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Tail-Wagging Goodness: Exploring the Best Healthy Dog Treats by Barking Blends
Introduction
As dog owners, we strive to provide our furry companions with the best care possible, and that includes their diet. Healthy dog treats are an integral part of a dog's overall well-being, offering not just a tasty reward but also essential nutrients to support their health. In this article, we'll delve into the world of healthy dog treats, with a spotlight on the top offerings by Barking Blends, a trusted name in the industry.
Understanding Healthy Dog Treats
What exactly makes a dog treat healthy? It goes beyond just taste; it's about the quality of ingredients. Healthy treats for dogs are typically made from natural, wholesome ingredients, free from artificial additives, fillers, and preservatives. Look for treats that are rich in protein, vitamins, and minerals, with limited or no added sugars or sodium.
Benefits of Healthy Dog Treats
The benefits of healthy dog treats extend far beyond just satisfying your pup's cravings. They play a crucial role in promoting better overall health, supporting dental hygiene by reducing plaque and tartar buildup, and aiding in training and behavior reinforcement. By choosing the right treats, you can contribute to your dog's longevity and happiness.
Comparing Barking Blends Treats to Others
When it comes to healthy dog treats, Barking Blends stands out for its commitment to quality and nutrition. While other brands may offer similar products, Barking Blends sets itself apart with carefully sourced ingredients, rigorous quality control, and a dedication to customer satisfaction. Despite their premium quality, Barking Blends treats are competitively priced, making them accessible to all dog owners.
Tips for Choosing the Right Treats
With so many options available, choosing the right treats for your dog can be overwhelming. Consider factors such as your dog's age, size, and dietary restrictions. Consult with your veterinarian to ensure that the treats you select align with your dog's nutritional needs. Additionally, pay attention to the texture and flavor preferences of your furry friend to ensure maximum enjoyment.
Incorporating Treats Into Your Dog's Diet
While treats are a wonderful way to reward your dog, moderation is key. Avoid overfeeding by practicing portion control and limiting treats to no more than 10% of your dog's daily calorie intake. Distribute treats strategically throughout the day, using them as rewards for good behavior or during training sessions. By integrating treats into your dog's diet thoughtfully, you can maintain a healthy balance while strengthening your bond.
Testimonials and Success Stories
Countless dog owners have experienced the transformative power of Barking Blends treats firsthand. From noticeable improvements in coat shine and overall vitality to behavior enhancements and eager obedience during training, the positive effects are undeniable. Real-life testimonials from satisfied customers attest to the efficacy and quality of Barking Blends products, solidifying their reputation as a leader in healthy dog treats.
Conclusion
When it comes to your dog's well-being, every choice matters. By opting for healthy treats from Barking Blends, you're not just rewarding your pup; you're investing in their health and happiness for years to come. With a range of delicious and nutritious options to choose from, there's no better way to indulge your furry friend while supporting their overall vitality.
FAQs
Are Barking Blends treats suitable for all dog breeds and sizes?
Yes, Barking Blends treats are designed to cater to dogs of all breeds and sizes, providing them with essential nutrition and delicious flavors.
Can I use Barking Blends treats for training purposes?
Absolutely! Barking Blends treats are perfect for training sessions, thanks to their irresistible taste and convenient bite-sized portions.
Are Barking Blends treats safe for puppies and senior dogs?
Yes, Barking Blends treats are formulated with the health and well-being of dogs of all ages in mind, making them suitable for puppies and senior dogs alike.
Do Barking Blends treats contain any artificial additives or preservatives?
No, Barking Blends treats are made with natural ingredients and are free from artificial additives, fillers, and preservatives.
Where can I purchase Barking Blends treats?
Barking Blends treats are available for purchase online and at select retailers. Visit our website to find a store near you or to place an order conveniently online.
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fresh pet food deliveryHealthy Pet Food Delivered Right to Your Door
Get fresh, nutritious pet food delivered to your doorstep with Perfect Bowl. Perfect Bowl is your go-to destination for fresh, wholesome pet food delivery in Sydney, Australia. Our meals are crafted with care, using only the finest ingredients, and are tailored to meet your pet's unique needs. Order now and give your pet the best possible nutrition!
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DogSpot Meals Fresh Dog Food Recipe Chicken, Rice, Vegetables Turmeric Formula, Wet Food for Medium Dogs Best Dealz For You
No added preservatives or chemicals. No refrigeration required. Slow steam cooking process, that helps sterilization of food
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The best fresh dog food is an excellent choice for pet owners looking to provide their furry family members with the best nutrition possible. Fresh dog food is made with all-natural ingredients, free from fillers and artificial additives. It's rich in essential vitamins and minerals and packed with high-quality proteins, healthy fats, and complex carbohydrates. This ensures your pup gets the nutrition they need for a healthy diet.
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A Christmas Special
summary: after Christmas Eve at Remus' flat, thick snowfall prevents you from going home. He's more than happy to host you
cw: mentions of alcohol, smut mdni, p in v, oral (fem receiving), praise, inexperienced reader, shy little idiots in love
Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 11k words
Remus isn’t sure entirely how he’d gotten strongarmed into hosting Christmas Eve at his flat. James and Lily usually host, but James claimed that this year their house was in too much a state of “baby mayhem” to have any hope of being tidied enough for a gathering. He’s said it in such a lovesick voice Remus couldn’t push back for long, his friend’s happiness so potent it was like looking into the sun. Sirius had begged off quickly, saying that his “bachelor pad” was too small to have a group over. As usual, when Remus spoke last, the matter was settled before he’d gotten the chance to have much of a say.
He’s made an effort to live up to the hosting legacy passed onto him by the Potters, but it’s a flimsy attempt at best. Thankfully, the snowfall outside is doing a fair amount of the work for him. Remus’ street is coated in fresh, gleaming powder, enough that the trees look weighted down with it and his neighbor had put her little dog in a knit sweater to go into the yard and do its business. It’s still coming down, the snowflakes visible in crisp contrast against the darkening sky as they drift lazily to the earth.
Inside Remus’ home, the Christmas tree is nearly covered in tinsel to make up for his scant supply of ornaments, he’s run out of stockings to put up above the fireplace and has had to use one large sock (that one will have to be for Sirius), and he’s still stringing up popcorn when a knock sounds on the door.
Remus is surprised (he’d told everyone to come at six, but that was only because he didn’t think anyone would actually show up until a couple hours after), but that dies away when he unbolts the door and opens it to find you on the other side.
“Hi,” you say, teeth nearly chattering as Remus ushers you inside. “Sorry I’m late, traffic was worse than I expected.”
“It’s hardly fifteen after six.” Remus takes your coat, tsking. “People do seem to become worse drivers around the holidays, don’t they?”
“Well, I suppose not everyone on the road tonight might be used to driving in the snow,” you allow, ever forgiving.
Remus smiles. “Merry Christmas, love.”
Your face is already flushed from the chill outside, but he could swear it goes pinker as you unwrap your scarf, smiling back at him. “Merry Christmas.” You’re merry as can be, cheeks dimpling and eyes sparkling under the twinkling lights Remus is suddenly very glad he decided to purchase for the occasion. “Where is everyone?”
“Well,” Remus says, heading back for the couch, “Sirius is hitching a ride with James and Lily, so if I had to guess I’d wager that James is just putting the finishing touches whatever food he’s decided to bring while Lily tries to rush him out the door. And then they’ll go to Sirius’ place and have to wait for him to finish wrapping the presents he undoubtedly just remembered today.”
You sit beside him with a half-exasperated laugh. “I was thinking I’d be the last one here,” you admit, “but I’d forgotten how they can be when it comes to events.”
Remus shrugs. “Easy to forget.” Lily is usually able to marshal James and Sirius most places on time these days, but the frenzy when they actually have things to prepare is inevitable; Remus has learnt to account for it. He reclaims his half-finished string of popcorn, clumsily stabbing the needle into another kernel and wincing when it goes through easier than expected, pricking his finger.
“Oh no, did you hurt yourself?” you lean over, trying to see his hand.
“No, just a scratch.” Remus has about a billion of them by now. He’s far from coordinated on a good day, but the unwise decision to have coffee earlier has resulted in shaky hands that make working with a needle somewhat hazardous.
You watch him try again, and it’s really the distraction of your cute frown more than anything else that messes him up. His needle goes through the fluffy edge of the popcorn, stabbing him and giving the string hardly anything to hold onto in the process. The flake falls to his lap for his efforts.
“Remus, your hand’s not a pincushion,” you say, and you weren’t yourself he’d almost think you were chiding him. You reach over, taking the needle and thread from him. “Here, let me do that.”
“I didn’t mean for you to come here early so I could put you to work,” Remus protests, watching as you string up the next piece of popcorn with nimble fingers. Jealousy wars with admiration, but his esteem for you wins out. “You’ll never come back for New Year’s if this is what you have to look forward to.”
You smile down at your hands. “Sure I will. You’ll still be there, won’t you? And I really don’t mind helping, it gives me something to do.”
Remus smiles back even though you’re not looking. “Alright, well I guess that means I can start rolling out the gingerbread dough. Thanks, love.” He touches his hand lightly to the crown of your head as he stands, letting the urge to press a kiss there pass as quickly as it arises. He goes into the kitchen and a second later you decide to follow. Popcorn swishes against the floor behind you as you make your way over to the bar counter, sitting on a stool with the string trailing all the way back to the couch.
“You’re making gingerbread cookies?” you ask, watching with eager eyes as he plops the dough onto the floured counter, rolling it flat.
“Mhm. You like them?”
“Never had one.”
Remus feels his eyebrows inch upwards. “Seriously?”
You look almost sheepish, as though this is a crime which you expect to be held against you. Honestly, you’re not far off; had James been here, you would have been questioned and scolded to hell and back, and then he would’ve made Remus give you some dough to try, salmonella be damned.
“No,” you answer him. “We made ornaments of them in school, once, but we weren’t allowed to eat them. I always thought they were so cute, though, with the little people cutouts.”
“They’re the best,” Remus agrees, pressing out the shapes and laying them on the baking sheet. “If you finish that quickly enough, I might even let you help me cut out a few.”
“Yes!” you cheer, and he laughs as you start working quicker with the needle.
“Don’t hurt yourself. The privilege of cookie cutting is not actually contingent on your labor.”
“I know,” you say, but your hands don’t slow. Remus has barely finished filling his second baking sheet before you’re done, having made more progress in the last twenty minutes than he had over nearly an hour.
Remus’ hip touches yours as he shows you how to give the cookie cutters a little shake in the dough, freeing the shape before lifting it and placing it on the sheet. It’s not a painfully difficult task, and still he’s impressed by how quickly you catch on. You’re a machine of efficiency. You seem to enjoy rolling out the dough almost as much as pressing out the shapes, falling into a quick, happy rhythm. Before long you’ve pushed Remus out of the way (Lily would be proud, he thinks), urging him to go and hang up the popcorn garland before everyone else arrives.
You haven’t seen each other in over a month, both of you caught up in the hustle and bustle of the season, and you catch up as you work on your separate tasks. Remus talks to you about his job, the students who plague him and the ones he wishes he could take home after work each day, and how none of them had liked the film he’d put on the day before break. (“Mister Magoo’s is a classic!” you protest as Remus shakes his head. “They’re too young to get it,” he says. “Our classics are just old to them.”) You tell him about your new cat, and the sweater you’d crocheted her for the holiday which she despises above all else, and he promises to come over sometime soon to meet her.
You’ve poured yourselves spiked eggnog and sampled a few ginger cookies (“They’re twice as good when they’re fresh,” Remus says. “Don’t let the others’ tardiness rob you of the experience.”) by the time the door bursts open again, Sirius of course not bothering to knock.
“Hello!” he calls from somewhere behind a tower of presents. “Merry holiday to you, Moony!”
You get up to help, and so Remus is compelled to do so as well, taking a couple sloppily-wrapped boxes from Sirius’ arms.
“Merlin, it smells good in here,” James declares as he comes through the door, Lily carrying a beaming baby Harry on her hip behind him. James’ eyes fall on you. “Aw, you beat us here?”
Remus scoffs, setting down the gifts by the tree and leaving you to arrange them as you see fit. “Not a very difficult task, when you’re over an hour late,” he says. “You’re lucky Y/N’s good company, or I’d be more cross with you.”
“Sorry,” Lily says as Sirius makes a dismissive sound, flopping onto the couch. “We had some trouble fitting everything in the car with Harry’s seat, and then Sirius—” she shoots him a glare, and he grins like she’s sweetly cooed his name “—wouldn’t leave without his hat, even though he’d lost it.”
“One only gets to wear one’s elf hat every so often,” Sirius justifies, unperturbed. “I wasn’t going to miss the occasion even if it took me all night to find it.”
“It nearly did,” Lily shoots back, but then James is at her side, having discarded his load of food and presents and now vying to hold Harry.
“Come here, my handsome little guy.”
“Used to call me that,” Sirius quips with his mouth full of gingerbread cookies, a heaping plate seeming to have found its way into his lap.
Remus isn’t going to smile at that poor attempt at a joke, but once you laugh he can’t help it.
“Only on special occasions,” James replies, taking Harry under the arms and hoisting him into the air. Harry laughs, and it’s probably the most contagious thing Remus has ever heard. Everyone smiles; James most of all, grinning ear to ear as he does it again.
“He never lets me hold him,” Lily complains fondly.
“Because I know how much you like seeing me with him,” James says breezily, making a face at Harry above him. “You’re mad with lust right now, Evans, don’t try to deny it.”
“Sleaze,” Sirius says to him, the bell on his hat jingling when he tilts his head.
“I know you are, but what am I?”
“I,” Remus says, “am hungry. And I’ll bet Y/N is too, since she’s very politely refrained from snacking much while we waited for you lot.”
James' attention actually leaves his son for half a second to look at you and see if what Remus says is true, and you go instantly bashful. It doesn’t seem to matter how long you’re friends with them; having attention drawn to you will always bring some color to your cheeks. Lily comes to your rescue, ushering you into the kitchen like she needs somewhere to channel her mother hen urges while James is monopolizing Harry.
“I hope you really are hungry,” she says, “because James has made enough bhaji to feed us all for a month.”
❆ ❆ ❆
Soon even James is stuffed and you’re all a bit tipsy on eggnog. Some of your natural anxiety fades as everything starts to feel slower and more fluid, your insides warm and soft as wax.
“No, because it was so obvious,” Sirius says. He’s telling a story of a girl he’d seen at a coffee shop that he’s sure was enamored with him. James, naturally, agrees completely, but Lily and Remus aren’t so sure. “She did the—the thing. Y/N, back me up. When a girl makes eye contact with you and then looks off to the side, it means she’s not interested, but when she looks down, it’s because she’s nervous, right?”
You raise your eyebrows. “I think you made that up,” you tell him, tiny bits of laughter running in between your words. “Anyway, is her being nervous necessarily a good thing?”
“She was nervous because she’s obsessed with me,” Sirius insists.
“Or,” Remus says, “she was nervous because you were staring at her, and she thought you were going to follow her outside.”
“And probably kill her,” Lily agrees.
