#Enhancing Bathroom Luxury | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

decembermidnight · 7 months

Text

Nylon Lust

Summary: Joel goes feral when you wear pantyhose for him.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Word count: 2k

Warnings: smut, 18+ MDNI, nylon and pantyhose fetish, dom!Joel, sub!reader, teasing, dry humping, fingering, dirty talk, implied age gap, unprotected sex, humiliation kink, cumplay

Masterlist - Read on Ao3

You're honestly amazed at the way you look as you stare speechless at your reflection in the mirror. The thin, sheer material of the black pantyhose shapes your curves in a sensual, breathtaking way. You admire your body thinking you've never worn anything so luxurious and provocative in your whole life. You truly feel like a goddess.

The fabric is sheer and you can see everything underneath, your features enhanced in just the right places. Your legs, hips and belly are smooth and silky to the touch, making you appear flawless. You must admit Joel has a damn good eye for nice, refined things.

There's a thick, black line that runs exactly in the middle of the pantyhose, highlighting the attention right there, to your cunt.

You're suddenly reminded of his words… “Wear it. Now. Nothing else on.”

His voice was almost a growl, his dark eyes looking at you like a beast waiting to devour its prey. The mere thought makes you throb in anticipation, thinking of his reaction when he’ll see you in just a few moments.

You head out of the bathroom and find Joel sitting on the sofa right in front of you, a smirk appearing on his face as he looks at you approaching him.

“Fuck” he grunts.

“What do you think?” you ask flirtatiously as your hands caress your hips. He looks hypnotized as he follows the movement with his eyes.

He doesn’t even answer - his gaze is locked on your lower body, bewitched by the way you look. He stands up and pulls you close, starting to run his hands on your hips, feeling the silky material under his fingers, admiring the way it hugs your curves, humming in pleasure.

“Lookin’ so good, baby” he whispers before kissing you passionately as he goes on worshiping your body with his touch, holding and squeezing you, rejoicing in how sexy you look. Your naked chest rubs against his jeans shirt as the kiss deepens and you start to feel his erection against your lower belly. He guides you towards the kitchen table as your tongues twirl and lick into each other's mouths. Your hands dig in his messy hair as his, in turn, can’t stop caressing the soft, naked skin of your back and groping your butt.

Just as you bump into the table behind you, he grabs the thin fabric of the pantyhose and pulls it up so the thick black line right in the middle digs into your pussy, stimulating your clit and highlighting your lips, earning an aroused gasp from you.

"Look at that." says as he barely brushes them with his fingers, captivated by the view you're offering him.

In an instant he turns you around, bending you over on the table. Your upper body is laying down on the flat surface and you arch your lower back, standing on your tiptoes to make your ass look even fuller and prettier so that he'll want to touch it.

He gives in to lust immediately and starts squeezing your ass, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he hums in pleasure.

"Knew this would look fucking perfect on you." he lets out in a low voice, almost a growl, heavily aroused.

He lets his hand trail down to the back of your thighs, caressing them, making you shake in lust, impatient for him to touch you between your legs.

"Joel - Joel, please-" you plead, turning around just to see a sadistic smirk on his face.

His hand trails up your inner thigh painfully slowly and when he finally reaches your slit, he takes his hand away and you hear him jostle with his belt, unfastening it and unzipping his pants, making you whimper at the loss of contact.

"What is it that you want, hm? To be fucked like the whore that you are?" he rasps, his sensual voice giving you goosebumps.

"Yes, yes, please-" you pant, heavily aroused.

He takes his cock out and slaps your ass with it, making you feel how hard it is already, only to start stroking as his other hand gropes your butt.

"Fucking whore. Look at you. Begging for this cock. You missed it, hm?"

"Yes, I did..." you say sensually as you rub your ass against the erection in his hand.

He chokes a grunt at the way the thin, silky fabric feels against his cock. He grabs your hips tight, holding them against his, and starts dry humping your ass, lowering his body on yours and using it to give himself pleasure, taking what he wants from you without ceremony, his heady groans right in your ear, driving you insane, aching with desire, begging for release.

His fingers start to finally touch your clit after all this sadistic teasing and he hums when he feels how wet you made the pantyhose.

“You made it so wet already. Damn, I haven't even touched you yet.” he coos in your ear.

You squeeze your eyes shut in bliss when he increases the rhythm, starting to rub it frantically. The feeling of the nylon between his fingers and your swollen clit somehow intensifies the pleasure - the silky, drenched fabric acts as a thin barrier, increasing friction and getting you embarrassingly close to the edge already.

"Fuckin' perfect" he pants in your ear as his fingers drive you closer and closer to your orgasm.

"Joel, you're gonna make me come-" you cry, your legs shaking uncontrollably in anticipation.

"Come. Let me feel how wet you can get it." he whispers in between heady moans, his fingers accelerate the rhythm even more, your breathing gets laboured, his panting is hot in your ear as he keeps rubbing his cock against your ass and encourages you to let go, muttering filth about how good you look like this, about how much he wants you. The sound of his voice, sweet and dark at the same time, gets you over the edge and you come - a white, hot blaze sparks between your legs and spreads throughout your body, making you shake in pleasure under him as you drawl his name against the hard, cold wood of the table, his fingers guiding you through your high.

"Yeah. Good girl." he pants in your ear as his hands spread your legs further open so that his fingers can tear a hole in your pantyhose just where your cunt is. You can't believe how incredibly hot you find it. He lets his dick slide in the hole he just made and starts rubbing it between your slit and the nylon, pleasurably stimulating your clit while he does so, driving you both fucking insane.

"Fuck, Joel, please, please put it in. I need it." you plead in between moans, hands clenching into fists due to impatience.

"You whore. Can't wait to be fucked, are you? Why don't you beg harder?" you can hear by the sound of his husky voice that he's getting off at the feeling of his cock rubbing against the hot slickness of your cunt and the wet, silky material of the pantyhose, so tight and thin around his cock, giving it just the perfect stimulation, all while hearing you beg for him.

"Please, please Joel. I need you inside me. I will do fucking anything. Anything." you whimper deliriously.

“Anything? Are you that desperate for this cock?” he taunts you.

Joel's fingers dig deeper into your hip to keep you steady as he aligns his cock with your entrance and immediately starts to sink inside of you. He sighs when he feels how welcoming and ready you are for him. You can't do anything besides taking him nice and slow, your eyes rolling up in pleasure as you moan obscenely loud.

His cock meets no resistance as your wet cunt sucks it in, clenching and spasming in turn at the sole idea of finally having him inside of you.

"Oh, fuck! Fuck, Joel!" you scream in delight.

Joel looks at the marvel of you, at his cock entering into you through the hole in your pantyhose, nylon wrapped tight around your ass.

"Fucking look at you. You like this, hm? You like being fucked in your ripped pantyhose like a whore?” he growls.

"I do! Yes!" you cry in bliss.

Joel goes absolutely feral when he sees how much you’re enjoying this, how the nylon feels in his hands, how obedient and yielding you are and you feel him twitching inside of you as he grunts in arousal.

Your moans and the filthy, squelching noise of your drenched cunt sucking him in fill the room as you turn around to look at him - his hands steady on your hips, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, showing off his strong, veiny forearms as he thrusts into you, his gaze locked on your pussy. You bite your lip and hum in delight at that view.

“How much do you like looking at me fucking you, hm? I can feel you getting wetter. And tighter. Not gonna last if you keep looking at me like that.”

You hum again when you hear the way you’re making him feel straight from his lips.

“Harder, please.” you whisper as you give him a look full of lust and desire, a sensual smirk on your face.

He grabs your hair in his grasp and starts railing you hard, just like you asked, making your eyes roll up and mouth part in ecstasy.

The way his shaft is rubbing against your clit is driving you close to another orgasm. He notices the way you get tighter around him when you’re right on the edge, your grasp making him grunt viciously.

“Joel! Joel! I’m gonna come!”

“Yes. Come on this cock, baby. Look at me. Fuckin’ look at me giving it to you.”

His words push you over the edge once more and you can feel how tight you get around him as you come, clamping so hard it’s unavoidable for you to scream his name as waves of pleasure traverse your body, making your eyes roll up high, blurring your vision, a feeling so intense that you can’t control yourself.

Joel grunts when he feels your cunt erratically spasming around his cock, restraining himself from bursting inside of you immediately. He’s not done with you, not yet.

"Turn the fuck around. Turn around now." he growls impatiently before grabbing you by the waist, turning you around and slamming you back on the table.

"On your fucking elbows. Look at my cock fucking your hot pussy. Look at it." he orders.

You prop yourself up and start playing with your nipples while your eyes are trained on his thick cock jackhammering into you as Joel's hands keep your legs spread wide open for him.

"Shit, such a slut. You’re making me come. This pussy is so fucking perfect, darlin'. Don't stop looking. Don't stop looking."

He slips out of your cunt and starts grinding his cock between your slit and the nylon, pleasurably rubbing the shaft against your clit. Seeing how much he's enjoying it and the perfect rhythm of his thrusts makes you moan loudly begging for more, making your heart beat faster as that perfect stimulation drives you close to another orgasm.

"Shit - shit - shit, I'm fucking coming baby-"

He snarls as his cock twitches and spurts out his white, hot release, staining both the black pantyhose and your belly. Joel's moans and that unbelievably hot sight drive you over the edge and come right after him, keeping your eyes on his cock spurting his cum out, making a mess, covering you in his release as you both moan loudly.

Joel lowers himself on you and gives you a hot, wet kiss, his tongue greedily exploring your mouth as you both come down from your high, heavily panting into each other’s mouths.

"Fucking look at you. Filthy, shameless and covered in cum just like the whore that you are." he says while tracing the outline of his cock with his fingers and spreading his seed all over your belly, pussy and thighs, amazed at how the nylon glistens in the light now that it's drenched in both of your fluids.

1K notes · View notes

vanteguccir · 5 months

Text

── ୨୧ !　𝗩𝗢𝗚𝗨𝗘 𝗕𝗘𝗔𝗨𝗧𝗬 𝗦𝗘𝗖𝗥𝗘𝗧𝗦

　　　　　　𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x famous!reader

SUMMARY: Where the world-famous actress and model, Y/N, is invited by Vogue to record a video of her Beauty Secrets, but during the recording, Chris, her boyfriend, decides to make a brief appearance.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: No.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The golden sun peeked through the silk curtains, illuminating Y/N's spacious marble bathroom. She was at home in her luxurious suite, ready to share her beauty secrets with the world.

A few days ago, Y/N was busy organizing her appointments when an email with the iconic Vogue logo caught her attention. With a mix of curiosity and anticipation, she opened the message to discover that Vogue was interested in featuring her in its exclusive beauty video series, Vogue Beauty Secrets.

The news filled her with excitement and pride. As one of the most in-demand models of the moment, walking on runways for renowned brands like Gucci and being a regular in the pages of Vogue itself, Y/N was already a familiar presence in the fashion industry. However, the invitation to share her beauty secrets with the Vogue audience represented an exciting opportunity to connect on an even deeper level with her fans and followers.

As Y/N prepared to start recording the video, she could hear the distant sound of laughter and the distinctive hum of video games coming from the next room. Her boyfriend, Chris, was immersed in one of his thousands of games, completely absorbed by the virtual world.

With a captivating smile, the girl waves to the camera with her left hand, starting the recording. Her long hair falls like a silken waterfall as she approaches the dressing table adorned with high-quality beauty products.

"Hi, guys! It's Y/N here." She greets enthusiastically, her smile stretching across her face as her right hand lifts slightly, showing the white mug full of fresh brewed coffee. "And I'm back on my favorite channel. Today is a very special day because I'm sharing my beauty secrets with you!"

With grace and elegance, Y/N begins her skincare routine, explaining each step in meticulous detail. She gently applies a gentle cleanser, massaging it into her skin in circular motions while commenting on the latest happenings in the fashion world.

"You know, being on the cover of Vogue for the fifth time is an honor." She shares casually. "But it's also a reminder of how much hard work and dedication it takes to get there. I remember when I was just a 10-year-old kid walking down the hallway at home in my mom's heels."

While applying a refreshing toner, Y/N describes how she likes to take care of her skin to keep it radiant and flawless, even under the relentless camera spotlight.

"It's all about consistency and finding what works for you." The girl advises gently, looking directly into the camera with confidence. "And never underestimate the power of drinking lots of water and getting enough sleep!"

With one fluid movement, Y/N moves on to the next step: makeup. She carefully selects her favorite products, explaining the reasoning behind each choice as she applies them with masterful skill.

"My makeup philosophy is simple: enhance natural beauty." She explains, delicately tracing her eyebrows with a pencil in the tone of her natural hair. "It’s all about enhancing, not transforming."

Y/N lowered her head slightly, her right hand hovering over her laid out products before her index finger and thumb fished out her Dior blush.

"This one is Dior Backstage Rosy Glow Blush. It's super beautiful and gives you, like, baby pink glow. I'm literally obsessed!" The girl opens the small packaging, momentarily showing the pink powder to the lens before applying it delicately to the apples of her cheeks with a white brush. "I used to use really heavy blush when I was in school." Y/N confesses, laughing. "My face looked like a paint palette! