so cute.”, your heart aches a bit at the thought of having to leave him soon. 

“I wonder if baby number two is going to be so calm and peaceful, too.”, Jihyeon giggles, her hand still on her baby bump.  

You wonder how it feels, to have a life growing inside of you. You haven’t got to experience that yet, and when your miscarriage happened you were only four weeks pregnant, and there had been no significant changes in your body. 

“Sorry if we ruined your plans for the evening by asking you to babysit Jisung.”, Taehyung says, picking up his sleeping baby from the crib, before holding him closer to his body as little Jisung nuzzles into his chest, still not letting go of his plushie. “We didn’t know who else to ask.”, he kisses his son on the head. “Seokjin and Namjoon are out of town celebrating their hundredth anniversary or whatever, and Jungkook… well, I don’t trust him with my baby yet. He’s still a baby, for God’s sake.”, Taehyung jokes, making both you and Yoongi laugh.

“It was our pleasure.”, you reassure him. “We love Jisung, we had so much fun.”, there’s sadness in both your voice and your smile, Yoongi can feel it. 

“Are you sure? Thought you might wanted to be alone.”, Jihyeon insists, but you shake your head once more. 

“It’s fine, really. We really do enjoy spending time around Jisung. Plus Yoongi and I are alone 99% of the time anyway…”

Jihyeon and Taehyung quickly look at each other before looking away. Jihyeon clears her throat, “We just thought you were uncomfortable around babies?”, her voice comes out more like a question. 

You and Yoongi both gulp hard, visibly taken aback. You are definitely not ready for this conversation. You and Jihyeon are close, yes, but you have always been the type of person to keep her personal stuff… well, private. You don’t like to share too much about your life, especially when it’s about sensitive topics like this. 

Literally no one knows that you and Yoongi’ve been trying to have a baby. He’s close to Taehyung, he’s one of his best friends, but it’s not like they talk about these kind of things. 

“We’re not.”, Yoongi simply says, hoping that it’d change the topic. His words are followed by and awkward, unbearable silence, until he clears his throat before he speaks again, “It’s getting pretty late, we’ve got plans for lunch so we have to be up early, we better get off.”

☔︎

You feel like you could faint right there on the spot when Jungkook’s new girlfriend, who just turned nineteen, confesses to you that she’s late. Late late. Like, her period’s late. A couple of weeks, actually. She stares at you with her big, doe eyes, and she looks like she’s about to burst into tears. Thankfully, Jungkook’s in the other room with Yoongi and the rest of your friends, and you and her, Nara, are completely alone. 

“Have you…”, you clear your throat, clearly uncomfortable in this situation. Why did she decide to come to you? Sure, you and her are pretty close, and you almost look after as if you’re her big sister, but damn, that was quite straightforward. “Have you and Jungkook had unprotected sex?”, you ask, but deep down you already know the answer, otherwise she wouldn’t be in panic. 

She bites her lower lip, guilty, as she nods. “Yeah, but only a couple of times. We didn’t have any condoms and were too caught up in the moment to think straight. He didn’t finish inside, though.”, she tries to find a silver lining, but you know that it could’ve been enough. She could be pregnant. 

“You have to take a test.”, you tell her. “It could mean nothing though, my period’s late all the time, I should have had it three weeks ago” you shrug “But, you could also be pregnant. You have to take a test.”, you repeat. 

The thought of Nara being pregnant too makes you feel sick. It’s as if everybody else is living your dream and you are just… watching. 

“But please,” you sigh “don’t have unprotected sex again if you’re not ready for the consequences.” She nods in silence, knowing that you are right. You’re not really scolding her, you’re just looking out for her. Nara is young, too young to understand all the challenges that a teen pregnancy brings, and you wouldn’t want that for her. Especially because Jungkook and her’ve just started dating. 

“Unnie?”, she asks after a couple of minutes of complete silence. “You said your period is late, too.”, she starts explaining herself. “I actually bought two pregnancy test, just in case. Why don’t we take them together? You said you’re late, too. It’d help me release some tension.”, she pulls out two pregnancy tests from her bag.

☔︎

You can’t believe you’re actually peeing on a stick right now. You don’t even remember the last time you took a test, and surely you weren’t expecting to take one now, on a random Saturday night, while your boyfriend was just downstairs, laughing and drinking with his friends. 

Nara’s already taken her test, and placed it inside the box without looking at it -which is, in fact, the whole point of a pregnancy roulette-, so you do the exact same. You open the bathroom door to get Nara in, before closing and locking it to make sure no one disturbs you. 

“Should we take a look?”, she asks, panic in her voice. 

You nod, before taking both boxes in your hands, ready to pull out the tests and see the results. You just know you’re not pregnant, that’s why you’re not anxious or anything. Your period is always late, and this time it’s no exception. 

“I’m scared.” Nara’s voice trembles, and she sounds like she’s about to cry. 

You instantly pull her into a hug, and she finally lets a couple tears slip from her hazel eyes. “It’s okay, Nara.”, you pat her back. “It’s okay to be scared. I’m here. Breathe in, then breathe out”, you instruct her, hoping it’ll help her calm down a bit. “Whatever the tests shows, you’re not alone.”

She lets out a desperate whine. “What if I’m pregnant, though? My parents don’t even know I’m dating Jungkook, how am I going to explain a baby to them? What do I tell them?” 

“Nara, calm down. You don’t even know if you are pregnant. And if you are, then I’m sure you and Jungkook’ll figure it out together.”, you pull away to wipe away some tears from her face. “He likes you very much. He’s not a dick, I know he wouldn’t leave you alone if you were pregnant with his child.”

She nods, convinced by your words. “Okay.”, she swallows her own saliva. “You’re right, unnie, thank you.”

“Ready to look?”, you ask. 

She nods, before taking a deep breath. And you do too, even though you know you’re not pregnant. You can’t be. “Yeah, unnie. Let’s get this over with.”

You pull out the test from the box in one swift motion, before placing them on the sink, but they somehow slip and, when you recollect them, there’s absolutely no way you can tell which one’s yours. That’s when you accidentally look at the results.

Negative. 

You take a look at the other test. 

It’s positive. 

Fuck.

☔︎

Yoongi literally throws himself on the bed, and you glare at him because you just hate it when he sits on the bed without changing his clothes first, especially since you changed the sheets this morning. He decides to ignore the look you’re giving him, playfully pushing you, making you fall back on the mattress. “Don’t give me that look, jagiya, I had the shittiest day today, I deserve a good sleep.”, he smirks, but you frown. 

“What happened?”, you get closer to his warm body, nuzzling your face into his collarbone. 

“I don’t know,” he sighs “my boss stressed me a bit too much, I guess.”, he places a kiss on top of your head. But you know Yoongi like the back of your hands, and you know that something else is definitely bothering him, he’s just not the type to stress too much about work. You lift your head to look at him. “What?”, he asks, not looking into your eyes, which is something he always does when he’s trying to hide something from you. 

“Tell me what you are really upset about.”, you insist. 

“I already told you.”, he frowns. 

“Yoongi, sometimes you seem to forget we’ve been together for almost eight years. I know you.”, you tease him by playfully tickling his side, and he squirms under your touch. 

“It’s fine, jagi, it’s nothing.”

“Tell me.”

He takes a deep breath. “It’s just that Jungkook told me something, and I just can’t seem to get it out of my head.” You gulp hard at the sound of his words. You know what he’s talking about, but Yoongi doesn’t know that you know. 

“What is it?”, you hope he doesn’t sense the quiver in your voice, and he doesn’t. He’s too much inside his own head at the moment. 

“I don’t want to talk about it, it’s stupid.”, he mumbles under his breath. 

You sigh heavily. “Stop being so grumpy,” you playfully flick his head “tell me.”

“Fine.”, he gives up. He runs his hand through his hair, unsure whether he should even be telling you that. He doesn’t want to bring up the sensitive topic of pregnancy once again, but you’d find out soon anyways. “Jungkook told me Nara’s period is late.”, he blurts out, unable to look at you. “She hasn’t gone to the doctor yet, but Jungkook’s pretty positive she’s pregnant since they had unprotected sex this month.” 

“Oh.”

“I didn’t want to tell you, jagi, but I figured that she’s going to tell the girls and you’d find out anyways.”, he sounds guilty, and he immediately wraps his strong arms around you to comfort you. 

“Why are you upset, then?”, you ask, your voice is muffled by your face being pressed against his sweater. 

He lets out a long, heavy sigh, as he lets go of your body. “I don’t know, it’s just…”, his head falls back on the soft pillow under his head “The thought of Jungkook becoming a father… I don’t know, it makes me wish I was in his place.”

“You wish you’d gotten Nara pregnant?”, you joke, and he chuckles. 

“You know what I meant.”, he sighs. “I really can’t believe Jungkook’s going to be a father…”, he trails, covering his face with both of his hands out of frustration. 

You stay quiet for a couple of minutes, in complete silence, before you speak. “Jungkook’s not going to be a father, Yoongi.”, you take a deep breath, “You are.” 

Yoongi doesn’t say a thing. In fact, he doesn’t even move, he even stops breathing for a solid five seconds, before he sits up on the mattress and whispers an almost inaudible “What?”, and you already feel the tears starting to well up in your eyes as you get up from your shared king size bed and hurry to grab your purse. You then proceed to pull out a couple of pregnancy tests and a piece of paper Yoongi’s never seen before. 

“I took one of these the other night.”, you start, showing him the positive pregnancy sticks, placing them on top of the duvet cover, “It started as a joke, I really didn’t think I could actually be pregnant.” 

You tell him how Nara’d talked you into taking the test, and how only one of them showed two lines. You also tell him that, the next day, you’d bought two more pregnancy tests and took them first thing in the morning just to make sure, because you never know. You weren’t really expecting two pink lines to show up, and you tell him how you almost fainted right there on the spot. You also tell him that the next day, still shook, you went to the hospital to run some beta blood tests, that confirmed what the sticks’d been telling you all along. 

You are pregnant. And what shook you even more was finding out that you are eleven weeks pregnant. You had never missed your period during the past months, however you had to admit it wasn’t like the other times. There was much less blood, and it only lasted a couple of days. You didn’t think that it’d be spotting from implantation. 

“I didn’t go to the gynecologist, I wanted to tell you first. I want you there with me.” You don’t even realize you’ve been crying the whole time as you were telling Yoongi the whole story of how you found out you are soon going to welcome your baby to the world. 

Yoongi’s crying too. His beautiful, pale skin is soaked in tears as he sniffles and clears his runny nose with the hem of his sweater. “Jagi…”, he sobs, pulling you close for a hug. “Are you serious? Is this real? You’re not joking, are you? Please, please tell me you’re not joking.”, he chokes. He’s so scared you’ll tell him that it’s some kind of sick prank, but it is not. 

It’s all true. 

“It is, Yoongi. It’s real. We’re having a baby.”, you sob too, soaking his clothes with the tears that are falling from your eyes, but neither of you care. You’ve been waiting so long for this moment, and you don’t care about a damn sweater getting wet. 

“Lay down, jagiya, I want to hug you and our baby.”, he wipes some more tears from his beautiful, yet teary eyes. 

You nod, laying down, sinking in your soft mattress, and you soon feel Yoongi’s hands pull down your pajama pants just so that he could have better access to your, still pretty imperceptible, baby bump. You muffle your sobs in the sleeve of your sweater as you feel him place a series of light kisses on your belly, before pulling your pants back on, muttering a “That’ll keep you warm” to the baby in your tummy. 

He gets up only to change into some comfortable sweats and an oversized t-shirt, before returning to bed to lay next to you under the soft, vanilla scented sheets. He hugs you from behind, his warm hand drawing imaginary shapes on your belly. “I still can’t believe it, jagi, I’m so happy…”, he whispers, placing a kiss on your hair, “I’m going to be a dad.”, you can’t see him, but you know he’s probably smiling from ear to ear. 

“Yeah, you are.”, you turn your head to kiss him on the lips. “And you’ll be the best appa, Yoongi.” 

He stays quiet for a while, and you think that maybe he fell asleep, when he suddenly speaks again. “Wait, you said eleven weeks?”, he sounds like he’s thinking of something. You nod. “Jagiya… isn’t that when we… you know, in the car, before Taehyung’s house?”

Your eyes widen as you remember that night. Oops. Yup, that must definitely be the night you got pregnant, since you hadn’t had sex in the previous month. Even after that one time in your car, whenever you and Yoongi had sex he’d pull out last minute until you managed to convince him that you seriously were fine with him finishing inside -which took a while, surprisingly. So yeah, that night in the car has to be the night. 

“Oh my God, jagiya, I can’t believe we made our baby in the backseats of our car.”, Yoongi chuckles, and you laugh too because really, what are the odds? You’ve had unprotected sex for the last years and you get pregnant the one time you do it in your car? 

“Goodnight jagiya, sleep tight.”, Yoongi pulls you closer and kisses your cheek. He then slips one hand into your pajama pants to caress your belly. “Goodnight baby, sleep tight, appa loves you so much already.”

☔︎

Yoongi’s been extra affectionate since he found out he’s going to be a dad.

He asks you how you’re feeling at least ten times per hour, and when he’s not physically there with you, he texts you. It’s not only because he’s protective of you and your baby, but also because he wants to be even more involved in your pregnancy than he already is. He wants to know every little thing that’s happening in your life: every mood swings, every craving, every time you’re feeling nauseous, he just wants to know. He needs to know. 

When you went to the gynecologist to make sure you are indeed pregnant, he asked a million questions to your doctor. You believe you won’t ever forget how his eyes were glistening when the obgyn confirmed that your baby is perfectly healthy and your pregnancy’s not at risk. He’s genuinely so happy to finally be able to share all this happiness with you, the love of his life, the mother of his child. 

You both agreed you’d tell the news to your friends once you entered your second trimester, just to make sure everything was fine. The day you told them, they were all so happy and congratulated the both of you. 

Yoongi bursted into tears when the doctor told you you were expecting a girl. He’d been emotional for the whole day and kept his hand on your belly all the time, caressing your bump as he talked to his daughter, telling her how much he loved her already and how he couldn’t wait to meet her. 

“What do you think about Unmyeong?” Yoongi asks all of a sudden. 

You’re in bed, Yoongi’s arm is around you and his hand is on your belly. You’re almost at the end of your third trimester now, and you’ve definitely gotten bigger. Still, you and Yoongi haven’t chosen the perfect name for your baby girl. You both kind of want a unique name for her, a name that represents what you feel for her. 

“What?”, you ask him, confused. 

“Unmyeong.”, he repeats. “For our baby girl. It means destiny.”, he explains. 

You stay quiet for a while. Unmyeong. The more you think about it and repeat the name over and over in your head, the more you like it. Destiny.

“I think we were destined to have her, you know?” Yoongi murmurs, nuzzling against your back. “We went through a lot to have a family. But we’re here now, our baby girl’s due date’s in a couple of weeks, and I can’t help but think it’s the destiny that gifted us with her.”

His words make tears well up in your eyes, and you can’t help but believe he’s right. You were definitely destined to have her. After almost four years of negative pregnancy tests and desperate cries, you finally got what you’ve been praying for for so long. 

You turn your upper body to meet Yoongi’s eyes, and notice they’re glistening as well. “I like it. Unmyeong… I like it.”, you smile at him. 

“You do?” 

You nod, smiling at him. “It’s perfect. The perfect name for our perfect baby girl. Min Unmyeong.”

A couple of tears fall from Yoongi’s eyes when he hears the full name for the first time. It’s real, it’s all real, finally. You feel him move under the sheets until he rests his head on your stomach, careful not to hurt you in any way. 

“Hi Min Unmyeong. This is appa.”, you can’t stop the tears from streaming down your face as well. “I can’t wait to finally meet you, baby girl. I can’t wait for the three of us to be a family. I love you so much, baby girl. Now sleep tight and let your eomma rest well. Jal ja, baby girl.”

[tinyidle]

Gloves and Chain - KYeoS

Summary: you infatuated with your boyfriend's cyber punk stage tour outfit.. but you especially love his point accessories

Characters/Pairing: yeosang × fem!reader

AU/Trope info: idol au, established relationship

Genre: smut, pwp

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: teasing, dirty talk, reference to marking, choking (giving + receiving), cunnilingus, fingering, slight overstimulation, begging, thigh riding, masturbation, nipple sucking, glove(cum?) sucking, reference to unprotected sex, b!gd¡ck yeosang, roughdom!yeosang, slightswitch!reader, all fiction ofc ofc

Rating: M for mature

A/N: @maltesejjong, im no cream puff (more of a hazelnut chocolate/j), but i wanted so badly to fulfill your request, so here it is! hope your trip goes/is going/went well! fourth submission to @wonderlandnet + first submission to @newworldnet. tagging @strayteezsimp

you scrolled through your feed, mesmerized at the outfit your boyfriend was wearing. the all-black outfit, from the tank to the jeans, were simply stunning. but two things he was wearing caught your eye and slowly soaking center: his gloves and neck chain. one glove was regular sized albeit fingerless, but the other one was a fully covered glove that nearly reached his elbow. the chain around his neck was pretty snug around his neck, yet loose enough for him to look comfortable. you wondered how he would look like when you guys would be together in private, especially if you asked him to wear those items specifically for you.

as you were thinking, you decided to be bold and text him if he had access to the gloves and necklace. it didn't take long for him to respond with a '?', forcing you to reveal your intentions. yeosang took some time before agreeing to wear them for you-- just as long as you wore what he liked.

the next night was heated as you both barged into your shared bedroom, messily making out. your boyfriend decided to surprise you by wearing the full stage outfit that gave you the earlier proposition; even down the the light sheen of sweat he was sporting in that picture due to him working out a bit before. you smiled softly as he kissed your lips and began taking off your clothes. you were wearing regular loose-fitted top and bottoms, but underneath you had what was his favorite lingerie set on you.

"mmh," he hummed, eyeing you similar to a hungry animal, making you blush. yeosang removed his tank top, throwing it onto the ground near you. then afterwards he pulled down and kicked off his skin-tight jeans. the only items he had on now were his boxers, pair of gloves, and neck chain. leaning down to give you a small peck, he whispered in your ear, "lay down, baby."

getting on the bed and laying down, yeosang crawled up to where your closed legs were and went up until he reached in-between your breasts. you sighed as he subtly inhaled your scent and exhaled ever-so quietly, lips lightly pressing against your breastbone. his arms traced over your waist and thighs, warming you up and getting you ready for what's to come. you felt him remove his hands from your body for a second, leaving you confused for a moment before moving down to tracing your thighs. then, with another breath, he started kissing and nibbling the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs, slowly opening them to let himself fit.

"yeo- oh," you whined as the slightly rough material of the gloves teased the area where you need him most, and he knew that.

unlatching from the slightly darkened area he was on, yeosang caressed the peach-colored material of your panties before feigning innocence, "what? i can't love my girl now?" you whined a bit louder, causing him to smack your clothed clit, making you jolt. "use your words doll," he forewarned. "what do you want from me?"

doing your best to not sound whiney or desperate, you replied, "can i please have your mouth? and use your necklace?" your boyfriend chuckled in spite of you, causing your cheeks to burn and your head to turn to the side. yet your request was greatly granted as yeosang pulled the lace down your legs and tossed them elsewhere. kissing up your inner thigh again, he reached your pressure point and kissed your clit like he did your chest earlier. only this time, instead of you sighing in content, you gasp in the sudden spike of pleasure.

with one more kiss, yeosang spread your legs apart even more. "use me how you want, guide me using my necklace even," he said as his tongue made contact with your cunt. you squirmed in place as the wet and warm, yet tender touch electrified you. you pushed yourself and your knees up, making your boyfriend move up and wrap his arms around your legs.

with each swipe of his tongue against your clit and throbbing hole, your sounds of pleasure grew louder and louder, with you tugging continuously on the chain and his hair, making him grunt into you. "fucking love this pussy," his muffled voice sounded as it vibrated around your folds, going back to flicking his tongue against your clit, bringing forth more moans from you.

you bucked and rolled your hips forward, going from having your hands lightly tugged his hair strands to having your feet planted on the floor while pulling hard on the chain around his neck, nearly choking him and sending pleasure through yeosang. hearing him let out a choked moan caused you to loosen your grip a little, but your hips stayed elevated as you were near the brink of release. "sangie, im about to cum," you did your best to tell him.

you swore you heard the phrase 'cum for me' come from his mouth, but since his mouth was on you, you only felt vibrations that kickstarted your orgasm. your legs began to shake as your boyfriend stayed between them, licking you clean before kissing you all over your cunt. you kept your legs open and slightly bent as yeosang trailed kisses up your side, hands helping himself up behind you until he reached to your face, kissing your lips and cheek. you reciprocated his physical affection before steadying your breathing again as he held onto you to help you go down from your high.

after relaxing, his fully gloved hand that rested on your stomach made a beeline from your breasts to your neck. lightly gripping you, you made a low groan as his other hand went from your stomach to your engorged clit. wrapping his fingers around your neck more firmly, his thumb rubbed in circular motions around the slight stretch on your neck while his middle finger circling around your soaked hole. "you want my fingers, doll?" he asked, his deep voice making your cunt leak more arousal.

nodding with tears formed in your eyes, you pleaded, "please sangie." he nodded before he pressed his lips to your cheek and nuzzled his nose against your neck. yeosang slowly inserted two fingers into you, stretching you more than your fingers ever could. you couldn't contain your cries as you started grinding your pussy into his fingers. letting go of your neck so he could better stroke you, he started kissing you all over your neck and shoulder.

yeosang looked up at you to see your current state. your eyes were glazed over, tears streaming down your face as your mouth was left open, drool lightly making a settling pool under you. he simply snickered and lightly taunted you. "look at my dirty doll, so open and exposed for no one but me. ive only given you appetizer, yet you're already fucked out."

moving his fully gloved hand to your mouth, he pushed two fingers on your tongue, telling you to "suck". your mushy brain did it's best to comprehend his order before your lips enclosed around the faux leather material. humming from the fresh yet slightly sweaty taste of the glove, yeosang worked his fingers inside of you, inserting a third one before curling his fingers and allowing his thumb to make circular motions on your clit. your walls tightened around him as your arousal coated his palm.

he grinned at you as you shook even more than before, signaling your impending orgasm. "wanna cum, baby? think you can make a bigger mess on my hands than on my face?" you nodded and whined a high-pitched 'please' before he gave you the go-ahead through his thumb rapidly swiping across your clit. your cunt clenched down around his fingers and you came hard, biting his other fingers lightly. still holding onto you, yeosang started stroking your clit again while talking you through your orgasm, which caused you to emit an audible hum of enjoyment.

kissing your cheek once more, he carefully pulled his fingers from both your mouth and pulsing core, making you shift your jaw about from the steady stretch and close your legs from the emptiness of you. your boyfriend still didn't cum, and you still wanted more. reaching up to meet each other again, you both made out in a more romantic way, tongues languidly chasing each other as you straddled yourself on one of yeosang's thick thighs. he slipped his fingers into your mouth that were coated with your juices. "taste how sweet you are," he told you.

your tongue quickly licked the sticky mixture off of them before you went to pull his boxers down enough for his lengthy cock to spring out. once you cleaned off his hand, yeosang pulled down your lacy bra until your breasts popped out. you started rocking your hips back and forth, licking one of your hands before reaching do to stroke him. as he groaned, he took your nipples in his mouth to muffle any further noises he'd make, wanting badly to only hear you.

you were panting heavily as you did your best to simultaneously rub your core on your boyfriend's thigh and stroked his length. meanwhile, yeosang had his mouth on your breasts, sucking and kissing them all over while his gloved hands grasped your ass tight. once you moved up and down his lap faster, yeosang was overcome with desire and his erection grew harder. he gripped your firm globes harder and teased your sensitive nipples with his teeth, sending shivers throughout your body and making you speed up your thrusting motions.

"s-sangie," you tried to call out for him, but he only grunted and forced your body closer to him, your palm continuously swiping the slit of his head. he groaned and pushed your hips down on him as he flexed his thigh, make you cry out. "fuck, yeosang. im gonna cum!" you did your best to pull back and lift yourself near yeosang's pelvis. "i want you to fill me up, please sangie, please!" you begged.

your boyfriend groaned as he swiftly pulled his boxers down and lined his strained cock to your aching entrance. when he entered you, you both let out a satisfied groan. helping you out of your bra, yeosang whispered to you, "im gonna fuck you so good until i wear you like a good cocksleeve."

[cosmicbucky]

chronicles

summary: the story of you and bucky as told through different dates

pairing: bucky barnes x female reader

word count: 3274

warnings: fluff, allusions to mature themes, brief swearing, implication of major death (i'm sorry in advance)

a/n: this is a rewrite of one of my old fics that i deleted lol - (time travelling)

《《《《 ♡ 》》》》

《《April 17th》》

You finished curling the last strand of hair, pinning it all neatly in place before staring at your reflection. You analyzed every inch of your face, scrutinizing each choice - was the lipstick the right shade? Were your cheeks too pink? Was your hair proper enough?

“Well, are you ready? It’s been ages!” you heard through the door, your best friend’s voice pulling you from your trance. 

You cleared your throat, dabbing your hands along your hair to press down any flyaways. “Coming!”

You pulled open the door, coming face to face with her as she leaned against the wall opposite you. She grinned, eyeing you up and down as you ran your hands along your dress, absently wondering if it was the right choice. 

She whistled playfully, chuckling softly. “Don’t you clean up well! This boy won’t know what hit him.”

You smiled confidently, your worries momentarily disappearing. “Thanks, sugar.”

A few beats of silence passed before a light knock came from the door of your tiny apartment. You gave your friend a pointed look, the nerves flooding back in an instant.

She smiled reassuringly at you, lightly shoving you down the hall. “Don’t be nervous. He’s a great guy, and he practically begged for a date with you,” she reminded you, hot on your heels.

You nodded, taking a deep breath as you entered the living room. “Okay. You’re right. I got this.”

Confidence restored within you, you walked over and opened the door, grinning at the sight.

“Well, don’t you look beautiful,” he greeted with a smile, eyes quickly trailing over you. “As always,” he added with a wink. 

“Thank you, James,” you said with a giggle, heat rising in your already pink cheeks as you took in his appearance; a well fitted suit, new looking shoes, slicked back hair. He really is as dashing as everyone says. “You look quite lovely yourself.”

He smiled and laughed, holding his hand out for you to take. “I told you. Call me Bucky.”

《《June 22nd》》

“Do you wanna go for a walk?” Bucky asked, sprawled out on the floor of his bedroom as you took up his bed.

You blinked up at the ceiling in shock before craning your neck to look down at him. “A walk? Buck, it’s a million degrees outside!” you said incredulously.

You were currently stuck in one of the worst heat waves to hit the city in years, and no matter how little you had on (in the privacy of yours or Bucky’s bedroom, of course) your skin still felt like it was melting off. Especially considering the activities that always resulted from the two of you wearing next to nothing; though, how could you ever complain about that?

Bucky sighed dramatically, groaning as he sat up. “Yeah, yeah, I know. But I’m going stir-crazy here and I figured me, you, and Stevie could go get some ice cream.”

You opened your mouth to say no, but you were met with puppy dogs that you can never say no to- and he knew it. 

“Alright,” you agreed, sitting up to get dressed. “You owe me one,” you teased, slipping on your blouse. 

“Anything for you, doll,” he agreed, smiling brightly. He jumped up and threw his clothes on in a matter of seconds, running to his door. “Steve, get your punk ass up! We’re going to get ice cream!” he called down the hall.

It was silent for a moment, before footsteps were heard puttering about in the room beside you. “Okay!” came his reply, muffled through the wall.

You giggled quietly and finished dressing, taking Bucky’s hand and heading to the living room where Steve was already waiting. 

The three of you strolled down the sunny street, Steve a few paces behind as you and Bucky chatted about how quiet it was with everyone hiding away inside. Steve never paid any mind to the fact that he was constantly a tagalong - you were always kind to him, and if he was being honest, he enjoyed watching the happiness that radiated from you and Bucky.

After a few agonizingly hot minutes, you all arrived at the parlour, quickly entering and placing an order as Bucky paid for everything.

“Thanks, Buck,” Steve mumbled through a mouth full of ice cream, trying to eat it all before it was lost to the sun.

“Yes, thank you, honey,” you agreed, giving him a sweet kiss that tasted like vanilla and strawberries.

He smiled into the kiss, chasing your lips before grinning at you and Steve. “Any time.”

《《October 3rd》》

“You are such a jerk!” you yelled at Bucky, huffing in exasperation.

“Oh, come on! It’s not my fault I’m better than you,” he argued back.

You glared at him for a moment before turning back to your pad of paper. “Stop sinking my stupid ships,” you mumbled angrily, marking another X on the page.

Bucky only laughed at you, shaking his head. “Come on, love. We can quit playing if you want.”

You scoffed. “I don’t need your pity. We’ll finish this.”

He laughed at you once more, and as you watched his eyes crinkle and face glow, you suddenly weren’t mad that he was winning any more. You were simply just happy to have this ridiculous man in your life.

“Alright, you sulk. Take your shot, let’s go. Try harder this time,” he teased, smirking at you.

You narrowed your eyes at him and set your shoulders, confidently declaring your next move. 

He studied his page for a moment before he slumped his shoulders, tossing his pencil onto the table. “Well,” he declared. “I’ll be damned”

“No way,” you doubted, a grin working its way onto your face.

He smiled at you, shrugging his shoulders. “You win, baby.”

You squealed gleefully, throwing your hands up in victory as you rambled on about being better than him.

Bucky stayed where he was, watching you in pure delight, amazed at how the littlest things can make you so happy.

After a few moments you settled down, turning your gaze back to him. “Maybe next time,” you said sympathetically, unable to keep the grin off your face.

Shaking his head with a laugh, he leaned over the table and gave you an affectionate kiss. “Maybe next time,” he agreed with a soft smile.

As he left to get you both a drink, you began putting away the game and couldn’t help but laugh as you took his sheet.

“Hey, don’t look at that!” you heard him say as he returned to the room, rushing to set the drinks down and take it from you.

“I barely sunk any ships, Buck,” you concluded, trying to take the sheet back.

“I know,” he agreed with a nod, tossing the paper into the box as he sat back down.

You chuckled and followed suit, sitting down in your previous spot on the floor. “You didn’t need to let me win, James.”

“I know,” he agreed again, continuing to put the game away.

“So then why did you?” you asked curiously, crossing your arms over the table as you studied his face.

He smiled softly, giving you a half shrug. “You get happy when you win,” he said simply, as if it was obvious.

You opened your mouth to reply, though before you could he continued speaking. “And you know, given that I’m in love with you and everything, there isn’t anything I want more than for you to be happy.”

“What?” you breathed out, stunned by his words; it was the first time he ever said them to you.

“What?” he asked, feigning obliviousness.

“What did you just say?” you asked quietly.

“I want you to be happy,” he said, taking a sip from his glass. 

“Before that,” you corrected, shaking your head. 

“You get happy when you win?” he asked, doing his best to fight off the giggles building in his chest. 

“Right in the middle,” you said, your lips twitching with the first signs of a smile. 

“Oh,” he said, pretending to only just now realize what you meant. “You mean when I said I was in love with you,” he said casually.

You smiled like a fool as he repeated the words, gazing softly at him. “I’m sorry, I still didn’t catch that. One more time?”

He beamed, reaching over to grab your waist and slide you closer to him. “I-” he began, placing a kiss on your nose. “Love-” he continued, pecking the apple of your cheek. “You,” he finished with one last kiss to your other cheek. 

“I love you, too,” you admitted through a fit of giggles, the smiles never leaving either of your faces as he captured your lips with his.

《《March 10th》》

“Bucky,” you whispered into the room, nudging the man sleeping beside you.

“Hm,” he hummed in response, tightening his grip on your waist as he pulled you closer.

“Guess what?" you urged, nudging him lightly once more. 

He sighed and rolled onto his back, keeping his hold of you. “What?” he asked gruffly, wiping sleep from his eyes. 

“It’s your birthday,” you sing-songed, giggling happily as you pecked his cheek. 

He groaned and turned his head towards you. “You woke me up for that?” he asked in annoyance, though the ghost of a smile was on his lips.

“Yes!” you exclaimed. “It’s a special day!”

Bucky simply scoffed, closing his eyes as he shook his head. “I have had many birthdays, doll. It isn’t a special day.”

You playfully slapped his arm, chuckling softly. “Not for you, silly. For me!”

Fully awake now, Bucky sat up. “Okay, I’m lost. Why is my birthday a special day for you… and not me?”

Grinning, you sat up as well. “Because, today is the day that I get to cater to the man who constantly caters to me,” you explained eagerly.

“And he doesn’t get to argue about it!” you quickly added when he opened his mouth to respond.

“Fine,” he sighed. “Then you don’t get to argue about this,” he said before he threw you back down on the bed, kissing every inch of your bare skin that he could find as you squealed in delight. 

“Baby, I need to get up,” you told him once your laughter died down a little.

He hummed against your neck, nipping at your skin. “You tellin’ me you’d rather leave than enjoy what I’m about to do to you? You know what? Don’t answer that. I’m the birthday boy, so I choose. You stay”

“Okay, but that means I can’t bake your cake,” you said with a giggle.

His movements stilled and he looked up at you with raised eyebrows. “Cake?” he asked. “Why didn’t you say that sooner?”

Leaping off the bed, he ran to the kitchen and left you to trail after him a moment later. You stood in the doorway, watching in amusement as he scurried about, opening and closing nearly all the cabinets. Yet, he wasn’t taking anything out.

“Buck?” you asked, wondering what he was doing,

He turned to you, an embarrassed smile on his face. “I have no idea how to bake a cake,” he confessed.

You laughed, pushing yourself off the frame and heading over to him.

“Well, let me teach you,” you offered, giving him a chaste kiss before grabbing your recipe cards. 

He watched in awe as you fished out the right card to give him before collecting the ingredients you picked up the day before. He listened eagerly, doing what you said with so much concentration you had to continuously kiss away the scrunch between his brows. 

Everything went well, and Bucky placed the pan in the oven with a proud smile before taking you in his arms.

“You know, maybe today is a special day for me after all,” he declared, placing a lingering kiss on your forehead. 

“Because you learned how to bake a cake?” you asked curiously, chuckling as you rested your head on his chest. 

He laughed, the vibrations beneath your head making you smile. “Because I learned how to bake a cake,” he confirmed, kissing the crown of your head. 

Though really, it was because today was the day he realized he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you - not that he’d tell you that. Not yet, anyway. 

After a few minutes, he pulled away with a small sigh. “Come on, let’s clean up.”

“Oh, I can do it, honey,” you said. “You go clean yourself up, you have icing on your face.”

“I do?” he asked, bringing up a hand to wipe at his face. 

“Yeah, right- there,” you said, smearing a blob of icing on his cheek. 

“You did not,” he said with a gasp, staring at you in shock. 

“Oh, I did,” you gloated, grinning mischievously. 

“You’ll regret that,” was the only warning he gave you before retaliating. 

Before you knew it, the kitchen was in even more ruin and you were sprawled out on the floor in a fit of laughter. 

You turned your head towards Bucky, taking his hand in yours. “Happy birthday, my love,” you said softly, a chuckle still in your voice. 

“May I unwrap my present now, please?” he asked, a smirk dancing across his face. 

“Only since you asked so nicely,” you teased, letting him gather you in his arms so he could finish what he started in the bedroom.

《《August 6th》》

“Game night?” Bucky asked from where he lay underneath you, gently toying with your hair.

The two of you were lounging lazily on the couch, boredom seeping into your bones.

“Game night,” you agreed, shifting so you could both sit up.

Bucky stood with a groan and made his way towards the door. “Wanna start setting up? I’ll go grab everything from the kitchen.”

“Of course,” you nodded, heading over and grabbing a few boxes from the shelf.

You placed them on the table, tossing the thickest pillows you two had on the floor before plopping down. You grabbed the box of battleship, smiling at the memory of how Bucky told you he loved you for the very first time. Your heart nearly leapt out of your throat as you emptied the contents and a ring twirled across the table.

“Bucky?” you called out, watching as it spun and spun before falling still.

When you realized you haven’t heard anything from him you called out again, standing up. “James-” you began, stopping short when you saw him behind you, down on one knee.

“Out of all the things I have done in my life… loving you, and being loved by you, has been my greatest success,” he started, your heart swelling at the way his voice trembled ever so slightly. “The moment I first saw you was the moment I believed angels were real, because how could you possibly be anything else? I still can’t believe you didn’t laugh in my face when I introduced myself - someone like you, actually giving me the time of day. I must have been the luckiest guy in the universe, and I still am, because you have shown me such happiness that I didn’t even know was possible, and cared for me in a way that I didn’t think anyone would. I have never been so sure of anything like the way I’m sure about us. So here I am, asking you, the love of my life, to be with me forever. So, how ‘bout it, angel? Will you marry me?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t answer. You could only stand there, nodding your head as you wiped at the tears streaming down your face before you threw yourself at him, tackling him to the floor in a flurry of cries and kisses.

“Does this mean yes?” Bucky asked nervously, his hands coming up to cup your face. 

“It means yes,” you told him. “Definitely yes.”

He let out a breath neither of you knew he was holding and kissed you one more time, pouring all the emotions and feelings he possibly could into it. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” he said urgently, scrambling over to the table. “May I?” he asked, holding his hand out to you. 

You grinned and giggled uncontrollably as you placed your hand in his, letting him slip the pretty ring onto your finger. 

《《January 11th》》

“Today’s the day,” Steve said, walking up behind Bucky and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Today’s the day,” Bucky repeated solemnly, turning to give his friend a half smile. 

Steve dropped his hand, placing himself in front of Bucky and brushing nonexistent fluff off his shoulders. “How are you feeling?”

“I don’t know how the hell to do this, Stevie,” admitted Bucky, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Steve nodded understandingly, taking a deep breath. “You remember how much you love her. How when you first saw her, you punched me - thanks for that, by the way - and you said ‘Stevie, you see that dame over there? I’m gonna marry her one day’. And you remember how you made that outrageous proclamation true.”

“That was pretty outrageous, wasn’t it?” replied Bucky, a laugh finally escaping him as he recalled the day.

Steve smiled in relief at the sound. “It really was, Buck. But your crazy ass was right. Like always.”

Bucky remained silent for a moment, the ghost of a smile on his face. “I had no idea someone could be so beautiful. I still can’t believe that someone like her could love me.”

“Me either,” Steve joked, playfully smacking Bucky’s arm.

Bucky looked at him, face stoic, before he let out a laugh. “Fuck you, Steve,” he said, shaking his head. He quickly fell silent again, as if he suddenly remembered where he was and why he was here. “God I miss her, Stevie.”

“I know, Buck. I do, too,” was the only thing Steve knew to say, a sad smile on his face. 

Bucky shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself not to cry. “I don’t think I’ll ever be as happy as I was when I was with her - and I’m okay with that. I can’t - I mean she was it, you know? And those memories of her, of us… of how she loved me, how she made me feel… it’s what gets me through every day now.”

“They’re good memories,” Steve confirmed sincerely, chuckling softly. “Really was an epic love, huh?”

“Absolute love of my life,” Bucky easily agreed. “All I can hope for is that she’s waiting for me when I can finally meet her again; she always was my angel.”

“She will be,” consoled Steve as he placed a bouquet by the headstone. “She was crazy about you.”

Bucky hummed, sitting down and setting his own flowers against the marble - a bouquet of all your favourites. “I think I’ll stay here a while, Stevie. Tell her about all the things she’s missed. Want to help?”

“Of course, Bucky. I would love to,” Steve said honestly, sitting down beside his friend.

The two of them sat there, sharing stories about the world they live in now, and how much things have changed since the three of you first met. Bucky knew you would love it, and it kills him that he can’t share it with you. That he can’t share the rest of his life with you like he was supposed to.

He sat there with his best friend and the ghost of his best girl, his heart aching and a piece of his soul missing. 

He sat there, with the years 1919-1987 staring back at him.

[stopsuckingdik]

𝑺𝑨𝑭𝑬 𝑯𝑶𝑼𝑺𝑬

This is like my first fan fiction, I'm slightly scared because I don't know what to write or how to do this or anything but give me much love y'all because my english and writing are slightly off 😜..

"𝑾𝒆𝒊𝒓𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒓𝒎𝒂𝒍 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒆. " - Quoted by me.

⊹ ֶָ ⭐️ ◞

Your crib was called — 'The safe place.' Your friends basically lived with you. Whenever their parents had a fight or they just wanted to eat , whatever it was , your house was there. It was always busy , but you wouldn’t want it any other way. tonight was no different ; laughter , chatter and three of your friends arguing about who's gonna get in what basketball team. It wasn’t rare that these three would argue over bullshit like that. Brian was in the kitchen with a few other people. He was probably the most mature yet immature in the house , funny am I right?. He's been your best friend for around..4 years if you round it up.

He was rummaging through the cabinets, making himself some hot cocoa in the middle of the goddamn summer. "Y/N, where in the hell is the chocolate power.." He huffed from the kitchen, nearly messing up your kitchen as he kept moving stuff and not putting it back. You huffed, putting down your strawberries since you were nearly tearing up some whipped cream and strawberries. "Hold on boy, I'm comin'.."

You got up from the couch, stretching a little bit as you made your way to the kitchen. You pitter pattered your way to the kitchen, fixing your spaghetti strapped T-shirt as you pulled up your joggers that were nearly falling off your ass as you walked. You made your way in the kitchen, scratching the back of your neck as you looked at the dark skinned boy. "What you look for, Brian?"

He looked back at you, having a glass in his hands while trying to find the stuff for his hot cocoa. "I'm trying to find your chocolate power but at this point it's a loss cause." He muttered, closing the cabinet he was in front of as he fully faced you, leaning his whole body on the counter.

He was attractive but....he was..how can I say this. He isn't a hoe but he's leaning that way, you know what I'm saying? But, there's no doubt he ain't fine. He was wearing a regular black shirt with someone long ass jean shorts with a belt. He was sagging enough for the hem of his Levi's to be showing (along with his v-line and happy trail 😜). He had a belt, but there really isn't a reason to be wearing it if this nigga not using it for the purpose to hold his pants up. He had dreads because of course dreadheads do it the best.(tf?) They were colored pink, purple, and orange, which actually looks way better than described. He had a couple of tattoos, like one on both his arms and one on his back but you haven't fully seen them, only a glance.

"It above the stove, in the cabinet. Did you not check there?" You asked him, giving him the most annoyed facial expression at the moment. He scratched his nose, giving you an awkward smile as he turned to the stove that was behind him and opened the cabinet, seeing a container that said 'Chocolate Power'. He looked back at you before grabbing it, smiling a little bit wider. "Thanks, I didn't know-" "Because you didn't look." You interrupted before letting out a deep puff of air.

He opened the box of power before putting a couple of scoops in the cup. "So, how's your new job?" He asked, looking up at you as he out the box back up. You fully walked in the kitchen, sitting on the tile counters and slumped your shoulders a bit. "It's good, just hate I'm working a night shift now." You worked at 7/11. I know, ain't the best job ever but the job actually pays good than any other that was near where you lived. He walked to the refrigerator, grabbing some milk and pouring it in the cup. "That's good, I might start working with you. I need another job since mine is just hoppin' on my dick for real." He put the milk back and closed the fridge, grabbing a spoon the was on the counter and started mixing the power and milk up.

You laughed a bit, kinda stoned from smoking all evening. "I mean, do what you gotta do. He might put you in they same shift since nobody is really on the same hour as me." You told him as you settled your hands in your lap. You saw Brian check you out, looking you up and down..well, more like your chest. You knew that he sometimes stared at you, even when wasn't looking, you could feel that boy burn eyes in the back of your head.

It was silent, the only thing that could be heard was the people in your living room just yelling and cussing their hearts out. "You got whipped cream on your chest." He pointed out, stopping his stirring as he removed his spoon and put the cup in the microwave.

You looked down, realizing you did actually have some on your chest. You sighed, realizing you didn't notice it at first when you first got up from the couch. You looked around the kitchen, seeing if you had any napkins or something to wipe it off. "Shit, I ain't got nothing to wipe off."

You swore his eyes lit up a little when you said that. He licked his lips a little bit. "I can wipe it off, I probably got something for it." he said, walking a little closer to you. You got slightly confused, wondering why he was walking so 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦. You know he was walking closer to give you whatever to wipe yourself off or something but he was 𝘵𝘰𝘰 close. You gulped softly, you guys just staring at each other as he out both his hands on the side of you. "You just..gonna look at me or..? "

You were slightly hesitant, he chuckled as he scratched his small beard on his chin. You didn't understand what was funny and why he was close, you started to be a little skeptical. "Nah, but I got you for real. " You were about to say something..until you were interrupted by a wet tongue licking your cleavage, licking all the whipped cream that was on your chest. You didn't know how to feel at the moment, but you were stunt. He stared up at you, sucking softly on your soft skin. You softly moaned, realizing how sensitive your chest was at the moment.

"Cute sound, didn't know a girl like you could make such noise." he commented, laughing a bit as he continued licking and sucking. Now, he was just doing this for fun. He slowly wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you more to the edge of the counter. More soft moans and whimpers escaped your chapped lips as you ran you hands through his dreads. "Wait, Brian. There's people in the living room, they could hear us." You warned him while tugging at his air to pull him away.

He smirked, looking up at you at he stopped for the moment. "Well, I guess you should keep quiet so they don't hear you. Right, ma?" He told you as he softly pulled the hem of your T-shirt down, exposing your breasts as they bounced a little bit. Your nipples started to harden from the cold air as you felt submissive at the moment. He started sucking on your nipples, swirling his pierced tongue around them.

You moaned, gripping his hair but not tugging at it. You arched your back softly, biting your bottom lip so you won't moan too loud to let the other know what you're doing with your '𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥'. "Shit, you're making me so hard, girl." He told him as he let you waist go and started fumbling with your breasts, sucking one and rubbing the other.

He stopped, pulling his mouth away as a soft 'pop' left his mouth as he did so. "Shit, who knew you could taste so sweet." You cleared your throat softly, breathing heavily as you started feeling your cunt slick up. He started fumbling with his jeans, not pulling then all the way down but down enough to see his boxers and see how hard and bricked up he was. He pulled his cock from his boxers, fapping it a little bit. Small squelching sounds being heard as he stroked himself with his precum. It was long, probably around..8 1/2 inches? Probably longer..

"How about we see how much of my dick can fit in your little cunt, yea?"

Y'all did I eat this up? I might make a part two since I enjoyed writing this 🤷🏾‍♀️, we'll see !

[vampzzi]

Hello! how are you? i hope you have a very nice and pleasant day/night! :D

i have an idea about.. e1610 Miles with a Childhood bestfriend reader, the reader thought that Miles were avoiding them which makes the reader upset when in reality Miles were busy with his duty as a spiderman

And Miles makes it up by comforting the reader and cleared the silly misunderstanding, then they ended up spending their time together again like how they used to be.

hehe! i just thinks its cute, im so sorry if it was too detailed! 😭

“TALK TO ME, PLEASE.”

Earth 1610! Miles Morales x GN! Reader

Author note; AWWW this is so cute omg. I’ll fix the grammar errors and stuff later. I’m on a roll rn

You — had been friends with Miles since kindergarten, you guys were even friends outside of school. You guys would go to the park together and hang out, always on the swings together. That all changed as life went on and you guys matured, Miles began being distant and it pulled at your heart strings to see it. You guys were close, he knew it something was wrong he could always talk to you, yet he never told you anything.

It started with him answering messages late to him not showing up to plans at all, he didn’t come to the mall when you guys were suppose to go the mall. You had texted him several times, no answer. It dawned upon you to stop bothering him, you yourself started being distant cause why would you text him if he’s gonna answer late or not show that he cares. All kinds of emotions strung out of you but it all came down to you laying in your bed, letting fat tears fall down your face as you sniffled and blew your nose into tissues as you put them in the trash can.

Your phone rang as you couldn’t bring yourself to answer it but decided to answer anyways. Miles voice filled your ear “I’m so sorry for being so inactive with you lately, things have been busy lately”.

You sniffled and you didn’t know if you could talk straight “W-Well, why didn’t tell me that?” you could hear Miles let out a low groan “ill come get you and we can talk about it face to face.” You didn’t even get to say anything before he hung up. You looked a hot mess as you walked to the bathroom and began to clean your face, letting the warm water touch your skin as you checked yourself after drying your face.

Shuffling quickly as you stumbled to your room to change into something presentable, you could hear a knock at your door as you were getting your shirt over your head before finally getting it on and sliding your shoes on with a slight struggle that almost made you fall. “Commingg!!” You say as you make it to the door to reveal Miles as he rubbed the back of your neck. “You ready to go?” Slowly nodding as you stepped outside and closed your door behind you

“Soo, what’s been keeping you so busy that you’ve been ignoring me and acting as if I don’t exist” Miles knew he had to tell you, he told you everything and it hurt him to see you like this as you walked along the bush sidewalk of Brooklyn. “I can’t tell you out in public but when we get somewhere private, I can tell you.”

“Alright.”

You two were in an alleyway and Miles looked at you as you were leaned against the wall, he was chewing at his bottom lip as he came clean. “You know Spider-Man right?” You looked at him “uh huh?” Silence slowly filled the air as the last two words left his mouth “I’m Spider-Man”. You thought he was joking as your brain processed it but it started to make sense, that costume in his closet, the small little marks you use to see on his skin.

“Well, why didn’t you tell me sooner? I would’ve been more understanding Miles”

“I know that, it’s just I don’t wanna put you in danger”

“I guess that’s understandable ” you mumbled as you couldn’t help yourself as you hugged him, you missed him so much. “Wanna get some ice cream, I’ll try my best to make it up to you.” You guys were making your way to an ice cream place as you had got your favorite ice cream flavor as Miles had cookies and cream while you guys strolled the sidewalk before hitting up the park just like old times.

“Aren’t we too old?”

Miles said as you giggled “never too old to have fun” as you got on the swing and he joined on the swing next to you as you guys swung on the swings. “I’m sorry once again” Miles apologized again as you looked at him “I forgive you Miles, just at least text me about it geez”

You and Miles sat on the swings as you watched the sun go down together.

[marislittlestories]

Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter

Mature | Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Spy Draco Malfoy, Draco Malfoy in the Muggle World, Hogwarts Eighth Year

1/10 - chapter two, three - read on ao3

june 1994 - may 1995

It’s summertime and Draco Malfoy is nearly fourteen. He clambers up the garden wall with bare feet that are already covered in little cuts and scratches, wincing at the sting and the sharp metallic scent in the air. He’s not afraid of heights in a serious way but when he makes it to the top, his head spins and his stomach drops and the soles of his feet itch.

He looks out over the woods behind the Manor. It was the first thing that Draco ever loved with any kind of intention. Not the house- it was too big, too quiet, too cold- but the grounds that surrounded it. He grew up hiding away here, running through these woods, discovering its secrets.

Like the enchanted clearing deep inside, where the weather is always exactly how you want it, and the way stars are brighter when you gaze at them through heavy green canopies. When he is lonely, he retreats into the thick foliage and treads the well-worn paths. When he wants to lash out, he goes to the clearing and he screams. His first manifestations of accidental magic were flowers growing behind him as he walked aimlessly through the trees.

He doesn’t make sense anywhere else.

His father is away, leaving him to wander while his mother sleeps. He eats his meals in the kitchens, where the house elves fuss over him and load his plate with extra sweets. Twila is the oldest elf at the Manor, and the oldest person Draco has ever met.

“Just look at the state of you,” Twila says, clucking at Draco’s dirtied and bloodied feet.

Twila told him once, years ago, that he would grow calluses on his feet and it would stop hurting so much but he never really did. His skin is still soft. She cleans the wounds with gentle hands and heals them with gentle magic. It feels wilder than the spells he’s taught at school, unruly but undoubtedly good. It doesn’t obey the same rules.

“Thank you,” he hugs her small, bony frame.

She’s mostly bald, like all house elves, but her head is covered in soft peach fuzz that tickles Draco’s neck when they embrace.

“Wear some shoes next time,” she scolds, but they both know he won’t obey. He likes the feeling of earth beneath his feet, of being surrounded so wholly by a world that bursts with life. A little pain, a little blood, is worth it.

Her daughter, Odie, works in the kitchens at Hogwarts. Together, the two of them make sure that Draco never feels too alone when he’s at school. Twila sends him hand made chocolates every month and Odie never turns him away, even though students aren’t allowed. It’s like a piece of home when he’s away, though never enough to completely ease the tension between his shoulder blades. He still ends up snapping at people, saying awful things, throwing fits over every inconvenience. He still ends up by himself, at the end of each day, staring up at the canopy of his bed, wishing that he was back in his woods.

He turns fourteen at the beginning of June, on a sunny day that seems endless. His birthday always falls just before or just after the term ends. He’s been home for three days, and his father has not been home and his mother has not spoken a single word.

Twila makes a cake, dusted in sugar and topped with blazing red strawberries and cream. He eats a piece in the kitchens and another outside in the furious sun. It’s meant to rain soon. The day passes quietly. It’s his best birthday so far, and it will remain his best birthday for a long time.

His father returns home, but he’s still absent, far-away. He doesn’t speak more than a few words at a time to Draco, and he has people coming in and out of the house at all hours. Draco would never say it out loud, but they all scare him a little. The men who slip into his father’s study are tall, and imposing, and sometimes they have this look in their eyes, like nothing in the world matters to them.

His father doesn’t acknowledge his birthday until the summer is winding down, and then he presents Draco with tickets to the World Cup. In all truthfulness, Draco doesn’t care that much about Quidditch when he’s not playing it. He doesn’t understand why the competition matters if you’re not the one working for it. He likes flying. He likes being outside and he likes the way the broom becomes an extension of his own body. He likes winning, being lifted up on the shoulders of his teammates. He likes feeling like he’s done something right.

He doesn’t like his father’s posturing. He doesn’t like looking up to see a row of people who hate him, feeling unsteady boards beneath his feet. He doesn’t like sitting in the Minister’s box, too far up to see the interesting parts clearly. He doesn’t like the noise of the crowd just below. He doesn’t like the anticipation that has no use, the adrenaline that goes nowhere. He doesn’t like that all he can think about right now is Harry’s dark, wild hair and even wilder eyes, the ones that have always made him remember the bright, endless green of the forest.

Afterwards, when the game has ended and Ireland has won, Lucius guides Draco down the steps on the stadium and looks over his shoulder at something. Some of the cheers have already shifted in screams. Lucius has that look, focused and determined, that Draco has seen enough to be wary of.

“Father,” he breathes, “What’s going on?”

Lucius won’t meet his eyes, “Stay here.”

Normally, Draco wouldn’t dare argue with him, but he reaches out and grabs Lucius’s wrist.

“Please,” his voice shakes.

Lucius doesn’t look annoyed or angry. Instead, he bends down slightly to stroke Draco’s hair, a gesture he assumes is supposed to be comforting but only really feels patronizing.

“It’s alright. Nothing bad will happen to you, I swear it. Find somewhere quiet to stand. I’ll find you after.”

Draco knows that his father has been working on something. All those meetings shut up in his study, the long days spent away from the Manor, have been in service of some larger plan. He knows this is it, or at least part of it. He knew this was going to happen, and he brought Draco here without arranging a way for him to leave.

Later, when Draco looks back on this moment, he remembers the last flash of hesitation and guilt on Lucius’s face. He remembers Lucius squeezing his hand and then letting it drop.

“I love you, Draco.”

He remembers Lucius walking away, leaving him standing alone in the field. He remembers thinking, not enough. You don’t love me enough.

***

The Dark Mark stains the black, overcast sky. Draco looks up at it and feels something change in him. He has spent his whole life alone, but this night is different, this night is a deeper, hungrier kind of loneliness.

He can already feel it eating at the edges of him.

The chaos lasts for hours. His father never does find him again, and Draco is taken home by a frazzled, overworked Auror who is unduly suspicious of him, given that he is only fourteen. The sun hasn’t risen yet, hasn’t even started to edge over the woods, but he can see it coming in the color of the horizon.

Twila makes him tea. He shakes in the kitchen, and then he shakes as he climbs the stairs, and then he shakes in his bed.

Draco looks in the mirror the next morning, and he no longer looks like a child. He’s not sure when that happened. He doesn’t grieve it, not quite yet, but he will. He will grieve it desperately, fruitlessly. For now, he only understands. He understands why the Auror had turned her narrowed, accusatory eyes on him.

He looks more like his father than he ever has before.

***

Pansy finds him on the platform and drags him onto the train without saying a single word. He’s relieved and frightened in equal measure.

“Talk,” she demands as soon as they’re seated across from each other in their usual compartment.

He squirms under her gaze, “What do you want to know?”

Pansy’s got a way of making you feel like you’re a bug pinned behind glass. It’s a useful skill when she’s on your side. Right now, Draco does not feel particularly grateful.

“I know something happened at the World Cup. Something big. I hate when things happen over summer hols.”

Pansy’s dad doesn’t get the Prophet delivered. It’s a frequent topic.

“I don’t even know what happened, and I was there,” Draco says dejectedly. He hadn’t thought about that part of it, about the fact that people were going to be gossiping about it and telling outrageously hyperbolic stories about some cousin that was there or a thing their parents know.

He can’t exactly brag about getting abandoned in a field.

Pansy sighs, “Useless. I don’t know why I even bothered.”

Draco takes this as a sign that she’s going to drop it, and leans his forehead against the glass, staring out the window. They haven’t left the station yet, so all he sees are other students saying goodbye to their families. He feels like crying, which is humiliating. He can’t cry here, especially not in front of Pansy. She would never forget it, and she’d never let him forget it either.

“You must have seen something,” she needles.

“Not really. Everyone was screaming and running, and I was just standing around. A fucking Auror took me home.”

Pansy frowns at him, “Weren’t you with your parents?”

Draco looks at her incredulously. Pansy may be allergic to sentiment or serious conversations, but they’ve been friends long enough that she knows his mother hasn’t left the house in years, even if they’ve never spoken about it directly.

“I mean, your dad was there, right?”

“We got separated,” Draco shrugs, and hopes that he’s pulling off unbothered, “Like I said, it was madness. Couldn’t see anything.”

She purses her lips. It makes her look about forty, which is something he is never going to say to her out loud. There are a lot of things he doesn’t tell her, beginning with anything about what his father is up to. He’s fairly certain it’s mostly illegal, and probably not the kind that’s cool in any way.

“Someone put up the Dark Mark,” he says, because she’s going to find out eventually if everyone is talking about it, “That’s the only thing I saw.”

She reaches over to slap him upside the head, “And why didn’t you lead with that? I swear to Merlin, you are the worst friend ever. You’re going to tank my social standing if you keep going on like this.”

“I don’t think your social standing can be tanked, to be fair. Everyone’s too scared of you.”

She tilts her chin up in pride, “I suppose.”

The train begins to pull out of King’s Cross. The window is cold against his temple. Pansy begins to recount her entire summer- neither of them are very good at keeping up correspondence- in excruciating detail. Her half-brother, Aster, is ten years old and apparently very annoying. Draco doesn’t really understand the mixture of venom and honey in Pansy’s voice when she talks about him, the devotion and the disdain.

Maybe it’s because he’s an only child. Maybe it’s because his mess of feelings towards his mother and father seem infinitely more complicated, and more shallow.

“I honestly don’t know how I’ll cope next year when he’s at Hogwarts,” Pansy says, examining her fingernails, “I suspect it’ll be the worst time of my life to date.”

He shrugs, “Maybe he won’t be in Slytherin and you’ll hardly see each other.”

She looks horrified at that proposition, “Oh no. He could be in Hufflepuff!”

Draco bursts into laughter.

“This is serious,” Pansy hisses, “I’m going to have to take him under my wing, Draco. He needs to toughen up before that stupid hat gets a whiff of him.”

“Pans, he’s survived ten years being related to you. He’ll have to be the toughest first year the sorting hat’s ever seen.”

Like always, the appeal to Pansy’s pride is successful. She calms a bit. They’re discussing the costs and benefits of having a Ravenclaw for a younger sibling when Blaise slips into the compartment.

“Where have you been?” Pansy asks, narrowing her eyes. She may be angry at him, but it seems more like apprehension and curiosity. If he’s got a good story out of the last twenty minutes, he’ll be forgiven instantly.

Blaise folds himself onto the bench wordlessly.

“Pansy’s afraid Aster will be a Hufflepuff,” Draco supplies.

Blaise scoffs, “Please. He’s a halfblood, not an idiot.”

Pansy can’t decide how to take it. Blaise has never been particularly adamant about blood purity, one way or the other, but as a relatively new addition to her inner circle, she’s still a little wary of him. She’s never said any of this to Draco, of course, but he knows. Just like she knows that Draco tends to use whatever word will sting, regardless of how he really feels about it.

She knows he doesn’t think Aster is less of a wizard than she is. Unfortunately, this also means she knows he doesn’t think Hermione Granger is less of a wizard either. It’s quite embarrassing sometimes, to have someone see through his blustering. Mostly, it’s another thing that keeps him sane at school.

“Oh, stop looking at me like that,” Blaise complains, wrinkling his nose, “My mother’s last husband was part yeti. I’m not exactly in a position to judge.”

“I thought that was her current husband?”

He grins, “Oh, she disposed of him before I made it to Florence for the summer. This one’s a government official of some kind.”

Pansy leans forward, “How’d she do it this time?”

This is what had drawn Pansy in, really. She overheard Blaise attempting to terrify a couple first years into leaving him alone, and she was hooked. She likes nothing more than a good story, defined by the amount of blood and scandal, and Blaise’s are the best. As he tells it, in the same dry, almost reluctant tone his voice always seems to carry, Draco zones out.

He drinks in the faint warmth of the sun through the window and tries to relax. In the short few hours he’s been away from home, he’s already collected a store of tension in his shoulders and down his spine. His jaw is the worst of all, permanently clenched.

“This isn’t even the most exciting thing we could be talking about,” Blaise says slowly.

Pansy brightens, “Did you hear about the World Cup?”

He waves a hand dismissively, “Yes, but that’s not what I meant. Mum’s husband, the government official, let something slip when he was drunk a few weeks ago. There’s supposed to be a tournament at Hogwarts.”

“A tournament?”

Blaise tries to suppress his smile and remain aloof, but he’s still a fourteen year old boy.

“Yes,” he pauses, “The TriWizard Tournament.”

Pansy gasps audibly. Draco, for reasons he can’t fully articulate, feels dread pooling in his stomach.

“Oh, this is going to be the best year ever.”

Blaise glances at him, noting his silence but not calling attention to it. Draco decides then that Blaise can stay, not that it was ever up to him. Pansy’s always set the rules and parameters of their friendship and he’s not about to upset the balance.

When they arrive at the castle and Pansy is temporarily distracted by a group of fifth-year girls exclaiming over her manicure, Blaise tugs on his elbow.

“You think it’s a bad idea,” he says seriously.

Draco is suddenly aware that Blaise witnessed all the gory details that Pansy delights over. He may put on a good show, cool and detached, but he’s not ignorant to the gravity of it all.

“We’ve all been going to the same school, right?” he replies quietly.

Blaise frowns, but it’s not directed towards Draco. It’s like he’s agreeing. There was a mass murderer wandering the halls just last year, and now they’re resurrecting a tradition that’s infamous for its fatalities.

“It’s like Dumbledore is inviting this shit in,” Draco shakes his head, “There’s no amount of money or glory that would make me participate.”

“Well, last time it was a simple lottery I think. You may not have a choice.”

He’s on edge when they settle at their table in the Great Hall. It’s a small miracle that Crabbe and Goyle have been partially absorbed into a group of third-year Slytherins. Pansy hates both of them, probably because they can barely string a sentence together, and Draco isn’t exactly clamoring for more time with them. He’d hung around with them because their fathers hung around Lucius. Both of them had been among the people circulating through the Manor this summer, which only makes Draco want to be friends with them less now.

Pansy taps a steady rhythm on the table with her nails, glossy and pitch black. Blaise picks at his food. The first years get sorted and Dumbledore stands up for his usual speech. Canceling quidditch for the year is an unwelcome surprise, but the three of them remain cool and disinterested when the tournament is announced. It’s a relief that the rules have been amended- one must volunteer, and anyone under seventeen is ineligible.

“Aren’t you excited?” an older girl asks Pansy.

She sniffs, “Honestly.”

The other girl deflates a little. It’s almost funny. Draco knows that Pansy has probably never looked forward to anything more. A front row to a potentially lethal competition? A slew of foreign students? She’s ecstatic.

She’d never tell anyone, of course. There are only two things she cares about more than drama: Aster and social capital. Draco suspects that the two are connected.

“Well,” Blaise drawls, “At least the year won’t be terribly boring.”

That’s when it happens. Draco glances up from the table, surveying the room before him. He isn’t looking for anyone in particular, which is strange in itself. He hasn’t so much as thought about Potter since the World Cup, too much else on his mind, but he sees Harry at just the right moment, head thrown back in careless laughter.

He sees it and he feels a pins-and-needles sensation on the soles of his feet, the same one he feels when he stands on the garden wall or climbs the trees that line his clearing, the beckoning of a dead drop. It’s a promise, he knows, of pain.

There is something burning in him. He already knows what it means to love, and to hurt, and to make his hope into something so quiet it can barely survive. He doesn’t know that this will be worse. How can he? He is only just fourteen.

***

Pansy takes two and a half days to comment on it.

“You better not be scheming without me,” she says with a withering glare, “You know you’re no good at it.”

“No scheming.”

“I don’t believe you. You’ve been staring at Potter again. I mean, you look even more deranged than last year, and that’s not exactly a low bar to clear.”

Blaise clears his throat. They’re sat around a table in the library, tucked away in a musty, forgotten corner. Still, someone could easily overhear their conversation.

Pansy lowers her voice to a whisper, “Just tell me what you’re planning. It’s likely awful.”

“I’m not planning anything.”

His traitorous face heats. Pansy’s eyebrows shoot up. Blaise notices the unusually long silence and looks up from his Charms essay.

“Holy shit,” he says brightly, “Seriously?”

Pansy reaches over to poke at his ribs, but they’re on opposite sides of the table so she doesn’t quite manage it, “You little disaster. Is that what this was the whole time?”

“You’re both dead to me,” Draco announces.

“Don’t avoid the question.”

“No,” he mutters, “It’s a recent development.”

Blaise leans into Pansy’s side with a sly smile, “It’s more interesting, isn’t it? Complex.”

Pansy gets this hungry look in her eyes, one that Draco is in constant fear of. He sends Blaise a scathing glare.

“I already have ideas,” she says, “So many.”

Draco’s face must reflect the mounting horror he feels.

Pansy cackles, “Oh, this is going to be the best year ever!”

***

The students from Durmstrang and Beauxbaton arrive the day before Halloween. Everyone makes a big fuss about it, with classes ending early and the dramatic entrances and Viktor Krum among the Durmstrang students.

For some reason, Dumbledore has made the unilateral decision that the girls and boys from Durmstrang, who all look pale and slightly underfed, will be folded into Slytherin for the remainder of the school year. It’s baffling, to say the least. They’d fit in better with the brash arrogance of Gryffindor, or the studied discipline of Ravenclaw. Slytherin house is lazier, indulgent, and entirely too underhanded.

Pansy makes a few passing attempts to befriend some of the prettier girls in the group, but they don’t seem to respond to sarcasm or sly jokes. By the end of that first night, she’s given up entirely. The three of them take refuge in the library between their afternoon classes and dinner the next day, when they’d usually be capitalizing on the relatively empty dorms.

“They’re sort of… scary,” Pansy says, and Draco can’t help but gape at her.

It’s an impossible feat to get Pansy to admit she’s afraid or intimidated in any way, or at least Draco had thought it was impossible.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she snaps, flicking her hair over her shoulder.

It’s grown just long enough for her to do that, and he knows it’s bothering her, but the last time she’d used a spell on her hair, it had been a traumatizing experience. She doesn’t trust anyone with her hair besides the French hairdresser she goes to in London now.

Blaise shrugs, “It’s a bit of a shock to the system, hearing you say that.”

“You think they’re scary too,” she insists.

“Sure,” Draco says carefully, “But you’re not scared of anything.”

Pansy rolls her eyes at the both of them, “I didn’t say I was scared of them. I said they’re scary. There’s a difference.”

“If you say so,” Blaise replies, amused.

“I guess what I mean is… there’s something unsettling about them. Unpleasant. Not because they’re awful or annoying or anything, just. You don’t like looking at them for too long, do you?”

Draco suddenly understands exactly what she means, “No. No, you don’t.”

Blaise looks like he wants to throw them off the astronomy tower, “That makes no fucking sense.”

“Like, it’s uncomfortable.”

Draco feels something, a twinge or a tide, in his chest, “It’s sad. It’s sad to look at them. They’re miserable and you can see it so clearly that you can’t help but want to look away.”

Pansy doesn’t voice her agreement, but he can see it on her face.

***

Draco fiddles with the enchantment and then presents it for Pansy’s judgment.

She giggles, “Merlin. You can’t be serious.”

The photo of Harry has morphed into an illustration, in the style of the Japanese comics that Pansy and her brother are obsessed with. His startling green eyes are huge and watery, his black curls somehow even thicker and messier, scar striking out dramatically across his forehead. He, of course, looks like an action hero, even with the cartoon blush on his cheeks.

Draco adds bright red bubble letters, spelling out THE CHAMPION OF OUR HEARTS in an arc above the illustration.

“Are you really going to wear that?” Blaise asks, appalled.

Draco scowls at him, “Of course not. It’s a joke.”

Pansy and Blaise exchange a skeptical glance. He’s definitely not going to wear it, or anything like it. He’d probably spontaneously combust the second someone saw him. For Merlin’s sake, he has a reputation to uphold, no matter how warm and floaty he feels when Harry smiles or rolls his eyes or does anything, really.

Pansy takes a crack at it. He has to explain the combination of charms to her a few times, pointing out where they overlap and intersect, and how to alter the different facets of the pin. It makes her ill-tempered for fifteen minutes or so, but once she gets it, she gleefully sets about making the buttons more and more atrocious.

First, she adds little hearts to Harry’s eyes and a large pink bow to his hair. The letters turn pink, too, and form the words GRYFFINDOR’S SWEETHEART. Another says HARRY POTTER PROTECTION COMMITTEE. Another is a clumsy rendering of Cedric and NOT MY CHAMPION. After half an hour, they’ve amassed quite the collection and have collapsed on the floor, laughing.

It’s possibly the most fun Draco’s had all year, and it’s the first time he hasn’t really worried about whether Pansy and Blaise are going to think he’s lame or too emotional. For one bright, sparkling moment, he imagines having this for the rest of school and he feels that, maybe, he isn’t going to be missing the Manor quite so much.

“What are you doing?” Crabbe’s flat, sullen voice says from behind them.

They don’t hesitate or even exchange a look before jumping into action. Blaise moves so that the buttons are obscured from vision, Pansy asks Crabbe some inane question that he surely doesn’t know the answer to, and Draco closes his eyes and concentrates. With a subtle wave of his wand, he changes all of the buttons to a uniform image of Harry’s face and the text to read ‘Potter Stinks’.

It’s hardly his most original or groundbreaking work, but he’s running on adrenaline and a tight deadline. It’ll do.

Crabbe shrugs Pansy off and peers over Blaise’s shoulder, “Oh, those are brilliant!”

They’re so distracted trying to get rid of him that they don’t realize he’d swiped a few buttons until the next day, when they’ve begun to spread through the school.

Pansy laughs in his face the first time a Hufflepuff comes up to him and asks if he has any more.

“You do realize these things don’t happen to other people?” she tries to catch her breath, “Only you, Draco. This could only happen to you.”

Shockingly, this doesn’t make him feel better.

“Yeah, thanks for pointing that out.”

“You’re welcome,” she says cheerfully and her giggles eventually taper off.

He pouts.

“Well, there’s nothing to be done about it now.”

Pansy, ever the pragmatist, uses it as an opportunity to amass power. She hands out the pins to everyone who asks with the attitude of a gracious deity, too far above petty human squabbles to fully understand or care, but providing aid all the same. There’s nothing Slytherins like quite so much as a distant overlord, and with the three of them refraining from participating directly in inter-house warfare, they’ve never been so revered.

“I think,” she says, with a satisfied smile, “This leaf you’ve turned over is going to work out just fine.”

They’re lounging in the common room, under a muffling charm. It’s become commonplace for them to cast it as soon as they settle anywhere, in the Great Hall or the library or even in the dorms.

“And what leaf would that be?”

“The only person you’ve bullied since the beginning of term is Potter, and really, no one could expect you to give up that particular pastime.”

“Shut the fuck up,” he says lazily.

She pats his head, “I’m saying good job!”

He pushes her off, almost toppling her from the couch. She attacks him with a shriek, digging her nails into his forearms until he surrenders.

“Okay, okay, stop,” he gasps, “You win.”

She smiles imperiously, “As always. But really, it’s much better to just act like everyone is beneath your notice. Much more dignified.”

“Well I’m glad to hear I’m not embarrassing you anymore,” he replies sarcastically.

“Yes,” she nods, “It’s been such a relief.”

***

Draco finds that he does not particularly like blood sport, especially not when it means Harry Potter facing down a dragon. He’s in the stands, Blaise and Pansy on either side of him, crushing both of their hands in his tight, unyielding grip.

Pansy glares at him a few times when he squeezes especially hard, but she doesn’t say anything or tug her hand away. Blaise doesn’t even acknowledge it.

When Harry makes it out alive, wins, Draco has to force himself to stay seated.

***

The Yule Ball is possibly the worst thing that could have happened to him. He plans to ask one of the girls in the year below them, because they won’t reject him and it’ll give them something to gossip about with their friends, but when he asks Pansy for suggestions, she just tilts her head.

“You know, you could ask…” she doesn’t bother finishing the sentence. They all know who she’s talking about.

Blaise hides a smile. Draco gapes at her.

“Absolutely not.”

Pansy shrugs, “Fine. I’ll go with you.”

Draco thinks that might be even worse, but in the interest of self-preservation, he keeps his mouth shut. Pansy gets that dangerously hard look in her eyes, the look that means she’s made up her mind. He is, as always, terrified of it.

“It’s up to you,” Pansy says with a grin, “Ask him, or take me.”

He chooses the lesser of two evils. Pansy is a terror on a good day, and he has no doubt that she has some sort of plan to make his night truly miserable, but there is no way he’s asking Harry to the Yule Ball. Not only would he get instantly rejected, he’d be a laughingstock in Slytherin. Even his friendship with Pansy wouldn’t save him.

In the end, it’s not the worst thing he’s ever done. Pansy is in a merciful sort of mood, and she doesn’t step on his toes too much while they dance. She even distracts him with an argument about the Potions final while the champions enter.

He’s desperate to get home, to have two blessed weeks of quiet, but he finds that he will really miss Pansy and Blaise, in a way he’s never missed anything but home before.

***

Draco makes summer rain, falling light and warm on his face. He’ll spend all afternoon here, in his clearing, calling the sun when he’s ready and taking a nap while he finishes drying. He goes back to the Manor when the sun outside of the clearing starts to set, barely making it back in time for dinner. His father is absent. His mother makes her singular appearance of the day.

She’s distant. He tries to be gentle with her, ask her how she’s feeling, be a good son. He kisses her forehead when he’s dismissed. Her fingers twitch on the table.

This is the only kind of love that Draco has ever known, the kind he keeps choosing, the kind that keeps aching. For the first time, it’s like he can see outside of it. He can see Pansy and Blaise, all that warmth and lightness and the unshakeable, unwavering support.

He can see Harry, as he was in the Great Hall on the first night of fall term, laughing.

***

Harry Potter comes out of the maze with a dead body and a look on his face that will haunt Draco for the rest of his life. He screams and clutches at Cedric. Draco sees death, real death, for the very first time and he cannot make a sound. They are fourteen years old.

[lanveurskincare]

Age Gracefully with Lanveur Botanica: Skin Care for Older Women

The best products for skin care for older women are luxurious, gentle, and effective, making them the perfect addition to your skincare routine. Visit our website to learn more about our products and start your journey to healthier, more youthful-looking skin.

[dermac1]

Skincare for Different Age Groups: Tailoring routines from teens to seniors.

Skincare for Different Age Groups: Tailoring routines from teens to seniors.

Age, hormone fluctuations, and environmental variables all have a significant impact on our skincare requirements as we age. From teenagers struggling with acne to elders looking for hydration and repair, We are the Best Skin Clinic in Model Town, New Delhi, recognizing the value of customizing skincare regimens to suit all age groups. This is a thorough reference to skincare for people of all ages.

Skincare for Teens

Significant hormonal changes that occur during adolescence might result in acne and increased oil production. Maintaining healthy skin requires establishing a good skincare regimen early on.

Essential Steps:

Cleaning: To get rid of extra oil and grime, use a mild cleaner twice a day. To effectively treat acne, look for treatments that contain benzoyl peroxide or salicylic acid.

Moisturizing: To keep the skin hydrated without clogging pores, use a mild, non-comedogenic moisturizer.

Sun Protection: To guard against UV ray damage and delay the onset of premature aging, it is imperative to apply a broad-spectrum sunscreen with at least SPF 30 every day.

Additional Tips:

Steer clear of strong scrubs that might cause skin irritation.

Avoid popping pimples as this may cause scarring.

If necessary, use a toner; however, to prevent drying out the skin, use alcohol-free alternatives.

Skincare for Young Adults (20s-30s)

Young adults may still get breakouts, but their skin starts to exhibit early aging symptoms. Now is the ideal moment to start a more thorough skincare regimen.

Essential Steps:

Cleaning: Keep using a mild cleanser, but once or twice a week, think about using exfoliating cleansers that contain beta-hydroxy acids (BHAs) or alpha-hydroxy acids (AHAs).

Targeted Treatments: Use serums containing active components such as retinoids for anti-aging effects and hyaluronic acid for hydration.

Moisturizing: To promote skin restoration, use a heavier cream at night and an oil-free moisturizer during the day.

Sun Protection: Continue wearing sunscreen every day; for extra protection, look for products that also include antioxidants like vitamin C.

Additional Tips:

Use tailored treatments to address particular issues like uneven texture or black patches.

For general skin health, drink enough water and eat a healthy, balanced diet.

Skincare for Adults (40s-50s)

Skin continues to alter as we approach our 40s and 50s, becoming less elastic and moisturizing. A customized regimen can aid in overcoming these problems.

Essential Steps:

Cleaning: Make use of a moisturizing cleanser that doesn't remove the skin's natural oils.

Exfoliation: Exfoliating your skin 1-2 times a week encourages cell turnover and helps get rid of dead skin cells.

Moisturizing: To increase skin barrier function and replenish moisture, choose richer creams that contain peptides and ceramides.

Sun Protection: Keep using broad-spectrum sunscreen every day; during the hottest parts of the day, think about donning hats or finding shade.

Additional Tips:

For extra hydration, use overnight masks or face oils.

Consult a dermatologist on a regular basis to review and modify your skincare routine.

Skincare for Seniors (60+)

Because of things like slower cell turnover and decreased oil production, mature skin frequently needs more attention. A regimen that is both mild and effective is crucial.

Essential Steps:

Cleaning: Select moisturizing, creamy cleansers that moisturize and calm dry skin.

Moisturizing: To fight dryness, use thick creams enhanced with humectants and emollients.

Targeted Treatments: To enhance texture and tone, think about utilizing growth factors or retinoids under a dermatologist's supervision.

Sun Protection: Use sunscreen every day; for further benefits, look into tinted moisturizers with SPF.

Additional Tips:

Because the neck and décolletage frequently exhibit indications of aging, pay special attention to their care.

To promote skin health from the inside out, continue to be active and eat a diet high in antioxidants.

Conclusion

We at Dermac Clinic in Model Town, New Delhi, support customized skincare regimens that change as people go through different phases of life. You can keep healthy, glowing skin for the rest of your life by being aware of the particular requirements of your skin at different ages. Our team is here to assist you successfully navigate your skincare journey, whether you're a senior seeking hydration solutions or an adolescent struggling with acne.

Book a consultation with us right now for individualized guidance catered to your unique requirements! Dermac Clinic is where your path to better skin begins.

[helthcareheven]

Hydration Station: Dive into Hyaluronic Acid's Moisture Magic

What is Hyaluronic Acid? Hyaluronic acid (HA) is a polysaccharide or sugar molecule that occurs naturally in the human body. It plays a key structural and lubricating role in the skin, and is found abundantly in the tissues and fluid that surround our cells. HA helps bind water molecules to the skin, keeping it moisturized and plump. As we age, our natural HA levels decline, resulting in dry, sagging skin. This is where topical HA products come in.

How Does Hyaluronic Acid Work on Skin? When applied to the skin, HA works both on the surface and deep within the dermal layers. On the surface, it forms a protective barrier that prevents water loss. It can bind up to 1000 times its weight in water, replenishing lost moisture. But its real magic happens beneath the surface. As a humectant, HA pulls water molecules from deep dermal layers and the atmosphere, helping to plump fine lines and wrinkles from within. It also lubricates and cushions skin, improving elasticity, firmness and promoting collagen production over time.

Low Molecular Weight vs. High Molecular Weight HA Hyaluronic acid comes in different molecular weights. Low molecular weight HA (LMW-HA) penetrates deeply into the skin but doesn't hold onto moisture for very long. High molecular weight HA (HMW-HA) is bigger in size so it doesn't absorb as easily. However, it forms a long-lasting, plumping protective barrier on the skin’s surface. For best results, look for products containing both LMW-HA and HMW-HA. The low weights boost collagen production while the high weights seal in hydration.

Benefits of Using a Hyaluronic Acid Serum An HA serum is a lightweight, liquid formulation that absorbs quickly to deeply hydrate and smooth skin. Here are some of its key benefits:

- Plumps and fills fine lines and wrinkles - Improves skin elasticity and bounce - Diminishes the appearance of scars and stretch marks - Delivers long-lasting hydration - soothes redness and irritation - Protects against environmental damage - Promotes collagen and elastin production - Leaves a smooth, glowing complexion

Look for an HA serum with multiple lower and higher weight varieties for maximum effectiveness. A few drops morning and night onto clean, damp skin is all that’s needed. Over time, skin will look lifted, brighter and significantly younger.

Hyaluronic Acid Creams for Older Skin As we age past our 40s and 50s, skin loses its ability to effectively produce HA on its own. A thick hydrating HA cream is ideal for nourishing mature, dry complexions. Compared to a thin serum, a cream:

- Contains more emollient oils and butters to deeply condition - Forms an occlusive barrier on skin to seal in hydration - Softly exfoliates with AHA/BHA ingredients - Supplies antioxidants for protection - Helps fade dark spots and discoloration - Soothes flaky, tight skin

Look for an anti-aging HA cream containing shea butter, jojoba oil, glycerin and vitamin E. Gently massaged into the face and neck twice daily after cleansing, it replenishes vital lipids to the driest areas. Within weeks, skin will feel plump, soft and noticeably firmer in texture and appearance.

The Power of Hyaluronic Acid Face Masks For an intense weekly or bi-weekly moisture boost, try an HA-infused facial mask. This thick leave-on formula saturates skin like a mini spa treatment at home. Super hydrators like Glycerin enhance its water-trapping abilities for up to 24 hours afterward. Key benefits of using a HA face mask include:

- Rapidly reduces the look of fine lines and wrinkles - Restores skin barrier function and brightness - Temporarily tightens and lifts sagging contours - Leaves a visibly plumped, dewy complexion - Soothes redness and flakiness - Improves skin texture and tone

An HA mask applied for 10-15 minutes 1-2 times a week is all that’s required to maintain continual youthfulness and moisture balance. The results are nothing short of glowing.

In Summary Hyaluronic acid genuinely delivers anti-aging benefits when used topically. Products containing optimal concentrations and MW distributions target both skin's surface and deeper layers for complete, long-lasting hydration. Regular use can significantly smooth fine lines, augment elasticity and make mature skins look lifted, plumper and more radiant over time. Hyaluronic acid truly earns its title as a gold standard ingredient in anti-aging skincare. With consistency, it works powerful yet gentle magic on all complexion types.

[lanveurskincare]

Top Anti-Aging Creams for Women Over 60

Discover the best anti-aging creams designed specifically for women over 60. These creams help reduce fine lines, wrinkles, and age spots while boosting hydration and improving skin elasticity for a more youthful and radiant complexion.

[mugguskincare]

Neck Brightening Cream for Women: Debunking Common Myths and Misconceptions

When it comes to skincare, there are several myths and misconceptions out there. One area that has been shrouded in mystery is neck brightening creams. Are they really effective? Do they cause any harm? In this blog, we will debunk the common myths and misconceptions surrounding neck brightening creams for women.

So, let’s begin!

5 Common Myths About Neck Brightening Cream For Women

Below are some myths about neck brightening cream.

MYTH 1: Neck Brightening Creams Are Only for Mature Women

One of the most common myths about neck brightening creams is that they are only suitable for mature women.

FACT: This is not true. Age is just a number, and anyone can use this Underarm cream for women to improve the appearance of their skin. It is never too early or too late to start caring for your skin.

MYTH 2: Neck Brightening Creams Are Not Effective

Another myth surrounding neck brightening creams is that they are not effective.

FACT: This is also untrue. Neck brightening creams contain active ingredients such as vitamin C, niacinamide, and kojic acid, renowned for brightening the skin. With regular use, Koji Drops cream can produce visible results.

MYTH3: Neck Brightening Creams Are Expensive

Some people think that neck brightening creams are costly.

FACT: Contrary to popular belief, neck brightening creams are not necessarily expensive. There are many affordable options available in the market that can produce effective results. Choosing a brightening cream that is best for your skin and also under budget is essential.

Conclusion

Neck brightening creams are an excellent addition to your skincare routine. However, it is essential to separate the facts from fiction and make an informed decision before using any product on your skin. Choose a neck brightening cream that suits your skin type, budget, and skincare needs, and enjoy a radiant and glowing neck.

Have you ever tried any neck brightening cream before? If so, what were your experiences and results? Share your opinions!

[beautysmartskincare]

Mandarin Moisturizing Cream Cleanser

$35.00

Dry, Dehydrated, Sun-Damaged, Mature + Devitalized Skin

Tip! Safe for use on sensitive skin – leaves no residue Size: 8 oz Skin Type: Dry, Dehydrated, Sun-Damaged, Mature + De-Vitalized Skin

This light and silky moisturizing cleanser washes away the cares of the day, while gently dissolving dirt, debris, and excess oil without drying the skin. The soothing, calming action of Mandarin Oil aids in retaining essential moisture and nutrients.

How to Use:

Use AM/PM for cleansing and removing makeup.

Apply with a damp washcloth or fingertips, massaging onto (the)face and neck in a circular motion.

Benefits:

Gently dissolves dirt, makeup, and excess oil

Helps retain needed moisture and nutrients

Leaves the skin clean, glowing, and vibrant

Why we love it: Soft, gentle, and non-drying, moisturizes as it cleanses

Visit us: 

[thebestskincareroutine]

Beauty routine for perfect skin

Do you know Beauty routine for perfect skin?

presently when you need to apply the serum? Do you clean your face consistently regardless of whether you haven't placed on cosmetics? Do you have at least some idea what the ideal measure of constantly cream is and the way in which you ought to apply it? Having a beauty routine is vital for flaunt wonderful skin each day that opposes the impacts of time. In any case, what is the best routine? Monica Scowl, in a joint effort with L'Oréal Paris, has made one that will be exceptionally basic for yourself and with which you will see two impacts: a moment decent face and long haul viability to battle maturing.

Stage 1. CLEAN Inside and out

Record this: a decent cleaning is crucial for keep skin new and youthful. To such an extent that Korean skin care specialists purify their appearances two times in the first part of the day and two times around evening time. In the event that this is depleting for you, a decent tidying when you awaken and before bed is sufficient. In the event that you have a long outing and you don't have any idea what to take with you, you can go through make remover wipes, since you can put them on the plane easily. Albeit the ideal is facial purging with milk to eliminate make-up or micellar water, and afterward apply a toner to leave the skin liberated from pollutants. Also, as in every one of the means of your beauty routine, always remember the neck.

Stage 2. Remember THE EYE Form

A stage is not difficult to neglect however you shouldn't skip it. Apply the eye form cream on the eyelids and on the sanctuaries with roundabout developments and applying light strain. It is fundamental for those region where the skin is more fragile and more defenseless to early indications of maturing.

Stage 3. APPLY THE SERUM

The serum, which has a higher centralization of dynamic fixings and exists in various surfaces (liquid, emulsion or gel), is the subsequent stage in our routine. Apply morning and night to the face and neck utilizing round, smoothing developments from within to the beyond the face. A few drops are sufficient.

Pass on to represent a couple of seconds prior to applying the cream. The serum can never supplant the cream: its belongings are reciprocal. The serum will figure out how to take out your kinks, smooth your face, give consistency to the tone and, at last, show it youthful and brilliant. One recommendation: stay away from the eye region.

Stage 4. DAY Lotion

Apply the day cream to the face and neck for hydrated and supported skin. Pick the cream that contains the right components for each need (against wrinkle, steadiness, sustenance… )Apply it with delicate roundabout developments and playing out a light back rub all over and neck. In the first part of the day, it will likewise set up your skin for cosmetics. An incredible decision is REVITALIFT LASER X3 Twofold Consideration, the new enemy of maturing cream from L'Oréal Paris. It is an apparent skin reviving treatment made from the most elevated grouping of dynamic fixings in L'Oréal Paris' most remarkable equation, 2% Nutrient CG and 6% Favorable to xylaneTM, two strong dynamic fixings isolated up to the snapshot of its application and that, together, battle the impacts of time as well as objective a prompt impact of good face.

Stage 5. NIGHT Cream

Around evening time you should rehash the very same routine that we have depicted, subbing the day cream for the night cream. Your skin will be more responsive, and it is the point at which it carries out roles like skin cell recovery. Thus, as of now you want fixing substances and hydration. A particular consideration night cream for the face and neck to awaken to more youthful looking skin.