James’ eyebrows shoot up. “Merlin, you two are dark. Our Padfoot’s not putting out murderous vibes. He’s got too much boyish charm.”
Sirius nods appreciatively, but Lily only shrugs, careful not to jostle Harry where he’s sleeping on her lap. “Girls have to think of those things.”
“Gross,” James says, looking slightly troubled as he kisses the side of his wife’s head. “Well, I think she was in love with you, Pads.”
“Yeah,” Remus rolls his eyes, “he should show up at her house and find out. It’d be romantic.”
“And on that note,” James goes on, ignoring him, “shall we do presents?”
You all agree, and Sirius looks at James with an older brother’s entitlement. “Go ahead and distribute them, Prongsie.”
James, well used to this, doesn’t even question it, scampering back and forth between the tree (which you can’t help but notice is somewhat lacking in the ornament department but quite sparkly) to deliver your presents at your feet. After a few rounds of this, you can’t stand it anymore and get up to help, laughing through the protests of your remaining three friends. (“He’s got it, love,” Remus says, and Sirius adds, “He’s got energy he needs to run off anyway.”) Between the two of you, the bottom of the Christmas tree is bare within a couple of minutes, small piles of presents next to each of your friends. You go to sit back by the pile meant for you, touched at the fact that you have a box from every person there.
“S’not fair that James and Lily get to do couple’s presents now,” Sirius complains. “I’m going to start buying gifts for you like you’re one person, see how you like it.”
The biggest pile is obviously for Harry, and you all start there, no small amount of eagerness in James’ expression as he tears open the first box. “The Velveteen Rabbit,” he reads aloud. “Wow, this is kinda hefty for a children’s book.”
“Who’s it from?” Lily prompts, as if you don’t all already know.
“Shit, I forgot to check.”
“And that’s why we read the box,” Lily says slowly, and you get the sense this is a conversation that’s happened more than once, “before we start ripping, honey.”
“It was me,” Remus volunteers, lips pulling into a half-smile.
“Course it was,” James says, taking a break from sticking his tongue out at his wife to smile at Remus. “Thanks, Moony.”
“You had the opportunity to get him Goodnight Moon,” Sirius tsks, “and you just let it pass you by.”
Remus rolls his eyes, but then Lily says, “He already has that one,” and you watch as he tries and fails to suppress the shy smile that takes him. It shifts the scars on his cheek and lights his eyes with a warm tenderness.
He looks especially pretty under the Christmas lights, you think. The warm glow suits him, bringing out the amber in his eyes and richening the various brown shades of his hair. It makes his skin look softer too, smooth even where you know he has stubble around his jawline. You want suddenly to reach out and touch it, and you’re glad you’re sitting too far from him to act on the urge.
You’ve noticed Remus over the years, of course. It’d be impossible not to. You’ve always harbored a tiny crush on him, but you keep it shoved deep down in your gut where it can’t hurt anyone. You think the world of him, but you love your little group of friends more than anything else. You’re not unaware of the fact that Remus is a more crucial fixture in it than you are; if anything happened between you and it made things awkward for everyone, you’d be the one to go.
“Aw, is this a hat?” Lily pulls something tawny brown from a box, and you realize they’ve gotten to your gift. “Oh my god, it has little antlers!”
You try not to smile too hard as she shows it to James and he coos, taking it from her hands. “No way, he’ll be like our little Prongsie! I’m going to put it on him.”
“Don’t wake him,” Lily warns, but James waves her off.
“He can sleep through anything,” he says, settling the baby beanie on Harry’s head. Sure enough, he doesn’t stir.
“Oh, that’s so darling.” Lily presses a hand to her chest. “Y/N, where’d you get this?”
You feel your face heat and hope the lighting is covering your blush. “I made it,” you admit. “I know we’re already well into winter, but I hope he can still use it a little.”
“Um, he’s never taking it off. Like, ever.” James leans around Lily to press a smacking kiss to your cheek. You laugh, trying not to shrink in on yourself from all the attention. “Thanks, love.”
Once all the cooing over Harry’s presents is done, the rest of the gift opening proceeds with decidedly less fanfare, though no shortage of gratitude. You get a bunch of purple eyeliners from Sirius (you’d complained to him a few weeks ago that they’d stopped selling your old one, and he’d been thoughtful enough to find you options to help decide upon new one), a cookbook from James and Lily (“Now you can stop eating all those frozen meals,” James tells you with a meaningful look), and a set of mittens from Remus (“They’re alpaca,” he explains. “Supposed to be extra warm, and your hands are always freezing.”). The rest of your gifts are received happily too, and then Remus’ living room is covered with the wrapping paper Lily had tried but eventually given up on getting everyone to put in piles as they went and you’re all starting to yawn.
“Alright,” Lily says after a while, “it’s well past Harry’s bedtime, and ours, and I’m sure Remus would like his flat back.”
“Booo.” Sirius lays back on the couch, letting his head loll over the edge of the armrest. “Domestic life has made you lame, Evans-Potter.”
“Yeah, yeah,” James drawls, gathering Harry against his chest, “I saw you yawning, Pads. Let’s go.”
You stand with the rest of them, going to find your shoes by the door. “Thanks for everything, Remus,” you say. “It was great.”
“For a first time hosting,” James allows, jokingly prideful, “I suppose you did a pretty decent job. Big shoes to fill, and all that.”
Remus smiles as he rolls his eyes, but it falters when his gaze settles on something behind you. “Are you all going to be alright getting home? It looks like it’s really picked up.”
You follow his stare out the window. He’s not wrong. The unusually thick snowfall you’d arrived in has morphed into something that looks more like a blizzard, the wind whipping white across the black backdrop of sky outside Remus’ flat.
James looks between the scene outside and his family once before seeming to make a decision. “Yeah, we’ll be alright,” he says, watching Lily as he talks. She nods her approval, and James’ voice becomes more solid. “We don’t have far to drive.”
Remus nods, still looking worried. His brows furrow as he turns to you. “What about you? Are you gonna be okay?”
“Yeah.” It’s the only answer in these situations, though you’re sure Remus would be alright with the alternative if you felt very strongly. “It doesn’t look too bad out there.”
Remus casts another dubious glance out the window, and a particularly loud gust of wind whooshes past as if to spite you. “Are you sure? It looks pretty bad to me.”
“Yeah,” James says, “don’t you live a bit far?”
“It’s not that far,” you fib, at the same time as Remus says, “She does.”
You laugh awkwardly, pulling on your coat “It’s not. Anyway, I’ve driven in a lot worse than this.”
Lily gives you a small smile. “That’s hardly reassuring, babe.”
“You can stay here,” Remus offers, but you’re shaking your head before he’s even gotten the words out.
“That’s sweet of you, but I can make it home.” You give him your most competent smile. “If I end up driving off the road and have to camp in my car, at least I’ll have fantastic mittens to keep the frostbite from my hands.”
He gives you a deadpan look. “While I’m glad you’re excited to use my gift, I’d prefer to keep it from coming to that.”
“You can’t get in a crash and die on Christmas,” Sirius says. “It’d be, like, a super huge downer for us every year.”
“I’ll be fine,” you insist.
“Shortcake, I don’t care if we have to lock you in here,” James says, frowning in a way that doesn’t look particularly tough when he’s swaying back and forth to rock Harry on his chest. “There’s no way you can drive all the way to your place in this.”
You roll your eyes good-naturedly, wrapping your scarf.
“Okay, you know I would never usually say this,” Lily says, gnawing on her lip as she watches the snow blow past outside, “but I think you should listen to the boys. It looks too scary out there to drive that far.”
“It’s…” You look between them, your argument dying of futility on your tongue. James seems prepared to blockade you in Remus’ flat, and even Lily’s giving you a stern look. Your gaze lands on Remus, and the last of your resistance melts away.
“You really should stay here,” he says kindly. “Actually, I’d feel a lot better if you did. Okay?”
You sigh, slipping your scarf back over your head. “Okay.”
“Phew!” Sirius says, pulling you into a one-armed hug. “Glad that’s settled. See you all soon, thanks for Christmas Moony!”
“He’s so tired,” Lily says after Sirius is out the door.
“Wiped,” James agrees, adjusting his grip on Harry so that he can wrap one arm around Remus’ neck. Remus leans down into the awkward hug, begrudgingly fond as he pats his friend on the back, then kisses Lily on the cheek when James moves to you.
“Thanks for the gifts,” James says, grinning down at Harry’s knit antlers after he releases you. “He’s never taking this off.”
“He means it.” Lily sends her husband a look as fond as it is weary as she hugs you. “I’ll probably have to bathe Harry when James is asleep so he doesn’t catch him without it.”
Your face is feeling hot again. “I’m glad you like it,” you say with a little shrug, but your friends are used to your shyness and only smile and wave on their way out.
And then the door shuts, and you and Remus are left alone in the quiet.
“Are you tired?” he asks you, moving back into the living room. Lily had sneakily taken care of a good deal of the cleanup, but there’s still a few half-empty glasses of eggnog strewn about which Remus begins gathering.
“Not really,” you answer honestly, beating him to the sink and forcing him to hand you the glasses to wash. “Are you?”
“No,” he agrees, and the look he shoots you has to be the gentlest form malice has ever taken as he takes up the dish towel and stations himself beside you. “Fancy a film?”
“Mmm, a Christmas film?”
“Obviously.”
The dishes are finished quickly thanks to Lily’s interference, and Remus makes you some hot cocoa while you scroll through movies, calling out possibilities. The only conflict between you is your equal complaisance to whatever the other prefers, and you eventually settle on the first one you’d seen just to put an end to it. You take your cocoa gladly when Remus passes it to you, blowing gently while he settles a blanket over the both of you, your knees curled towards him and his one leg crossed over the other angling him towards you.
The first few minutes of the film are spent in that contented quietude that the two of you so often fall into when you’re alone together, but then Remus asks you, “What is it?”
You look over at him. “Hm?”
“You’re frowning.”
“Oh.” You laugh. “I’m just thinking about snow.”
His lips quirk. “It is kind of the bane of your existence tonight, isn’t it?”
“No.” You smile down at your hands, hoping it's not obvious how not unpleasant you find your circumstances at the moment. “That’s not it. I was thinking, I kind of hate how it always has to snow in these movies. It makes any Christmas where it doesn’t snow feel like it’s not up to par. Or not quintessential enough, or something.”
“Mmm, I see.” Remus looks back to the screen, considering. “Does that make this your quintessential Christmas, then? Are we living up to the movie standard?”
You watch him while he watches the TV, blue light cast over his handsome features. “I guess so,” you say.
The longer you sit there, the closer you get. You blame it on the late hour, your bodies relaxing towards each other on the couch. Remus’ arm brushes yours when he lifts his mug for a sip, and your knees dig into his thigh under the blanket. Soon you’ve drooped enough that you’re leaning nearly entirely against him. You don’t notice until Remus puts an arm around you to encourage your head to his shoulder. You tense but don’t sit up, and eventually his head comes to rest atop yours.
“Are you crying?” he murmurs during one scene near the end.
Your reply is equally soft, not wanting to jostle either Remus’ head or his shoulder with your speech movements. “I really like this part.”
“You know how it ends. It’s going to be okay.”
“I know.” You sniffle, bringing a hand up to wipe your face now that you’ve been caught. “I know it is. It’s just really profound.”
“Sure it is.”
���It’s the spirit of Christmas, Remus. Goodwill to man.”
“Okay.” He rubs your shoulder, and you pretend not to feel his shaking with quiet laughter. “Okay, I agree with you.”
And awhile later: “You’re tired,” he accuses.
You hum a denial.
“Sweetheart” —your stomach flutters, and there’s a jolt somewhere behind your ribcage; you ignore it— “you’re practically falling asleep right here.”
“Are you tired?”
He shifts slightly, stubble tickling your forehead. “No. But you are.”
“I want to finish the movie.”
He seems to debate this for a moment, then his shoulder relaxes beneath you. “Alright.”
The credits start, and neither of you move.
You let your head slump more heavily onto his shoulder. “Your place really does look lovely. Thanks for having me.”
“Of course, love.” You can feel his smile squish up against the top of your head. “Would you go so far as to say my hosting measures up to James’?”
You chuckle, gesturing to yourself. “I’d say you’ve gone above and beyond, for sure.”
Remus laughs too. “Perfect. Tell him so, would you?”
You’re going to agree when a great yawn takes you. You keep it quiet, but there’s no avoiding the way your chin digs into Remus’ shoulder, your shoulders rising with the prolonged inhale. He moves away from you.
“Ready for bed?” He smiles down at you as you run a knuckle under your eyes, collecting tears from your lashes.
You shrug an admittance. “Sort of. But I don’t want to kick you out of your own living room if you’re not tired yet.”
“No, I’m pretty wiped too,” he says. “Anyway, I’m the one kicking you out. You’re staying in my room.”
You had a feeling he would say something like that. You grab a throw pillow, getting situated with your head near the armrest. “No, I’m not.”
His laugh is disbelieving. “Yeah, you are. Come on, you’re my guest. I’m not letting you sleep on the couch.”
You tug the blanket off his lap, curling up with your pillow stubbornly. “I’m not going to steal your bed. You’ve already done so much. You’ve helped me try gingerbread cookies and given me nice mittens and hosted an amazing Christmas. Let me sleep on your couch, please.”
“While I appreciate all that,” he says, “no.”
“Remus.” You’re near pleading at this point. “Your back will hurt.”
“Your back will hurt.”
“Not as badly as yours.” You give him a hard look. “I’m not taking your bed.”
There’s a brief silence, terser than your usual ones but no more awkward for it. You stare each other down.
“Right,” Remus says, reclaiming the remote from where he’d set it on the coffee table. “I suppose we’d better start another movie, then.”
“Remus, come on.” You sit up, giving his shoulder a gentle nudge. “You’ve just said you’re tired. Go to bed, please.”
The TV flickers back on. “I’m not leaving this couch.”
“Well, neither am I,” you laugh, completely serious.
He rolls his eyes, then snuggles up to you under the blanket. You take this as a sign that he’s not really very cross with you. “You’re much more argumentative than usual tonight, you know that?”
You huff, laying your head back on his shoulder. “I could say the same about you.”
“True, but I know I’ll win out in the end.”
“You can think that if you like.”
“Want to watch this one next?”
“Sure.”
❆ ❆ ❆
Remus watches as your eyes drift closed, then twitch back open, over and over again. He thinks his bony shoulder is the only thing keeping you from falling over the precipice of sleep. If he were James Potter, he’d simply pick you up with ease and carry you to his bed, but Remus can’t say he’s entirely sorry for this extra time with you, even if neither of you are awake enough to make much conversation.
Silly as it sounds, he enjoys just sitting here with you nearly as much as talking. Your cheek squished into his shoulder, your legs curled up atop his, you’re warm and weighty against him.
He should have known it would be a hopeless endeavor trying to get you to agree to take the bed. You’re a gentle thing by nature, but stubborn in your selflessness. Even if you had gone, Remus knows he wouldn’t have slept all night anyway, too preoccupied with thoughts of you all wrapped up in his sheets, your face pressed to his pillow, getting your shampoo-smell on the pillowcase. He doesn’t know if it smells like him (does he have a smell?), but he would have wondered all night if it does, if you were noticing.
Your head nearly rolls off his shoulder, and a pitying sound escapes Remus when you jerk awake to set it right. He lets his head rest on yours so it doesn’t happen again. Your eyelids droop closed almost immediately, and Remus begins dragging his thumb over your shoulder blade, a nice, slow back-and-forth. You’re quiet for a long while.
“Are you trying to put me to sleep?” you murmur, words all sloshed together.
It’s a conscious effort not to let his thumb slow. “No,” he says.
You hum.
“Unless you mean it’s working.”
Another long silence. “It’s not,” you reply, head growing heavier on his shoulder.
He chuckles. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you to bed, hm?”
“You go to bed,” you mumble, and if he thought you were capable of it he’d say there was some bitterness lining your words.
He sighs. “You’re too nice for your own good,” he tells you.
“No,” you reply, softly, plainly, like it’s a fact, “that’s you.”
He picks his head up off of yours to see your face. “Yeah?”
“Mhm.” Your eyes are closed. You don’t know he’s looking. Your face is wholly relaxed, no hint of pretense about you. “You’re the best I know.”
Something warm and wheedling works its way through Remus’ ribs to the soft gooey core of him. “Well,” he tells you honestly, “you’re the best I know.”
You seem unconcerned. “Another impasse for us.”
He actually laughs at that, instantly guilty when it jostles you on his shoulder and your eyelids peel apart. He can’t regret it, though, when you look at him the way you do. You’re glowing in the light coming off the tree, soft and warm and lovely, and yet you’re looking at him like he’s the only place your eyes want to go. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
You come gradually more awake, eyebrows twitching towards each other just slightly. “Remus,” you murmur, and he finally does what he’s been wanting to since you’d shown up at his door hours ago. He kisses you.
Your lips are pliable, parting for his almost instantly, like you’d been waiting. His hand coasts from your shoulder to cup the back of your head, keeping you close as your nose slides against his. You both all but fall back onto the bed you’d made yourself on the couch. He’s careful not to put too much of his weight on you, but when his tongue brushes across the inside of your lip and you inhale, he draws back.
“I...” He pants into the space between you. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t—”
You make a sound that’s half hum, half whine, and bump your chin up into his.
Remus loses himself again with frightening quickness. It’s even better now that you seem more sure, your mouth asking, coaxing against his. You taste like gingerbread. An low, embarrassing sound pries free from the back of his throat when you wind your fingers into the hair at his nape, and he slips his free hand beneath your back, getting as close to you as he can. Your legs make room for him automatically, knees tipping open so he can slot between them.
“Do you—” you breathe when his attentions move downward, tilting your head to the side to offer access as he mouths at the skin just under your jaw. “Do you want this?”
The word leaves him in a soft exhale, muffled against your skin. “Yes.”
You swallow. He feels the movement in your throat. “Are you sure?”
His eyelashes brush your jaw as his kisses slow, become more tender, more intentional. “Lovely girl,” he murmurs. “You’re silly, you know that?” His mouth meanders it’s way over to your pulse, getting stuck there and sucking at your skin lazily. “I mean, you’re smart.” The words are all mushed up against you. Noticeably amused. Remus quit the eggnog hours ago, yet he feels half drunk. “You’re really smart, honey, but you can be so oblivious sometimes.”
You don’t respond, and as much as he loves the sound of your voice, he’s hoping your silence is in his favor right now. He wants you wrapped up in him, wants to engross you so completely you forget how to form your lips around speech.
“Do you want to move to my room?”
You take a breath. Fuck, even the sound of you breathing is nearly enough to undo him. He moves back to your mouth as if to intercept it, nipping at your lower lip.
“Is this a ploy to get me off the couch?”
“You’re relentless.”
Your lips curve against his, and he mirrors them without thinking. You stay quiet.
“Fine. I promise it’s not, okay?”
Your laugh is fizzy like champagne, and it warms Remus’ chest like it too. “Okay,” you say in that lovely voice. “Okay, let’s go.”
❆ ❆ ❆
You’d always thought Remus was all softness. He’s made up of soft looks, soft colors, and hair that you can now confirm is soft as dandelion fluff. But this night has defied your expectations in a thousand ways. And your Remus, soft, gentle, kindhearted Remus, is scraping at your throat with his teeth.
You have to suck your lip between your teeth to keep from making a humiliatingly desperate sound when he passes his tongue over his work, another crescent moon that’s sure to be purple by morning. Your hands are beseeching in his dandelion fluff hair, keeping him close while his hands are busy lower, one gripping the fat of your hip while the other drags tantalizingly slow up and down your side. He’s kissing you like you have all the time in the world, sometimes rough but no more urgent for it, and you’re breathy and molten and useless beneath him.
You’re brimming with adoration and something else too. Something that you think you could almost identify—you’ve felt it before, but never like this.
“What do you want to do?” There’s a raspy quality to his voice that would send you to your knees if he hadn’t already taken them out from under you. He dots leisurely, open-mouthed kisses up the column of your throat, soothing over spots he’s already nipped and sucked into oblivion. Your head feels fuzzy. “Sweetheart?”
Christ, is he trying to send you into cardiac arrest? Remus doesn’t stop kissing you even at your silence, finding your lip still held between your teeth and encouraging it free with his own. You try to remember what he’d ask you. What do you want to do? You have no idea. Where would you even start? You want him to keep talking to you in that raspy voice, that’s for sure. You want…you want to keep kissing him, to know what his hands would do if you let them beneath your clothes. You want to keep investigating that warm feeling in your gut. See where it takes you.
Remus’ kisses slow, then stop. He pulls back to look at you. In the dim street light coming in through the window, you wonder what he sees. “You alright?” His voice is soft, gentle, saying it’s okay if you’re not without saying it.
You take a breath. It shakes a little on the way out, but you don’t think he can tell. “Yeah, I’m good. Just nervous. But not in a bad way.” Nervous-happy.
“Don’t be,” he implores, lips brushing your cheek. “It’s only me.”
Exactly, you think. It’s you.
“What do you want to do?” You turn his own question back on him.
His smile is tinged with bashfulness. “I mean, whatever you’re alright with.” There’s a tentative quietness to his voice. “Have you…”
If it were possible for you to get any warmer, embarrassment would do it. “No,” you say, shrinking away from him though there’s nowhere to go. Whatever the end to that question might be, the answer is no.
“That’s okay,” he says quickly, dropping another kiss on the corner of your mouth like a cure-all remedy. “That’s okay, you just tell me if you want to stop, yeah? If you don’t like something, or you want to slow down—anything at all, you let me know.” He kisses you again, further up on your burning cheek. “Okay?”
You swallow. “Okay.”
“Don’t be nervous.” He says it like a promise, hand stroking your side again as if to soothe you. His lips find your shoulder, nosing the fabric of your sleeve. “Can I take this off, lovely?”
You nod, words all stoppered up in your throat, then realize he can’t see you and do it yourself. He has to pause as it comes off, taking the opportunity to do away with his own sweater, tossing it on the floor beside the bed. You do the same, and your bra quickly follows. You’d always thought (largely influenced, admittedly, by trashy novels) that this was the part where the guy stops what he’s doing and openly oggles the shirtless woman in front of him, but Remus has seen tits before and wastes no time in getting his mouth back on yours, pressing you into the mattress. His skin is as heated as yours, the areas where you touch deliciously warm despite the cold still whipping past his bedroom window. You allow yourself one sweeping, appreciative pass over the muscles on Remus’ back before your hands go down to your bottoms, shimmying them down your legs. A long-fingered hand finds the exposed skin of your thigh and kneads reverently. You swallow Remus’ groan, and he kisses you more deeply, long, savoring passes of his tongue along the inside of your mouth until his lips move downward.
One hand stays at your hip while the other strokes up and down your thigh, spit cooling in a path down your stomach. You try to relax as he passes your navel, but the anticipation is hard to shake. You’re nearly trembling when he kneels between your legs, kissing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.
“Is this okay?” he murmurs.
It’s all you can do to nod, gasping when his teeth drag over one of the stretch marks there. You clutch at the sheets above your head like a lifeline.
“We can stop anytime you want.”
You inhale raggedly. “No,” you manage. Your breathlessness is obvious in the quiet room. “I want—I want to keep going.” You pause. “Do you?”
You can hear the smile in his voice. “Yeah, love, that sounds good to me.”
Good, you’re about to say, but Remus’ next kiss lands on your slit, and your voice withers and dies in your throat. He uses a hand to push one of your legs open further while bringing the other over his shoulder, spreading you open. His breath fans hot over your cunt.
You’re writhing at the first broad stroke of his tongue, and he wraps his fingers around the outside of your thigh, keeping you still while placating you at the same time.
Remus takes his time, lapping experimentally at your entrance before making his way upwards. You gasp as his tongue skims over your clit, burrowing your hand in his hair before hesitating.
“Is this okay?” you ask.
His hummed assent has you tightening your grasp. He brushes over your clit one more time, and when this gets a similar reaction from you, begins sucking on it gently. You’re panting, and Remus has to move his grip to your hip to hold you in place, squeezing indulgently at the fat there while he narrows in on what you like. Before long you’re trembling all over, grasping feebly at his hair as you squeeze your eyes shut against the odd sort of bliss that’s taking you under.
“Remus,” you breathe, and it’s a miracle that he hears you but he does, raising his head with a lewd suctioning sound.
He looks at you questioningly with eyes almost all pupil.
“Come here,” you plead.
He obeys, crawling back up you to peck at your bitten lips. “Doing alright?” he asks you.
“Yeah,” you promise, cupping his head in one hand and wrapping your leg over the back of his as if to prevent him from leaving. “Just wanted to kiss you.”
You feel him smile against your lips. He slots his mouth over yours, and you dedicate yourself to his top lip. He tastes like sex, braver now as he explores your mouth. He drags your bottom lip between his teeth, and you make a high, breathy sound. His grip on you tightens.
“Do you think—can we—”
He hesitates, kissing softly at the corner of your lips. “Are you sure?”
“I want to. Do you?”
Remus actually laughs, muffling the sound against your cheek. “Yeah, I fucking want to. I’ve wanted to forever.”
You can’t think about that. Think about that and you’ll fall to pieces.
He noses affectionately at the underside of your jaw, slipping down you once again to stand at the end of the bed. He steps out of his pants and grabs a condom from the drawer of his nightstand. “You’ll tell me if I do anything you don’t like, yeah?”
“Mhm,” you promise, anticipation coiling up snugly with that other thing in your stomach. They don’t feel all that distinct from one another.
“Alright,” he says, palm slipping under your thigh. “Can I lift this up, love?”
You nod, and he grasps the soft underside of your knee, bringing your leg up to your stomach as he lines up. You gasp as he pushes in slowly, watching your face to make sure you’re doing okay. You’re already slick and worked open from his ministrations, and it’s still a bit shocking. His thumb strokes beside your knee as your walls adjust to the size of him. “How’s that feel?”
“Good,” you say honestly. There’s a note of desperation to your voice. “I can—more, please.”
He’s quick to accommodate you, pushing deeper as he folds himself over you to recapture your lips. Your breaths shallow. His free hand moves to your breast, kneading gently at the soft flesh. He gives it a firm squeeze at the same time as he moves inside you, and you nearly bite Remus’ lip off, a half-suppressed keening sound escaping you.
“So good,” he mumbles. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart. Taking it so well.” He lifts his head, kissing your temple. “Think you can handle a bit more?”
Your response is barely more than breath, but he catches the affirmation, pressing another firm kiss to your forehead before he bottoms out inside you. Your head lolls back, fuzzy with the strange pain and even stranger pleasure. Remus tightens his grip on your leg to keep it up, dotting kisses down the side of your face.
“Good girl,” he says hoarsely. “Still doing okay, lovely?”
“Yeah,” you say, somewhat dizzy. “Remus, it feels so good.”
“Good,” he croons. “It should feel good, love. Ready for me to move?”
“Mhm.”
He pulls out slowly, dragging against your sensitive walls. He starts mouthing at your neck again before he pushes back inside you, filling you up all over again. A slew of expletives roll out of your mouth, unbidden and entirely unlike you, as Remus begins pumping your breast again, the rhythm matching that of his thrusts. He sucks the flesh of your neck between his teeth, and you bite down hard on your lower lip to repress what promises to be a high-pitched and deeply mortifying sound.
Remus praises you amply, soft kisses and reverent touches and a raspy “Fuck, sweetheart, just like that.” Your head floats or swims or both, your body tensed all over and yet completely plaint beneath Remus’ hands. He moves back to your mouth, discovering your bottom lip held captive between your teeth.
“Come on, don’t do that,” he chides, easing it free with gentle kisses. “Let me hear you, bet you sound so pretty.”
The Welsh accent that’s grown faint after years of living away from home is emerging now, as is the crude vocabulary it's tied to in memory, a host of barely comprehensible profanities spewing from Remus’ lips when you clench on him again. His grip tightens on your tit, and a moan tears from the back of your throat.
“That’s it,” he praises, head dipping to kiss the soft spot he’s found under your ear. “There you are, lovely girl.”
The coil in your core grows impossibly tighter, your thighs quivering as you approach a peak you’ve never known before. Remus feels it, cooing softly even as he drives into you harder.
“You gonna cum, sweetheart?” You nod dazedly. “Good, good, just let it happen, I’ve got you.”
“Come here,” you demand again, and he wastes no time in obliging you. He kisses your lips sore as you dig your nails into his shoulders, pulling his body flush against yours, the feeling inside you growing so great you don’t know where to put it, don’t know if you can contain it. You can’t remember ever feeling this close to someone, Remus’ touch the only thing keeping you from hurtling off some unknown precipice.
“Let go,” he urges, and you do. You trust him to catch you.
It’s bliss like you’ve never known. You cry out, and Remus’ hand slides down from your breast to spread wide and flat against your ribs. Steadying. He kisses soothingly at your jaw as you gasp and pant your way back to him, grip slackening on his shoulders.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, though you really haven’t done much at all.
“Are you—” You swallow, choking on the emotion that’s risen unbidden in your throat. “Are you close?”
Remus smiles, coming back to your lips like he can’t help himself. He pecks you once, twice. “Sweetheart, I’m more than close. I’ve barely been holding myself together since you kissed me.”
Well, he’d actually kissed you, but you’ll take the compliment anyway.
“Do you think you’ll be alright if I move again?” he asks. “It’s okay if not.”
“You can,” you say certainly, leaning up on your elbows to see him better. “Is there…anything I can do to help?”
The smile fades from his face, leaving something far more tender in its wake. “Just, keep looking at me like that?” He says it almost like he’s embarrassed, voice quiet with supplication.
You want to tell him you’d never needed asking to look at him, but you don’t, keeping your eyes on his obediently as he pumps into you. He really must have been close, because he’s cursing again not long after, accent twisting his syllables with a gruff pleasure. Your walls contract at the movement, still sensitive, and that’s all it takes. Remus digs his fingers into your waist and makes sounds you’re sure you’ll dream about, panting, breathy moans you sit up to smother against your lips. He follows you back down onto the mattress, mouth slotted against your own. You hold him to you until his breaths even and his grip on you loosens.
“Was that alright?” he asks, some of the rasp still lingering in his voice.
You can’t help the laugh that escapes you, dizzy with affection. “Yeah, it was good,” you promise him. Understatement of the year. “Really good, Rem.”
“Good,” he echoes, lips brushing the skin under your eye. You don’t know how you know, but you can feel the amusement building in him just before he asks, “Tired yet?”
You guffaw. The force of it jostles him on top of you, and his lips curve against your cheek. “A little bit, yeah.” Actually, you hadn’t realized how exhausting sex would be. If it didn’t mean having to take your eyes off Remus, you’d have closed them and passed out by now.
“Good,” he says again, hands sliding down your waist as he moves to stand again. You make a small sound as he shifts, and Remus shushes you, slipping out from inside you. You watch fascinatedly as he removes the condom, sticky with cum. He tosses it in the wastebasket under his desk and walks away from you.
“Hey,” you protest. “You’d better not be sneaking off to sleep on the couch.”
His chuckle echoes in the bathroom, followed by the sound of a cabinet opening. “So mistrustful,” he says when he comes back in with a damp towel. “What’ve I done to arouse such suspicion?”
Your fuzzy brain gets stuck on the word arouse in his teasing tone, and it takes you a second to answer. “Well, I’m here and a blink away from falling asleep, so you tell me.”
“Fair enough.” He rolls his eyes good-naturedly, taking your thigh in his grasp to move it aside. “Alright if I clean you up, love?”
You startle, coming up on your elbows to see where Remus is holding the towel between your legs. “I didn’t realize it’d be so messy,” you admit. “You don’t have to, though, I can do it myself.”
“I don’t mind,” he says, thumb soothing over your knee. “S’my mess anyway.” He seems to have not quite agreed with himself to say that last part aloud, a blush spreading over his cheeks.
“Sure,” you say, mostly to alleviate his embarrassment. You let your weight lean more heavily on your elbows, trying your best to look relaxed. “Sure, if you’re alright with it.”
“Might be a bit sensitive,” he warns. You’d guessed as much, but it's worth it for all the praises he rains down upon you as he works, finishing with a kiss to the side of your knee.
You miss him humiliatingly when he goes to the bathroom again to discard the towel. It’s all you can do not to reach for him when he comes back, but luckily Remus reads your mind anyway, slipping under the covers and tugging you to him until his lips rest against your forehead.
“That was really great,” you tell him.
“I thought so too.”
“You’ll stay here, right?”
A low laugh. “Yeah, sweetheart. I’m staying here.”
❆ ❆ ❆
Remus hasn’t known anyone to sleep in longer than Sirius, but you seem to be vying for his title. The sun has long since passed above his windows when Remus wakes, and still he has time to spend idle hours marveling at the closeness of you. His nose is cold above the covers, but everywhere your bodies are pressed together is warm, your palm flat against his chest and one of your legs wormed between his own. Your fingers twitch as you dream.
It has to be early afternoon by the time he rises, slipping his hand carefully from beneath you and plodding into the kitchen. The blanket is still on the couch where you left it, throw pillow creased with your indentation. Your mugs are discarded on the coffee table with globs of once-hot cocoa stuck to the bottom. Bright light refracts off the snow outside and into his kitchen, making everything look shiny new.
Remus starts the kettle first, letting that warm up while he rifles through the cabinets for his big mixing bowl and starts whisking together ingredients. A bird chirps outside as the kettle gurgles, and somehow the peace of Remus’ kitchen feels more complete knowing that you’re sleeping just down the hall.
Until, apparently, you’re not. Your footsteps are so silent he startles when you appear, still blinking yourself awake as you cross your arms over the sweater you’ve thrown on with your bottoms from the night before. Remus’ sweater. And Remus had thought he’d come to terms with the idea of you here, in his apartment like the best Christmas gift of all time, but apparently not, because his heart stutters and stops at the sight of you.
He’d thought you’d looked adorable in the soft glow of the Christmas lights the night before, and again tucked into his sheets this morning, but you’re almost ethereal now. Sunlight bathes the planes of your face and gleams off your hair, making you appear almost like you’re emanating the bright light rather than standing in it. You smile at him, seraphim.
“Morning. Sorry I didn’t ask,” you say, fingering the hem of Remus’ sweater. “I was cold and you were gone, I hope you don’t mind.”
Mind? Remus can’t even think.
“Course not,” he manages, but just barely. It’s more an exhale than a statement. “Did you sleep alright?”
“Really well,” you say. His sleeves cover your fingers as you rest your elbows on the counter, and your gaze has gone a bit shy again, but Remus can hardly blame you. You both seemed to have experienced unusual nerve the night before. He only hopes you aren’t regretting your part in it. And now that he’s had some time to think, he hopes even more that you’d truly wanted it in the first place. “Did you?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
You lean a bit closer in a way that he doubts either of you are even slightly unaware of, peering into the mixing bowl. “What’re you making?”
“I’m experimenting,” he says, though he wishes now he weren’t. He wanted to make you something good, but his confidence in his adaptation is waning now that you’re in the room. He should have gone with something basic, tried-and-true. “Or, I’m attempting. Gingerbread pancakes?”
His voice crawls up into a question, as if he really has no idea what it is he’s trying to make (maybe that’s closer to the truth), but Remus’ regrets vanish instantly at the genuine elation that lights your expression.
“Really?”
A laugh startles out of him, giddy. “Yeah, does that sound alright?”
“More than alright,” you declare with full seriousness, seating yourself at the bar counter. “That sounds amazing, Rem, thank you. Merlin, I owe you so big for all of this.”
“I think you’ve more than made it up to me.” It slips out without permission, Remus too high on the flow of your conversation to filter the words through his brain before they reach his mouth. His loathsome, traitorous mouth. “I mean, I’m sorry—fuck, that sounds awful—I only meant that I’ve had a really good time with you here. I’m glad you stayed.”
You flush horribly, and Remus doesn’t expect he’s faring much better.
“Not that I’m only glad because of—or, I’m always glad to have you. As a friend, too.”
There’s a tiny pinch in your features, gone before he can diagnose it. Somehow, you seem even more uncomfortable. “Right.” You give him a thin smile. It’s a hearty attempt, but you’re too genuine a soul to fake it. Remus hates himself for it. “As a friend.”
They’re his own words, put hearing them from your mouth and with that piss-poor smile feels like having a fire poker jammed between his ribs.
With his track record this morning, he really should be taking a vow of silence, but he can’t seem to stop himself. “Just friends, then?” Hesitance makes his voice sound quiet even in the silent kitchen. He looks down, stirring the batter to avoid watching the answer take form on your face.
“I mean,” your tone is a match to his, “is that what you want?”
A short, soft laugh escapes him. “I think I made what I want fairly clear last night.”
There’s a short silence. “I thought I did too.”
It’s a conscious effort to keep stirring. Had you? Remus had kissed you, he’d brought you to his room, he’d been the one to ask if you wanted to do more. And you’d been game for it all, sure, but he can’t help but wonder if you were just going along with it. If maybe you’d thought it was just a fuck, something he’d come up with to pass the time while you were both snowed in, no strings attached. Remus could understand that. He could disentangle the strings from last night if it’s what you want. But he’s liked you for years. He could love you oh so easily. He’s practically teetering on the edge of it already, though you’ve only been friends all this time.
Remus spoons some batter into a waiting pan on the stove. He’s debating asking what exactly it is that you thought you’d made clear when you speak again.
“I understand if it’s too much for you.” Your voice is shy. He looks up, and your shoulders are hunched as if you’re trying to hide yourself. You shrink further under his gaze. “We can stay just friends if it’s…if that’s what you want. I want whatever’s easier for you.” Your next words are so impossibly soft, Remus has to strain to hear them over the low sizzling of the pancake batter. “I really want you to stay in my life.”
“What?” It’s a staccato, loud enough that it surprises you both, Remus stepping toward you while you nearly flinch back. “Sorry.” His hand goes up, reaching into the space between you as if he can soothe you from feet away. He lowers his volume. “Sorry, sweetheart, I just—I didn’t realize that was even on the table. I would never want to not be in your life.”
“I just mean that I don’t want to make things weird for you, or for everyone else—”
“Hey.” He manages to cross the distance this time, his hand landing on your wrist atop the counter. Remus isn’t sure why he needs it there so desperately, but he suddenly feels much better. “There is nothing that could make any of us not want to be friends with you. I can speak for everyone in that regard. Okay?”
You look at him consideringly for a moment. Remus holds your stare, letting you see his certainty. “Okay,” you echo, sounding unsure. He’ll deal with that later, he decides.
“Okay,” he says once more, and it’d almost be firm if it weren’t so gentled by the tenderness he can never seem to get rid of around you. Even so, what he says next doesn’t sound particularly tender. It’s not very kind to you, he knows, but Remus is selfish, and he feels (selfishly) like he’s done his part already. He tries to phrase it as nicely as he can. “Can you tell me what it is that you want, please?”
You try to shrink again, and Remus’ grip tightens on your wrist instinctually as if to keep you from running off. He swipes his thumb over your skin apologetically. “Remus, come on.” You sound almost upset, but it’s hard to tell with your voice so quiet. “I know I’m not that good at—at covering myself up. I must have hearts in my eyes half the time I look at you.”
Remus would give a month’s rent to know what you can see in his eyes right now. Even if he’d been hoping for an answer something like that, he hadn’t expected it. And for you to act like it’s been obvious…he does his best to think back.
You’ve always been a shy thing. It had taken James months to get you to be remotely yourself around them, and though you’d seemed to warm to Remus first, you’d always retained some of your bashfulness when you were alone together. He’d chalked it up to the result of two people, quiet by nature, with no wildly extroverted James or Sirius or Lily to run interference.
You’ve always been kind to him, but you’re kind to everyone. How is anyone supposed to suspect favoritism from a soul as indiscriminately sweet as yours?
He recalls your voice last night, thin and reedy and fragile as the cattails that had bordered the river behind his house as a kid. Wary of getting swept along by the current, but willing to go if Remus would take you. Do you want this?
He’d called you oblivious for asking. How could you wonder, when he’d been the one to kiss you and has probably been looking like he wanted to for years? He’s certainly been thinking about it for as long. But perhaps your obliviousness is another congruity between the two of you.
So much for opposites attract.
“I think I’m an idiot,” he says, and mercifully, a smile far more real than the last sneaks onto your face.
“You are not,” you reply, ever forgiving.
“Don’t tell Sirius,” he warns, “but I really think I am.” His voice drops into a more earnest register. “I had no idea, love, I’m sorry. Maybe you’re a better actress than you thought. But if you don’t want to be friends, I don’t want to either.” Remus hesitates. “Or, I always want to be your friend, just—”
“Remus?”
Finally. Someone needs to stop him. “Yeah?”
“Your pancake…”
He turns to find a thin spire of smoke rising from the pan. “Oh, fuck.” He grabs a spatula and quickly flips the pancake, but there’s no saving it. The bottom side is completely blackened. It’s inedible. “Sorry, I…I’m not sure I have enough batter for much more.”
“It’s fine.” There’s laughter in your tone, and that’s more than enough to make up for it. “It was a really sweet thought, that’s what matters anyway.”
Remus turns to find you’ve slipped out of your seat and are standing uncertainly on the threshold of the kitchen. His heart warms with incandescent, aching fondness.
“Would you come here?” he asks.
You comply with an eagerness he wonders he’s never noticed before, stepping forward to let him fold you into his arms. Your wrists cross over his mid back and the tip of his nose mushes into your hair as he touches his lips to the top of your head. He can’t believe he could have been holding you like this all along if only he hadn’t been so thick. He supposes he’ll have to make the most of it now.
“Let’s do away with asking about want, does that sound alright?” He rubs lightly between your shoulder blades, wonders if you like the feel of his breath on your scalp. “How about you tell me if anything comes up that you don’t want, and I’ll do the same.”
“Yeah.” Remus knows he likes the feel of your voice on his skin, chin moving against his chest. “Yeah, that sounds good.”
“Good.” He smiles, pressing another kiss to your head. “Okay, should we venture out to find something for breakfast? Or lunch, I suppose it is by now.”
You ease out of his arms. “I really should go home.” There’s an apology already embedded in your tone, but you add one anyway. “Sorry, but my cat’s been there all night by herself, so…”
“Right.” Remus ignores the dull throb behind his sternum, which is really a bit dramatic. He’ll see you soon, surely. “Yeah, that makes sense. Think you’ll be able to drive?”
“I mean, I looked outside.” You shrug, backing towards where you’d hung your coat the night before. “The roads here are cleared, which I hope means they’ve gotten to most of them already.”
“That’s good,” he says, though he feels the opposite. Your poor cat, he’s pitted completely against her now. She’s done nothing to deserve the resentment he’s directing at her, almost petulant in his malcontent. “Good, good.”
You’re both silent as you put on your shoes, your scarf. It’s not unusual for the two of you, but it lacks its usual easy contentedness. Your eyes flit up as you pull on your new gloves, a silent thanks in them that you know Remus won’t let you voice aloud again. Despite the upset in his chest, he smiles.
“I…listen, I have to go home,” you tell him, looking down as you wriggle your fingers more snugly into the gloves. “I have to feed my cat. But that doesn’t necessarily mean I want to…leave.”
Remus can’t see how that changes anything, but he recognizes it for the olive branch it is. You’re both so uncertain, and you’re trying to alleviate his worries about what you leaving right now means. He can return the favor.
“I don’t want you to leave either,” he says, “but I get it. She seems important to you, best to keep her well.”
“Exactly.” You smile, relieved. “But I mean, if you’re not doing anything, you could come meet her? We could pick up breakfast on the way. Or I could make you something there.”
Remus can’t believe his luck. And, once again, his stupidity in not getting there himself. Why is it that all of a sudden, everything that has to do with you seems so absurdly difficult? At least one of you is thinking clearly.
“Yeah, that would be fantastic.” He’s grinning hugely, totally unlike him but liking it very much. “Let me grab my coat.”
“Wait.” There’s a newly familiar breathless quality to your voice, and when Remus turns you’re already coming forward to meet him. Your palm slides against the stubble along his jaw as you stretch your neck, kissing him sweetly on the lips. “There,” you say, timidity shrouded beneath a good layer of happiness, “now we’re even.”
Remus laughs, loud and startled. He wants to be generous with you, he really does, but he still thinks you’re far from even. “I’m not sure about that, sweetheart,” he says warmly, pressing a brief kiss to the corner of your eyebrow, “but we'll get there.”
#remus lupin#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x you#remus lupin x y/n#remus lupin x fem!reader#remus lupin x self insert#remus lupin fanfiction#remus lupin fanfic#remus lupin fic#remus lupin fluff#remus lupin smut#remus lupin drabble#remus lupin oneshot#remus lupin one shot#remus lupin scenario#remus lupin imagine#james potter#sirius black#lily evans#marauders#the marauders#marauders era#marauders fanfiction#marauders fandom
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Hazbin Hotel x Sick!Reader
A/N: Hey guys! I wanted to do some more x reader headcanons just because they’re so fun! I love the idea of the characters caring for you when you’re sick, it’s just so cute. I hope you enjoy it!
Pairing: Hazbin Hotel x Reader
Warnings: None (if you don't count tooth-rotting fluff)
Characters: Alastor, Charlie, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Husk, Sir Pentious, Lucifer
🦌📻Alastor📻🦌:
Essentially hides you away in his room: wants more than anything to take care of you, but refuses to expose this “softer” side of him to anyone else. If anybody knew that you were the Radio Demon’s only weakness, not only would that put him in danger, but you as well.
Will prepare any food that your heart desires - his mother brought him up to be an excellent cook! His recommended feel-good food is his mother’s jambalaya, but you absolutely love when he makes etouffee!
If anybody dares to try and disturb your well-needed sleep, he broadcast their screams to remind them just why the hotel has a radio tower…
Will suggest that you take advantage of the bayou-side of his room for the fresh air, but of course will not force you to do anything against your complete comfort.
The best thing that he knows to do is what his mother did to him whenever he was sick: Sit in bed with him and tell him Creole folk tales. They always enamored him, and just the fact that he was allowing you to see this personal side of him made you feel better.
At the end of the day, Alastor would take advantage of the beautiful setting that the dark bayou side of his room provided and conjure up a lovely scene of fireflies, all while softly playing his piano and singing his favorite songs to guide you to sleep (You are the only person he will let hear his singing). While Alastor may seem heartless from afar, you wouldn’t trade this demon for all of the money in the world.
🗝️😈Charlie😈🗝️:
Would definitely notice that you were sick before you did and insisted that you get plenty of bedrest. When you refused, insisting that you were ok, she would monitor you until you finally accepted that you were sick and let her take care of you. She would say, “I’m not saying I told you so, buuuuuut…”
Takes care of you to the point where some tasks of the hotel were neglected, but to be honest, it was a win-win for everyone in the hotel. She was happy that you were being taken care of, and everyone else was happy that they didn’t have to participate in trust exercises.
She would crack open her book of the story of Hell - it always calms her down during an extermination, so hopefully it could calm you down as you try to sleep.
If she absolutely had to leave the hotel to do/get something, she would most definitely buy a little keepsake and bring it back for you.
She would use her love for singing to lull you to sleep, singing sweet lullabies that her mother used to sing to her as a child.
You have to constantly remind her to take care of herself as well, as she will literally remain at your bedside, not caring to eat or sleep, until you get better. She often gets so caught up in caring for others that she forgets to care for herself! You tell her that it would genuinely make you feel better to see her taking care of herself as well.
🪽⚔️Vaggie⚔️🪽:
Gets more defensive over you than usual, which honestly scares everyone. Nobody wants to so much as speak to you wrong in fear of Vaggie literally attacking them. Having Vaggie around is the definition of scary dog privileges.
She’s honestly extremely dramatic when it comes to you getting sick, which may seem ridiculous, but think about it: she was thrown away by her “family” in heaven, and now you’re the only person that she truly has. You confide in her, you allow her to let her guard down. If she lost you, she doesn’t know how she could even exist. So whether you have a cold or something more serious, she will automatically jump to the worst conclusions and get worried as Hell.
As tough as she seems, Vaggie loves to cuddle. She will literally lay in bed with you all day, not caring if she gets sick as well. You’re the only person that she can be vulnerable with, and if you have to be in bed all day, you better bet she’ll be right there next to you.
Her love language is absolutely telling you about all the things that she would do to defend you. She will go into immense detail about the things that she would do for you, and you will always listen in awe. She has been through so much, and this is the only way that she knows how to express her true love for you.
The last thing she wants is for somebody to feel abandoned in their struggle like she did when she fell from Heaven, especially you. She will make sure that you know how much you are valued and loved, not just by her, but by everyone at the hotel.
When you’re finally ready to get out of bed and start participating in hotel duties again, she monitors you the whole time to make sure that you’re not over-exerting yourself.
🕷️💖Angel Dust💖🕷️:
Is very upset and on edge - Valentino forces him to work everyday, no matter the circumstances, and not being at the hotel to care for you or at least watch over you makes him feel horrible.
Basically forces you to sleep as much as you can, even better if it’s in his room so he can see that you’re okay immediately when he gets home.
Encourages you to cuddle with Fat Nuggets - he’s essentially a cute and cuddly heating pad. (He actually gives Fat Nuggets this adorable pep talk about how he needs to take good care of you while “dad” is at work)
He wholeheartedly believes in the power of comedy, so he essentially treats your bedrest as a stand-up comedy show for him to perform in order to make you laugh. He’ll tell stupid jokes, put together horrible dances, or even just hide in places and scare you in hopes that making you laugh will help you forget how bad you feel.
Loves talking to you after work. You’re essentially the only person that he takes off his hypersexual mask around, and he knows that he can be himself around you, that you would never judge him. So, sometimes he will get home to find you already asleep and get in bed with you, holding you tight, whispering all of the things that he wanted to tell you about today, hoping that at least some of his words wiggle their way into your dreams.
Loves sappy rom com movies and will 100% force you to watch them with him. He claims it’s because the “good vibes” of the romance will make you feel better, but to be honest, he just wants someone to watch his dumb movies with.
♦️🥃Husk🥃♥️:
Will blame himself for your sickness, claiming that he shouldn’t have let you drink so much over the past couple of days (He literally cannot comprehend the idea that people can be sick NOT from being hungover lol).
When you insist that it’s not his fault, he’ll ease up. He’ll use some of his bartending skills to make some sort of juice mocktail for you and will definitely sneak in some vitamin C to heal you faster.
Everyone - specifically Angel - will wonder why the fuck the bar hasn’t been stocked in days (It’s because Husk has been chilling in bed/taking care of you nonstop).
This is the only time that he will completely surrender to the idea of being one big stuffed animal to cuddle with. I mean, he’s warm, soft, and he purrs! What’s more therapeutic than that?
This is also a great time to get uninterrupted talking time with Husk. He’s a great listener, so you’ve always opened up to him, but it took him a while to open up to you too. He had told you that you were one of the only people that he trusted enough to confide in, but always seemed to air on the side of caution when sharing his personal struggles because it always seemed that someone would just pop up at the bar asking for a drink whenever it happened. This was one of the few times that the two of you could be completely open and vulnerable with each other without the risk of outside judgment.
Given the fact that he was such a gambler, Husk has a knack for all sorts of card games. If you get too bored, just give him a deck of cards and the possibilities for entertainment are endless. Want him to teach you how to play poker or rummy? Done. Want him to embarrass himself while he tries to relearn some card tricks that he used to flaunt? Done and done.
🐍⚙️Sir Pentious⚙️🐍:
The second you told him you were sick, he would waste no time in finding one of his many inventions that could help you in some way. He definitely has some complex medical screening device hidden somewhere that he could use… he just has to remember where he put it.
If you complain about being sore, he will insist that you snuggle up next to him. Because he’s a cold-blooded reptile, his body is one big ice pack! On the other end, if you feel yourself coming down with some feverish chills, he has you covered! His bedroom ceiling is essentially one huge heat lamp, so feel free to chill under there, too!
Has assigned himself as your personal nurse and will provide anything that your heart desires. If it for some reason cannot be found within the hotel, he will travel to any ring of Hell necessary to make sure that you are well taken care of. This man is DETERMINED.
You can tell that he’s taking this seriously because he actually neglects his “evil duties” for a couple of days. The airship isn’t even mentioned until you heal (unless, of course, you feel that taking a ride on the airship would make you feel better. Then, of course he will set it up for you!).
Despite literally voicing his complete and utter devotion to your every flight of fancy, this man is still as awkward as ever. He will still struggle to ask you if you want to cuddle, quite literally fluttering around the subject until you bring it up for him.
At the end of the day, though, Sir Pentious is probably the sweetest sinner you could’ve ended up with as your caretaker. He may be awkward, but boy, does he love you!
👹👼Lucifer👼👹:
While you are resting in bed, he will conjure up the most delightful images of anything you request (his favorite, though, is a group of ducklings waddling through a golden lake together 🫶)
Being the King of Hell, he has so many interesting stories to tell you if you’re willing to listen. He will gladly tell you stories as you lay in bed with him, slowly lulling you to sleep. (His daughter clearly got her love of storytelling from him).
He loves that you trust him enough to let him take care of you - he doesn’t often have people around, let alone people that he truly loves. Just your presence in his room truly fills him with so much joy.
He didn’t want to annoy you with his ramblings about his many rubber ducks so he was ecstatic when you asked him to give you a tour of all of them. This man was telling you each and every duck’s name, backstory, etc. and honestly, it was adorable. When he quickly glazed over one of the ducks anxiously, you asked why. He then shyly revealed that it was, in fact, a rubber duck that looked just like you.
His love language is definitely gift-giving. This rubber duck would lead to him showing the many, MANY gifts he has created for you in his free time. He always has a ton of downtime, so making gifts for people is his favorite hobby. These gifts include, but aren’t limited to: various duck items, binded storybooks, music boxes, paintings, etc. This man is TALENTED, to say the least. He just hopes that looking at these will distract you enough from being sick.
Also, his room is by far the comfiest to sleep in while you’re sick… the mood lighting that is naturally provided from his glowing light shows is simply unmatched.
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#Charlie Morningstar x Reader#charlie x reader#vaggie x reader#lucifer x reader#sir pentious x reader#husk x reader#angel dust x reader#alastor x reader#helluva boss#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin hotel imagine#hazbin hotel oneshots#sick reader#charlie morningstar#vaggie#lucifer morningstar#sir pentious#hazbin husk#angel dust#alastor#radio demon#blitzo#stolas
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out of style
Summary: A year after your divorce, you and Bucky come face to face at your closest friends' wedding. Emotions run high, leading to a fiery confrontation that takes a detour to Bucky's hotel room, where the old flame might just reignite.
Pairing: ex-husband!Bucky Barnes x female reader
Warnings: 18+, teasing, dirty talk, pet names, daddy kink, fingering, oral séx, no condom (but f is on birth control), language, a little alcohol, no mention of y/n
Word Count: 7.2K
Bucky Barnes masterlist
A/N: I really hope you'll enjoy it!
Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!
What an ass... He has no shame at all. And the worst part? You’re still somehow surprised by it. As if you haven’t known him for years.
You look away, making sure to take a sip from your wine before focusing on the conversation again. It’s Nat’s big day, and you’re so happy for her, but listening to this story for the seventh time is exhausting. Same reactions, too: “Wow, he’s so well trained.” or “The wedding bands didn’t fall even once. Enzo is fantastic.” He’s a trained dog, you don’t get why they’re so fucking impressed.
You give Nat a smile before you excuse yourself to go to the bar. Maybe you should get a cocktail, the wine tastes terrible. On the way, you notice Steve talking to Miss Sunshine in the right corner, and you just nod toward him politely, trying to look unbothered. It’s his best friend’s girlfriend after all. What did you expect? Plus, maybe it’s just a polite conversation.
“A Sex on the Beach, please,” you murmur to the bartender.
“Vodka so early?”
You turn your head with a sigh just to see a guy you recognize from Nat’s engagement party. A fresh haircut, a simple suit and wandering eyes.
“Is there a time limit for a cocktail?” you respond, rolling your eyes when you notice he is still fixated on your chest.
He immediately raises his hands in defense as he takes a seat next to you.
God, if you hate one thing about being single besides the lack of sex is this… needing to deal with those men. It was perfect when Bucky used to take care of them.
“I didn't mean it like that, sweetheart.” You scrunch your nose instantly. God no!
“Here you go!” The bartender places the glass gently in front of you, and you’ve never been more grateful to see her.
“Thank you!” You smile before taking a huge sip, hoping it will turn him off and make him get away.
“A vodka tonic for me.” His tone is commanding, and you try not to roll your eyes again as he leans in closer. “We’re matching.”
“Huh?” You choke.
“Vodka lovers.”
Alright, time to get out of here!
You quickly grab your glass and stand up, making sure to fix your dress just in case, but his eyes are already on your breasts again. For fuck’s sake! How is he Steve’s cousin?
And talking about Steve, you almost jump when you hear him saying your name.
“Hey.” You’ve never been happier to see him.
You can’t say the same thing about his friend, who’s right next to him, looking the creepy blondie up and down.
“Is everything alright?” Steve asks with obvious concern. “Do you feel okay?”
“Hey, man! The food is great and the company even better. Look at her, such an eye candy, am I right?” He chuckles at his own disgusting comment. “I mean, you’re married. Don’t answer that, I don’t want Romanoff on my back.” And after all of this, he has the audacity to wink at Steve. But before you can throw your cocktail over his shirt and make a scene, Bucky’s already getting in front of you, blocking your view with his huge back.
“If you want to keep your teeth, get the fuck out of here and never, ever get even within three feet of my wife. Am I fucking clear?”
His tone is so cold, harsh, and arrogant at the same time, but also so possessive. It surprises both: you and Steve, because he immediately looks at you confused before dropping his eyes on your hand.
He must be looking for a ring.
God, you never hated Bucky more than when you see blondie standing up and going straight outside just like that. It makes you even angrier because it’s always a man who has to explain the obvious signs to these assholes so they leave. You say no? You are playing hard to get. You are with a man? Then it’s all off-limits.
You sip your cocktail with frustration, the taste of vodka lingering on your tongue.
Then, you take a step toward Bucky, grabbing his arm and turning him so he can face you. “Listen and listen good, I’m not your wife and I don’t need you to play the macho hero! I can handle myself, so back off!” You wanted to leave after saying this, but the way he looks at you makes you change your mind. His eyes softened, showing a trace of your old Bucky, and it only pisses you off more. He labeled you just like that... “I divorced you for a reason, I’m not your property or responsibility. Stay out of my fucking business or I’ll show you exactly how well I can take care of myself!”
You hand him your half-full glass and storm out, seeing red. Or well, blue.
You anticipated that he’d come after you, of course you did. You know him, as much as you hate to admit. You still know him well. Too well.
And when you hear his sigh behind you, you don’t jump.
“You can handle yourself, but he was all over you. Sorry for being a gentleman.” He apologizes sarcastically. “I guess old habits die hard.”
“Too bad, Barnes! I am not your little wife. I am not your girlfriend. I am not even your friend.” You turn your head to look at him as he’s standing on the other side of the balcony. “And I am not that flavor of the month of yours, you have to kill these habits.”
He raises his head. “Flavor of the month?”
“Yeah, your plus one. You know, you should take care of her instead of trying to play hero and calling me your wife.”
“Keeping an eye on me? He smirks. “Thought you divorced me for a reason.”
Fuck him! He thinks he got you... “I did! You couldn’t open your mouth to say what bothers you, remember?”
“Well, I opened my mouth to do something else, far more exciting.”
You gasp, incredulous at his audacity.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You scream, walking toward him. “Seriously!”
“What is wrong with me? You tell me! You divorced me for a reason.”
“Don’t you have someone else to bother? Fuck off already, Bucky!”
“You got angrier with me now than back there with him. Unbelievable!” He shakes his head.
You take a deep breath, trying not to have a crisis. You are not gonna let him get to you. “Look, can you just pretend this didn’t happen?”
He instantly looks at you shocked as he leans in. “This as in,” he waves between you two. “Our marriage? You think I can pretend our marriage never happened?” His voice grew louder, his words punctuated by sharp, angry inflections. “You think just because we divorced, you get to ask me that? How can you...”
You’re taken completely aback by his whole attitude, and it’s like you’re back in time at your wedding as he made you sneak out so he can make you come on his tongue after saying all sorts of things.
You don’t know why you suddenly remembered that, but you need to snap out of it.
“I meant the whole interaction, you annoying man!”
“How was I supposed to know?” He looks much more relaxed now, though, and before you can think about it, you’re poking his chest.
“Why would I tell you to forget about our marriage, Bucky?” You smile. “You are more than free to think about me as you fuck your little flavor of the month. I am not gonna stop that.”
You see his eyebrows raise instantly as his gaze drops to your finger. “My little flavor of the month? How many times did you think about me fucking her?” His hand finds your wrist. “Did you wonder if I’m fucking her from behind as I choke her? Did you imagine me coming all over her tits? Did you-”
You grab his cheeks, just the way he likes it, to stop him.
“You think I have nothing better to think about? I have my own dicks that occupy my thoughts,” you lie through your teeth, and he knows it. God, he knows it as he chuckles right away.
“What’s so funny, Barnes?” You let go, expecting him to do the same, but he’s still holding your other wrist.
“You have no dick to think about. I know you broke up with your last flavor of the month, honey.”
He knows how much you hate being mocked with the word honey, but you bite the inside of your cheeks. “It’s funny really,” you fake giggle, looking up at him. “You assume I don’t have someone already. Maybe I’m just enjoying my life after our divorce... new dick every month since I am a free woman. I don’t even need something serious. You know how much I love sex.”
His smile immediately drops, his face reddening.
“You are absolutely infuriating!” Even his tone carries a sense of irritation.
“Aww, what happened?”
It’s his turn to grab your face, making you gasp. You don’t remember the last time he touched you, and you’re shivering.
“You’re playing a very dangerous game, and you know it!”
“I don’t play games, Bucky, that is your specialty.” You smile, trying to maintain your composure. “Now let me go and get back to your little girlfriend. You can be mad about how many dicks she thinks about.”
“You can’t do the whole non-attachment shit. I know you well, don’t forget that. You’re my...” He talks so fast you’re surprised he stopped. You know what he was gonna say, of course you know. The audacity!
“I am not your wife, Bucky. You literally have a woman with you here tonight. We divorced, we live in separate places, and we fuck different people.”
“Who are you fucking, huh?” He almost spits the last words. “Tell me! Nat said you’re single.”
“You’ve been asking Nat about my personal life?” And she is spilling to him? No way.
“Fuck...” he frowns, dropping his hand from your face. “No.”
“Steve!” You realize. “God, this is pathetic! Why do you keep tabs on me, huh? Can’t you just mind your own business? Is your life goal to piss me off?”
“I’m not the one calling Jessica the flavor of the month.”
“Ha!” You laugh in his face. “Well, you have no success in getting a girlfriend. And they all look pretty familiar.” You can’t hide the venom in your voice. “The differences are they’re just taller and with less in the chest department. Quite interesting, don’t you think?”
“So you’re keeping tabs on me too!”
“You flatter yourself. It’s quite obvious, look at Jessica. Does she know you were married to me? Does she beg you to fuck her mouth? Does she...” You take a deep breath. “Does she call you daddy, James? Does she ride you until you lose control and turn her on her back so you can pound her?” You don’t care anymore. Right or wrong, you’re gonna let it all out. “Do you praise her? Tell her how wet she is for you? How your cock is made for her? Do you... do you tell her you love her while she’s coming? Do you fucking call her your good girl?”
“Jesus-” You don’t let him continue his sentence, interrupting him.
“Does she take you like I did? Does she beg for you because she feels empty, James? Does she? Did any of them?”
“Stop. It.”
“Why? You didn’t stop!”
He sighs, reaching out to grab your cheeks gently. “No one does, are you happy? I don’t even fucking try. I don’t let anyone call me daddy, I don’t choke anyone and I definitely don’t fuck anyone like I fucked you. Are you happy? Seeing me miserable and pathetic? Are you enjoying it?”
You can’t deny the satisfaction and relief you feel when you hear that. Dating post-him was a very bad experience overall, so him not upgrading, indeed, in any way, makes you feel victorious. At least, you’re both suffering.
“Yeah, I actually enjoy that.”
“What about you?” He snaps. “Do you do all of that?”
“I don’t want to be called daddy, James.”
“You know exactly what I meant! You call those losers daddy? You choke around their cocks? Do you beg for their small dicks to go deeper and finish yourself off after it?”
“Like I begged for your small dick?” You ask annoyed, knowing how dumb this lie is, but what else can you say? No one compares to him and never will.
His response shocks you as he reaches down to the zipper of his worn jeans and pulls it down.
“What the fuck are you doing? Are you crazy?”
“Wanted to, you know… give you more mocking material in case you forgot how small it is.”
You have to think twice about what to say because the first thought was: I have enough videos, thanks. But you can’t. You can’t expose yourself like that.
“James, what the fuck are you doing? Are you trying to hurt me?”
“With my small dick?”
You look away for a few seconds, not wanting him to read you. “Why are you doing this? We divorced, you’re seeing someone, I’m good by myself... just let it go.”
He smiles at that, and you realize you indirectly told him you are indeed not fucking anyone.
“Why would I let go of my wife?”
You’re slapping his chest before you realize what you’re doing. “Stop this, Bucky! Just fucking stop.”
He’s hurting you, how can he not see that?
“You said you divorced me for a reason. You said...” he pauses. “You ordered me to leave you alone. Well, what if I don’t want to?”
“What are you, a fucking stalker?”
“No!” He almost screams. “I am fucking in love with you, you infuriating woman!”
“W-what?”
He can’t be joking about this, can he? He is not cruel. He is not vile. This isn’t a game.
“I’m in love with you. I love you. You own me... you fucking control me.”
“How?”
He laughs hysterically, running his hands through his hair before pulling. “I am fucking obsessed with you: how you are, if you’re doing well, if you miss me, if you’re fucking someone else, if your date went great, if you regret being with me, if someone else makes you smile wider. I dream about you, I am so miserable I couldn’t be with anyone. With Mia it lasted a month. I wasn’t... I wasn’t okay. I am not okay.”
You look at him, waiting for more. “Go on and zip your jeans, we’re in public.” You watch him quickly do what you demand before you continue. “And what about Jessica tonight? Or Alexa a month ago? Why are you lying to me?”
“It’s not real. Jessica... I was just trying to make you jealous, okay? I was sneaking looks all night, have you not noticed at all?”
You don’t smile, despite your huge instinct to. Instead, you cross your arms, watching him drop his gaze straight to your boobs.
“Why would I notice, James?”
“Well, how did you notice Jessica looking a little like you, that she’s with me here?”
Fair point...
“Just...” You’re suddenly gripped by this crazy urge to just fuck him right here. You even regret telling him to zip back up. You could have just lifted your dress as he lowered his briefs and took out his cock. And just like that, you could have just fucked against the wall or something. You would have let him rip off your panties too. You just need his cock so badly! “Shut the fuck up!” You snap, grabbing him by his neck so he can lean in enough for you to be able to kiss him. And oh, you kiss him!
You don’t have to fight to dominate the kiss, surprisingly, because he lets you. He lets you bite his lip and almost draw blood, he lets you unzip his pants again and push down his unfit-for-a-wedding jacket, and most importantly, he lets you be his again, as pathetic as that might sound. You feel him emotionally, not just physically.
Without wasting more time, you drop to your knees, making sure only your dress and shoes touch the floor directly. You drag down his pants and briefs at the same time from your position, and he looks at you surprised.
“I thought we’re in public and you were fucking some-” his words die as you bring your tongue to the head of his cock, tasting the precum, but not sucking even a little bit.
“Weren’t you saying something?” You tuck your hair strands behind your ears as you mock him. You love being on your knees for Bucky. He has this dominant energy, but he always makes you feel in power even when he fuck your mouth. And you enjoy it, you feed on it. One of the reasons you missed him so much. And he can take mocking. “Please go on. I am all ears.” You breathe out on his dick. “And tongue.”
“Oh god,” Bucky’s voice is a moan at this point, and you laugh. So easy...
“I’m your god now? Aww! Come on, do I have to do everything tonight?”
He looks down at you confused. His blue eyes are almost grey, and you know he’s on cloud nine already just because you’re there.
“What?”
“Oh, you need translation. Well,” it’s all you say before wrapping your lips around his dick and using both of your hands to push him as deep as he can go inside your mouth. He moans at the same time you gag, and his balls slap you in the face. He instinctively looks at you to ask if you’re okay, but you are more than okay. You are fucking alive. You encourage him to fuck your throat at this point by squeezing his ass cheeks and touching his balls.
“God, look at you! That pretty black dress…” He pulls out and back in not as forcefully as he can, but enough to make you start tearing up quickly. “On your knees for your man. That mouth!”
You find yourself moaning at the feel of his fingers grasping and tugging at your hair. Jesus, how you missed this...
“You have the sweetest mouth.” Does he even realize what he’s mumbling? “I could die right here. Right now,” he says and thrusts harder, which makes you close your eyes. You can barely see anything because of the tears, and he’s already close. “My pretty baby, my fucking girl.”
You’re getting wetter and wetter the more he talks, and it’s crazy. You’re cold and your jaw is hurting, yet you love this.
“Not caring if someone can catch us, just making sure you mark me again. God, I'm gonna come, baby. Gonna... should I p-pull-”
You don’t let him finish his sentence as you grab his ass to make sure you keep him there, in your throat, as he comes while moaning your name.
When he finishes, he immediately helps you stand up, before he kisses you desperately, his tongue immediately licking your bottom lip to get access. He lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist tightly. You moan in the middle of the kiss because his semi-hard cock is right where you need it, and it’s like torture...
“Need to taste you, okay, baby?” He asks with so much need in his voice. He sounds so whipped. “Need my pussy. Can I take you to my room?”
That is perfect, a dream at this point. But you need to make him a little more desperate.
“But the wedding… They would kill us.”
“I am sure you care sooooo much about this wedding and Nat’s stories. More than about getting my tongue on that pretty clit of yours and making you come all over my face.”
You can’t hold back your laughter.
“Fair point, Mr. Barnes. I deserve my orgasms, especially after listening to you pathetically trying to seduce me by admitting how desperate you are.”
“You dropped to your knees on this balcony just to mark my cock as yours.”
You pull his hair a little. “You said it yourself, it's already mine. Now get that ugly jacket and carry me.”
Bucky snorts, kissing your cheek. “You bought me that ugly jacket.”
“I know.”
*
You don’t know where you left your phone and even though you should feel panicked, you don’t. All you can focus on is Bucky taking off your dress and groaning at the sight of your cups. You couldn’t wear a full bra, so you improvised. They could barely hold your breasts, but no nipples showing? Win.
“Hurry up!”
“Jesus,” he moans and reaches for your cups. Desperate man... you roll your eyes, but let him uncover your breasts and grab them into his hands eagerly. He’s not just holding them, he looks and touches them as if he’s never seen boobs in his entire life, let alone yours.
“James...” You sigh, throwing your head back in pleasure when he finally gets your nipple into his mouth. Your hand finds his hair instantly, and you watch him suck happily while playing with your other nipple.
“You’re quite hungry,” you say with a smile, stroking his hair. You missed this so much. His need to always touch or sleep on your boobs, the way he grabs them while he’s pounding you... You shiver in anticipation when he switches to the other tit.
“Fucking shit, I missed them so much.”
You snort. “My boobs?”
“Mine.” He’s not sucking anymore, he’s eating them, shocking you.
“H-hold on a second, Bucky. They’re breasts, not my clit.”
“It’s been a year, love. Let me get my fill. I died without them. Died!”
As much as you wanted to think only about the part he missed your boobs, you can’t help the jealousy that clouds your mind. You were divorced, yet the image of him sucking someone else’s tits makes you want to hit a wall. Mia all over him... You pull his hair angrily. “You surely had other tits in your mouth, Bucky, for the past year. Don’t pretend this is any different.”
He immediately stops sucking. “You... you can’t believe this. Tell me you don’t believe this.”
You look away, too proud to face him. “What am I supposed to believe, huh? It’s been one fucking year.”
“I’ve been yours this whole year. I’ve been thinking about you, fucking my fist while watching... our videos, as fucked up as it might be. I tried to date, but I failed, and trust me, it has nothing to do with the size of my dick and my age. No one is you. No one smells like you or talks like you. No one is my brat with the god complex.”
“God complex?” You raise your eyebrow, keeping your face straight. “Fuck you.”
“I will fuck it out of you as I usually do, don’t worry.”
“Then why does it keep coming back?”
He chuckles. “Because you want to get fucked all the goddamn time.”
“Like you don’t!” You puff. “Come on, I breathe in your direction and you get hard, Bucky.”
“Did you see yourself? Did you have sex with yourself? You cannot judge me!” He grabs your breasts again. “There is no comparison, okay? You have no rival. Never did, never will.”
“That’s all?” You puff, amused. “My looks?”
“Do I even have to say… Your god complex exists for a fucking reason. You’re the smartest, most sarcastic, and feistiest person I’ll ever meet. One mocking comment, and you know how I get.”
“Pathetic?” You mock him on purpose just to get the reaction he is talking about. You love it when he compliments you.
“Is this why you divorced me? Cause I am a pathetic son of a bitch?”
You take a deep breath. “I divorced you because you refused to communicate properly with me anymore, and you know it.”
“So not because of my small dick, either,” he remarks, making you roll your eyes.
“No, your small dick is one of the reasons I am here.”
Bucky dramatically touches his heart. “So you’re using me for my sex skills!”
“As if you don’t beg me to use you. Come on, put that mouth to good use before Nat comes after us.”
He doesn’t disappoint as he finally rips your underwear off, just like you fantasized about, and you use this as the perfect opportunity to fish for more.
“What happened, Jamie? So eager. Aren’t you a little good-”
The word boy comes out as a moan when you feel his index finger curled up inside you suddenly.
“What happened, honey? Too big for you?”
“Dick!”
“You’ll get that. I just need to erase the memories of having little pencils in here. That must have been traumatic.”
“You’re such a jerk!” You snort, but he’s right. It was really bad.
Bucky shrugs, finally kneeling properly between your legs before lifting them on his shoulders. God, yes!
“Gonna give my pussy some loving.”
“D-didn’t know you have a pussy, James.”
He smiles against your inner thigh. “I certainly keep what I lick.”
“Eww, what the fuck.”
He snorts, kissing your slit. “I am joking, baby. Tried to imitate one of those dicks you thought you could replace me with.”
Petty fucking bitch! You grab him by his hair and push him closer to your pussy.
“Shut the fuck up and eat!”
His tongue feels like heaven, indeed, on your clit. You’ve lost count of how many times you remembered him eating you out so you can come this year. He's just so good at eating your pussy.
You let out a satisfied sigh when he adds a second finger. You start to feel like before… like you and Bucky are still married and with no problem. Like you're happy. He makes you so happy. Made.
So you stare at his hair and stroke it as he sucks on your clit, completely squashed between your thighs, and try to hold back your tears.
When he adds his third finger and starts tracing eight figures on your clit with his tongue before he flattens it, you know you’re about to come.
There is something about the way he always manages to make you vulnerable even if it’s not intentional, to cut you open and get in... and you don’t want it to be over. You can’t let him go again after tonight. You’d suffocate.
Your efforts to delay your orgasm and not tear up are futile because when he sucks a little harder, you come and start sobbing somehow. The orgasm is strong and even though you’d want to watch Bucky, you close your eyes, letting yourself go, and shut your mind down for a second. Everything feels so overwhelming. So amplified…
You’re grateful he doesn’t stop fucking you with his fingers, either, even though you felt him hesitating when he heard you crying. You really needed this.
As soon as you finish, you drop your legs, furiously trying to wipe your face. He knows the difference between crying because of a crazy orgasm and you being emotional. He instantly gets back on the bed next to you and pulls you into the tightest hug you’ve had in two years.
“God, I’m...” You don’t know how to continue this phrase. You should not feel sorry for crying and you’re not pathetic for it. “I m-missed you so much, Bucky. Why did you give up?”
You feel his warm breath on your forehead. “I never gave up, baby, I swear.”
“B-but you did. You didn’t even try for more than six months. When I told you...” You take a deep breath. “That I want a divorce, you didn’t even look at me. Once, Bucky! Not even once…” You show him your index finger. “You simply agreed. You gave up on us. I was waiting for you to say: no, let’s try. No, I’ll communicate. Your words...” You sob. “Your words would have been enough for me. You should know that.”
“Oh my god, baby, please, breathe!” He kisses your forehead over and over again. “I never gave up, I swear. I wanted to say no, I wanted to tell you all of that, but you asked me for divorce. It felt like you wanted out. You were tired of fighting... you were tired of me. And I didn’t want to tell you to stay just so you could either stay with me out of pity or reject me. I would have died... To look at you and beg, and to see you detached.”
You shake your head into the crook of his neck. He cannot...
“How would I be detached if I tried for six months? How would I get tired of you?”
“Exactly. You tried for six months. I thought you snapped out of it...”
“Out of what?” You whisper, scared to say it louder, but he hears you anyway.
“Out of love.”
You immediately lift your head to look at him. He’s crying, too. “Bucky...” You bring your fingers to his cheeks and start to caress them.
“I just couldn’t remember us like this. I couldn’t look into your eyes and see you staring at me like I’m a stranger.”
“Jesus Christ, when did we fail to communicate this much?”
He knows you don’t expect an actual answer, so instead of speaking, he holds you, and kisses you, and makes you giggle.
The more you move into his lap, the better you feel his erection pressing against your pussy. So close, yet so far.
He groans, placing his hands on your hips. “Careful.”
“Well, I don’t want you to be careful. I want you to fuck me raw right now.”
“Right now? He snorts, using his position to his advantage and moving. And just like that, you’re suddenly pressed with your back against the bed, and his mouth covers the valley between your breasts. That didn’t take a lot of convincing.
“Did you fuck anyone else without protection?” You ask unsure how to formulate it without it sounding a little weird. You’re not even sure you want to know the answer if it’s positive, but still.
“No. Only condoms and well... to be honest more my fist,” he chuckles, helping you get on your back again by bringing a pillow under your head. “I tested myself, of course.”
You nod, trying to hide your happiness. You selfishly wanted this: no one but you to feel him without any barrier.
“Good.”
“What about you?”
“No one for me, either.”
You would laugh at his proud face if you didn’t know he might use it to tease you later. You can use it too, though.
“Come on, baby, spread your legs for me. Daddy’s home.”
You laugh surprised, but you do what he says. You really missed having him between your legs.
Needy, you reach for his T-shirt, that for some reason is still on, and you tug it down, showing him you want it off.
He hesitates for a couple of seconds too long before grabbing his T-shirt by the neck.
“Come on, what did you do? Got a tattoo?”
You get your answer as soon as he’s finally naked.
“Oh, God!” You instantly lift your hand so you can grab his necklace. “What the fuck, James...”
“I told you I never gave up on us.”
“So you’re telling me you’ve been keeping it on since we divorced?”
He blushes, looking away. “Yeah.”
“Even when you were with other girls?”
Your heart is racing.
“Never took it off.”
You giggle, touching the surface of the ring over and over again.
“No wonder why nothing worked.”
“I had no intention to make it work.”
You say nothing, just looking into his eyes and letting him see how fucking much you love him, how he could never be a stranger, and you kiss him, wrapping your legs around his ass to show him what you need.
“I want you to pound me, okay? I want to feel you for days, do you hear me? I am so wet and ready. Please, just fuck me!”
You shiver a little when you feel the back of his hand brushing against your clit while he brings his cock to your entrance.
“Gonna make you mine again, alright? Gonna make you forget this year and everyone who,” He finally thrusts inside you. “Tried to get you.”
He’s thick. Really thick, and you can’t believe how you managed to survive without this stretched-out feeling for a whole fucking year.
“I hate you so much!’
He snorts. “I am pretty sure you love me. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have my cock inside you after one year.”
“This is the problem!” You hiss when he pulls almost completely out. “One year, Bucky!”
“Aww!” He says a bit mockingly before thrusting all the way in again. Oh my God... you close your eyes. “Is this your bratty way of telling me you missed my small dick?”
“Bratty? You think this is bratty?” You ask him sarcastically before bringing a hand to his ass. “Harder!”
“Harder, huh?” He quickly unwraps your legs and turns you on your belly before you can react.
You gasp, shocked by how fast he is and hating the emptiness, but he ignores it, bringing a pillow under your pussy.
“Ass in the air, come on.”
You comply immediately, staring at his face from the side. He looks like he’s on a mission, with his hair already in all directions and the wedding band hanging around his neck.
The first thing you feel is his mouth on your ass cheek, licking on a spot before biting.
You hiss. “James!” It hurts, not more than a spanking, but you weren’t ready for that.
“Mine.”
You snort, wiggling your ass. “Yeah, yeah. Now gimme my cock.”
And he does. He so does, he’s not slowly entering you, no. He pushes in almost fully with only one thrust, making you bite into your pillow.
“You missed that, didn’t you? The way I fill you up is so good. The way...” He slaps your ass. “No one can make you feel so good. No one can fuck you like the desperate whore you are for my cock.”
You moan loudly into the pillow. You love being called a whore like this. Because he is right and he is obsessed with it, anyway. “B-Bucky...”
“Tell me whose cock you love? Tell me.”
He’s thrusting so fast at this point that you can barely even hear him.
“Bucky.”
“No, no, no. That is not what you call me like this.”
“James...”
He suddenly stops thrusting, and you whine, lifting your spinning head to look at him over your shoulder. No matter how much you try to tilt your hips to make him move, you fail.
“If you want to get fucked, baby, you gotta call me the right-”
“Daddy. Daddy, daddy. Happy now?”
He rolls his eyes, obviously not that happy with your tone.
You smirk.
“I see you need a lot of battiness fucked out of you.”
“Then why are you not fucking me, daddy?”
“Oh, goddamn it!” He’s not holding back now, moving like he used to. “Tell me, baby. Tell me you love me... that no one, fuck- no one is like me!”
His voice tinges with a hint of neediness... maybe even urge. His vulnerability takes you a little aback because it’s stronger than his mocking. He’s genuinely seeking for reassurance as he gazes at you with a mixture of desire, desperation and longing. He’s searching for validation in your eyes the way you were earlier, so you give it to him.
“You’re the only one for me, J-James. I love you forever. I never... I n-never stopped!” You can’t keep your head up a second longer as you drop it on your pillow, moaning.
“We’re getting married tomorrow.”
You half-snort, half-moan. “W-we can’t.”
“We can.” The sound of his balls slapping against your pussy almost covers the sound of his voice.
“We... we have to apply first.”
He spanks your ass again, and you scream, the sudden pain making you feel so good.
“So wet for me. They stood no chance. T-they don’t know how hard you want it.”
“Daddy, please... Please!” You’re a moaning mess. You just need a little harder. Just a little.
You’re not sure if you’re gonna have a voice after this. He’s pounding you so hard.
“My good, good girl.” He’s squeezing your hips, and the sound of your skin slapping is echoing. “God, gonna come for me? Jesus, wanna fill you up with my come too. Please, baby.”
You don’t know when or how he manages to do it, but he sneaks one of his hands under your body and pinches your nipple. You gasp, the wave of pleasure hitting you as he keeps fucking you. You feel your body weakening when he says your name over andl over again, but you don’t open your eyes for a while, letting him fuck you desperately while playing with your breast.
“Gonna- fuck, take my come, wife! Take me!”
He’s coming so much... surprisingly much even for him. You can feel him dripping down your thighs even when he slows down, then stops his movements before he falls on top of you as soon as he finishes.
“James...” You groan. “You’re heavy.”
He places a small kiss on your back, and you giggle.
“I love you.”
You melt, but he moves to the side before you can reach for his cheeks.
“I love you, too.” You kiss him. “So much that I let you drag me out of my best friend’s wedding reception.”
Bucky snorts, brushing his nose against your face. “Pretend all you want, I know you were bored as fuck.” You feel him slowly pulling out of you, and you whine. It’s a little uncomfortable. “Sorry, wifey.”
“I’m not your wife yet.”
“Yet, but you were and you will be again this week.” He takes your ring finger into his mouth.
“Bucky!”
“What? We need new rings.”
You try to pull out your finger. “No, we don’t. I have mine.”
“We need...”
“How about we use all that money for a vacation instead?”
“Neah, honeymoon is honeymoon.”
He finally lets your finger go. “We are not buying other wedding bands.”
“I am not debating a new engagement ring, though.”
You roll your eyes, but you know it’s the best deal you can get.
“Fine, a new engagement ring,” you agree while rolling ro his side and placing your head on his chest. “I don’t wanna move.”
“Don’t want to or can’t?”
You decide to surprise him by biting a spot right above his nipple. He groans while you simply laugh.
“You just can’t be subtle, can you?”
“If you’d wanted subtle you’d have gone for someone like Steve.”
“Eww, Bucky. I have your come dripping out of me and you bring up Steve?”
“You literally talked about Nat a sec ago.”
Then, as if a switch was flipped, your eyes widen. “Oh shit, my phone!”
“Where did you forget it?” Bucky asks casually, so used to gathering your things for you. You really missed that, too.
“Table. God... Do you think they know?”
“Know what?” He giggles, raising both of you until your backs touch the headboard. “That you dropped on your knees in the middle of the wedding to suck my cock? Or how I fucked you raw until you cried.” A sudden realization crosses his face. “You asked me to fuck you raw. Are you... still on the pills?”
You roll your eyes. “You think I’d let you fuck me like this for the first time we talked to each other properly since we divorced if there was a big chance to get pregnant?”
“I assume you are still on the pills, don’t be patronizing!” He kisses your nose, which he knows tickles you.
Ass...
“You are asking a dumb question instead of getting your ass downstairs to bring me my phone.”
“How is that dumb? I wanted to know if I should get you a pill or something.”
“So you don’t want babies with me!” You try not to laugh as you say it, biting your lip to keep your face serious.
“Why do you act as if I told you I don’t want a baby with you?” He chuckles when he sees you pouting. “We’re just getting back together and no way you’d want a baby now. But if I am wrong, let’s go for it. I can give you a baby, just get off the pills.”
“You don’t give me a baby, James. We have a baby together!”
He sighs, getting off the bed to get his clothes back on. “Obviously, but I am the one coming inside you. This is what I meant. I am all in. But we need some adapting time at least.”
You should stop this whole teasing-testing thing. You both have the same opinion after all. You might have a baby, and you know he’d be involved one hundred percent, but not now. Absolutely not.
“I know. Thanks for asking.”
“You’re such a tease.” He snorts, putting on his pants. “Before I go, do you want me to run you a bath or should I bring you a towel?”
“Do you plan on staying there?”
He turns his head to you instantly. “Yeah, sure. I am gonna eat some steak and brag about fucking my wife.”
“Alright, alright. Bring me a snack and we can take a bath together. Actually,” you think about it better. “I’m gonna clean up and wait for you.”
“You want me to fuck you again, don’t you?” He asks as he fixes his jacket.
“Why? Is this all you could give me?”
“Oh, fuck you!”
“Sure.” You spread your legs at the same time you grab your own breasts, making him groan. It’s so easy to get to him. And it’s hilarious.
“Jesus, you’re planning to kill me.”
“Not you acting as if it’s the first time this happened.”
“It is the first time in over a year, baby.”
You feel yourself softening again. “True. Now, please, please, please, don’t give them any details and bring me a snack.”
“What snack?”
“Anything, make me a plate, I don’t care.” He nods before reaching for the keys. “Oh, and Bucky? Tell your flavor of the month you don’t need her anymore.”
“I told you she is not-”
“And tell Nat I’ll make it up to her!” You interrupt him before he can finish his sentence. You don’t need him to defend a random girl’s honor.
“You’re so jealous.”
“Lock the door!”
You giggle satisfied when he closes the door and let yourself scream out of happiness while staring at the bite he left on your ring finger. Mrs. Barnes never got out of style.
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfic#ex-husband!bucky barnes#divorced!bucky barnes#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes fluf#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#marvel fanfic#marvel fanfiction#my fanfics#my stories
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Holiday Season
pairing. obsessed 141 / polar bear-hybrid reader *scenario/headcanons
note. gender neutral reader. reader is physically described to be 6ft or over. common hybrid features such as animal ears, tail, nose, claws, and paw pads.
cw. unhealthy relationships/yandere themes, meat and blood mentions, a lot of eating from hands mentions, a weird type of infantilization, big bad bear is called cute a stupid amount of times, dangerous but passive reader, vague made-up base because i watch too many movies.
Holed up in the middle of fucking nowhere, Alaska, the white wasteland. That's how the 141 were going to spend the merry month of December. Endless snow in sight and no family to be found. A complete and utter joke of a holiday season.
It scarcely matters, the food that's been stored, the dense furniture they've been given, even the solace they find in each other. It's miserable out here. The freeze is always licking at their skin, seeping through their layered clothes to cling to the exposed nape. It's their constant company.
Yet, something else bothers them. A hint that only their trained eyes could catch in their misery. An entity, perhaps, something that follows the men without rest. It's a shadow of winter, blanketing itself around the base and leaving its warmth with no trace to its next destination. Only something another human could pull off.
Dishes left strewn on the counter are returned to their cupboards, clean and scrubbed. Leftovers are consistently missing a bite more than what Soap remembers wolfing the night before. If a blanket or pillow goes missing, best bet it doesn't come back. It doesn't take much convincing for Price to round up his boys to find out the root of their question. Not when they've nothing else to do.
It's Soap who finds you first. Rummaging through the fridge with a plastic container in your hands, that adorable black nose covered in spaghetti sauce. He wonders how they didn't hear you sooner with the way you carelessly scarf down the contents. You remind him a little of himself...
Little round ears perk up at the sound of his gasp. Soap freezes in place as your head cranes back to inspect him. Eyes staring at him with indifference, a lone noodle stuck to your cheek and tomato red staining your considerably large teeth. Sharp and big, enough to poke out from your mouth and dig into your chapped bottom lip. A similarly large grayish-blue tongue swipes out to clean the damning evidence.
So. Fucking. Cute.
Johnny is thanking the names of every God he knows when you let him lead you by hand to his team. A new warmth flows through his body, lighting up his dormant nerves in the winter night, your thick black claws prodding into his rough skin. You must be a docile ol' thing, obediently following him to his buddies, though only after he bribes you with more meals to come. He'll cook up the whole damn kitchen if it means you trail him like this daily.
Ghost is sure that Johnny's the one hiding furry ears and a tail when he rushes over like a dog with a fresh new bone. That, and he's more crazy than he imagined dragging over what looks to be a six foot something polar bear hybrid right his way. Ghost doesn't forget things easily, and he's confident that said bears are known to be the most eager predators in the presence of flesh. Not just by circumstance, no, by nature.
A strange thought does pop up in head. That fluffy white tail you sport catches his eye for longer than he'd like to admit. He wonders. If he offered up a nice, raw chunk of seal to you, would it wag in anticipation? Would your ears twitch at the sounds of his boots crunching in the snow, bringing you yet another delicious catch? He could be the perfect provider for you, he thinks. Maybe even have you hunt alongside him, a bonding ritual of sorts. Blood all over your mouth, allowing only Simon to dab away at your chin with a towel. What a sight to behold. Two predators in the same room.
Gaz takes a step away before doing the exact opposite a minute later. You're not just some wild animal, and he's half worried he just disrespected you to your face (you didn't see it). Any bit of nervousness he had melts away when you gently push your nose into his warm hands. He was going for a handshake, but this is surprisingly preferred. Seems he missed wiping some the cocoa from a recent pot of hot chocolate. He hadn't expected you to be so... soft. If you want more, he's got a heap of cookies hidden away in his room. No issue with you visiting him for a late night snack. Christ, he'll even handfeed you if you're feeling lazy, no worries.
Captain Price nearly drops the flimsy cup of coffee held in his gloved hands. Fucking giant thing you are. He nearly drops it again when your nose takes a sharp turn to the smell of his beverage. Not picky, are you... He'll keep note of that for later. From the looks of it, you're adapting well to the chaos of his batch, sniffing and patiently waiting for Soap to release you from his iron grip on your paw pad. He also takes note of what your wearing almost immediately, Arctic grade parka wrapped around your waist in favor of standard workwear, more akin to a jumpsuit than winter gear. Unbelievable. However, that does explain it now. You work here.
It makes sense, considering you're one of the more volatile hybrids. So many people, including your bosses, are uneasy about the predators. It must've been particularly bad for you. Hiding you away in a big and lonely base to eat dinner at an empty table. The world unable to appreciate you for what you are.
Price on the other hand, he knows his boys like the back of his hand. They understand your type. Would take you in without judgement or fear. Indulge you. Feed you fat red meat from calloused palms and let you lap at the warm blood still dripping on the snow. Gladly clean the droplets that stain your pure white parka. Make you warm.
#btw i genuinely love winter. it is literally the only season that makes me happy. fuck you summer (is born in july)#mine#yandere#yandere cod
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skz + s/o with long nails
can't sleep and i need to get this thought out before it makes my head explode
MDNI (18+) suggestive ideas, mutual masterbation, oral, nail markings
skz x gn!reader
chan: at first he's indifferent. it makes no difference to him, you might've kept short or no nails to start with while dating him. it isn't till you try out a new spot that leaves you with the best set you've ever had, that he starts to take more notice. especially when his back scratches take a whole new level. he's twitching his leg like a dog when you go too light on him finding it ticklish, he's begging you to scratch him harder. his mind starts to run wild at the thought how it would feel to have your nails clawing at his back during sex as he pounds into you.
minho: he loves your nails. he finds them so cute on you, especially when their pointed like a cat claw. he's not one to comment his thoughts on what you should do but he loves the way your hands look with baby pinks or milk white shades. his cats seem to enjoy them as much as you do when they surround you begging to be scratched next. he really finds out how much he loves them when you're going down on him as his thank you for paying for the new set, when you're clawing down on his thighs. he can't help admire how pretty they look while you sit perched between his thighs as stroke him into your mouth.
changbin: he loves everything about you but the nails he just doesn't quite get. how are you supposed to lift weights when you can't even close your hand into a fist :( ? nevertheless he pampers his partner!! so of course he's putting his card down for you to pay for your new set or sending you the money to pay for them (then some more incase it's a long session and you need to grab food). he's a changed man when he sees the new set. your nail tech found a cute way to put his intials on the ring fingers of your nails. he's posting and sending everyone a photo of your nail set with your hands wrapped around his bicep. he knows that all you need is a ring to complete it.
hyunjin: love love love LOVES your nails. everytime there's an appointment coming up soon, he's already asking what you're getting. he'll send you some ideas, a lot of it might be douyin style but he loves anything you decide on. aside from loving the way they look, he also loves the way they feel. his insta photos might be filled with your hands in shot with coffee or selfies he's taken while's you held his face or gave his cheeks a squish. either way he knows that you know when he plops down into your lap or chest, he's demanding head and back scratches. he's purring like a cat in your lap with every movement but will immediately whine if you stop too soon.
jisung: don't care as long you're dedicating an hour or two to play with his hair after a fresh set. colors make no difference to him but he gets weak in the knees when you come home with red nails. his mind taking him to filth places of having your hand stroking him, how pretty your hands look in with his cum painting your nails. he's always offering to pay for your nails, on the condition that you always do red which you're typically happy to oblige anyways.
felix: there has to be something based in fact for me to confidently say he also more than happy to have you scratch his head, back, anywhere that you possibly feel he might enjoy because he is actually a cat. a very cuddly one that's purring with every scratch across his skin. he loves the set ideas you come up with but especially loves when you incorporate hints of blue in your nails because you know it's his signature color. makes him feel like it's proof that you belong to him in a way that only he needs to know. his only thing to pick at is you can't be as handsy with baking with him when you have longer nails :/ buts that's okay when you make it up by playing with his hair, putting it in pretty braids and giving him neck & chin scratches.
seungmin: also someone who seems in different. he might get annoyed every time you accidentally poke him too hard from a new set. he'd tease you for the way your nails sound while you type but it's all in good fun. another one who's twitching his leg like a puppy every time you scratch his back or head. oh how he could lay like that forever. another one to soft launch you on his insta with shot of your hand on his knee at a baseball game or intertwined while having a romantic dinner. he once again doesn't mind and even learns to appreciate the way your nails rake through his hair. how they feel when your trying pry him out from between your thighs tugging on his hair for dear life.
jeongin: he loves your long nails, he loves it even more when you take him with you to get your nails done together. he's not passing on opportunity to get matching manicures. he loves to see you venture off with colors. when you opt to get a forrest green french tip set, he's right there asking for his pinky nails to be painted in the same green polish. he's posting a picture of your intertwined hands with your matching polish. he's down bad for you and everyone knows it. you can't blame him when you're the same for him. it's all he thinks about when you're both laid next to each other in bed with his hand in your underwear and your hand wrapped around him stroking him so prettily, toying with one another and matching polish adorning your hands.
#skz smut#skz imagines#skz scenarios#skz hard thoughts#skz x you#stray kids fanfic#stray kids smut#hyunjin x reader#jeongin x reader#bang chan x reader#changbin x reader#lee know x reader#jisung x reader#felix x reader#seungmin x reader#skz headcanons#skz fluff#hyunybunnythoughts#felix hard thoughts#hyunjin hard thoughts#lee know hard thoughts#seungmin hard thoughts#bang chan hard thoughts#jisung hard thoughts#jeongin hard thoughts#changbin hard thoughts
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Top 5 Reasons Why Barking Blends is Your Dog's Ticket to Fresh, Healthy Eating
Welcome to Barking Blends
Are you searching for the best way to provide your furry friend with fresh, healthy meals? Look no further than Barking Blends! Our mission is to revolutionize the way dogs eat by offering delicious, nutritious meals made with high-quality ingredients Buy fresh healthy dog food.
Reason 1: High-Quality Ingredients
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We believe in supporting local farmers and businesses while also promoting sustainability. By using locally sourced ingredients, we reduce our carbon footprint and support our community.
Nutritionally balanced recipes
Our team of canine nutrition experts works tirelessly to create recipes that are not only delicious but also nutritionally balanced. Whether your dog prefers chicken, beef, or fish, we have a blend that will suit their taste buds and dietary needs.
Reason 2: Tailored to Your Dog's Needs
Every dog is unique, which is why we offer a variety of recipes to suit different dietary requirements. Whether your dog has allergies, sensitivities, or specific preferences, we have a blend that's perfect for them. Plus, our customizable options allow you to tailor your dog's meals to their individual needs.
Various recipes for different dietary requirements
From grain-free options to recipes specifically designed for senior dogs, we have something for every pup. Our extensive menu ensures that your dog will never get bored with their meals and will always look forward to dinner time.
Customizable options
In addition to our pre-made blends, we offer customizable options for pet parents who want complete control over their dog's diet. Choose your dog's protein, veggies, and supplements to create a personalized meal plan that meets their unique needs.
Reason 3: Freshness Guaranteed
At Barking Blends, we believe that fresh is best. That's why we make all of our meals to order using only the freshest ingredients available. Our meals are then frozen to lock in nutrients and preserve freshness until mealtime.
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Unlike traditional dog food, which can sit on store shelves for months, our meals are made fresh every time. This ensures that your dog gets the maximum nutritional value from their food and avoids harmful preservatives and additives.
Frozen for optimal freshness
By freezing our meals, we can preserve their freshness without the need for artificial preservatives. Simply thaw and serve for a delicious and nutritious meal that your dog will love.
Reason 4: Promotes Health and Wellness
A healthy diet is essential for your dog's overall well-being, and Barking Blends is committed to promoting health and wellness through our nutritious meals. Our recipes are designed to support digestion, boost energy levels, and enhance your dog's overall quality of life.
Improved digestion
Many dogs suffer from digestive issues caused by poor diet or food sensitivities. Our meals are formulated to be easily digestible, making them ideal for dogs with sensitive stomachs or digestive issues.
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Proper nutrition is key to maintaining your dog's energy levels and vitality. Our recipes are packed with essential vitamins, minerals, and nutrients to keep your dog feeling happy, healthy, and full of energy.
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We know that life can be busy, which is why we've made feeding your dog as convenient as possible. With our subscription options and home delivery service, you can ensure that your dog always has fresh, healthy meals on hand.
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Never worry about running out of dog food again with our convenient subscription service. Simply choose your dog's favorite blends, select your delivery frequency, and we'll take care of the rest.
Delivery straight to your door
Forget about lugging heavy bags of dog food home from the store. With Barking Blends, your dog's meals are delivered straight to your door, saving you time and hassle.
Conclusion
In conclusion, Barking Blends is the ultimate solution for pet parents who want to provide their dogs with fresh, healthy meals. From our high-quality ingredients to our customizable options and convenient delivery service, we make feeding your dog easy and enjoyable. Try Barking Blends today and see the difference it can make in your dog's life!
FAQs
Can I customize my dog's meals with Barking Blends? Yes, we offer customizable options that allow you to tailor your dog's meals to their individual needs and preferences.
How often will my dog's meals be delivered? You can choose your preferred delivery frequency when setting up your subscription, ensuring that your dog always has fresh meals on hand.
Are Barking Blends meals suitable for dogs with allergies? Yes, we offer a variety of recipes to suit different dietary requirements, including options for dogs with allergies or sensitivities.
How long do Barking Blends meals stay fresh? Our meals are made fresh to order and frozen to lock in nutrients and preserve freshness until mealtime.
What if my dog doesn't like the meals? We offer a satisfaction guarantee, so if your dog doesn't love their meals, simply contact us for a refund or replacement.
#Best dog treat#Buy Best dog treat in India#best healthy dog treats#Buy fresh healthy dog food#best nutritional dog food in India
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How it works For your Dog - Yodoggo
INTRODUCE YOURDOGGO TO US
Fill in a short & simple form about your doggo, and we will create a tailored meal plan after that
CHOOSE YOUR
MONTHLY MEAL PLAN
Our meals are packed with 90% human grade meat, 10% vegetables, power seeds & antioxidants
Both options are available
1. Half-meal & 2. Full-meal
IT’S TASTY, IT’S HEALTHY & IT’S ALSO EASY
#healthy dog food#best fresh dog food company#premium diet dog food#100% human grade#gently cooked#fresh dog food company#fresh pet food company#best healthy pet food company
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Nutritious Pet Food Delivered Right to Your Door | Perfect Bowl
Are you tired of the same old pet food routine? Perfect Bowl is here to revolutionize the way you feed your furry friend! Our fresh pet food delivery service in Australia offers a range of healthy, grain-free recipes that cater to different dietary needs. Order now and give your pet the best!
#fresh pet food delivery#buy dog food online sydney#dog food home delivery near me#buy dog food online australia#dog food bowls#pet food delivered#best food for puppies sydney
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DogSpot Meals Fresh Dog Food Recipe Chicken, Rice, Vegetables Turmeric Formula, Wet Food for Medium Dogs Best Dealz For You
No added preservatives or chemicals. No refrigeration required. Slow steam cooking process, that helps sterilization of food
Human grade ingredients: Made with Chicken, Rice, Pumpkin, Carrot, Coconut Oil, Turmeric Extract & Water
Transparent & Honest Food: You can see, smell and even eat to check the ingredients yourself
Packed with superfood(s): Turmeric extracts, standardised to 60% curcuminoids (curcumin) and Coconut Oil
Recommended quantity and easy to serve: 75 g pouch is a complete meal for small dogs (up to five kg in weight, e.g., Chihuahua, Pomeranian, Miniature Pinscher etc.). One pouch = One meal. We recommend one pouch per meal and two meals a day. Refer feeding guide for more details
READ MORE....Best Deals online | Pet products, Clothing, health care products
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Unleash Freshness: The Pawsitively Essential Guide to Dog Food Storage!
Hey Tumblr Pet Pals! 🐾🌈
Your furry friend's health and happiness start with what's in their bowl, and that means having the best dog food storage on the block! 🍲✨ In our latest post, we're diving into the world of kibble-keeping with the "12 Best Dog Food Storage Bins: Keep Your Pet's Food Fresh."
From airtight wonders to chic containers, we've fetched the top picks that combine functionality and flair. 🏡💖 But it's not just about style – discover why proper storage is crucial for preserving nutrients, preventing staleness, and even saving you some bones in the long run!
Curious about the best way to keep your pup's kibble fresh and fabulous? Click the link below and let's embark on a journey to paw-some mealtime moments! 🐶🍽️
#BestDogFoodStorage #PetParents #TumblrPets #HealthyPups #DogFoodie 🐾🌟
#dog lover#dog food storage#dog food#dogs of tumblr#best dog food storage#DogFoodie#PetParents#TumblrPets#HealthyPups#dog food fresh#united states#usa dog lover
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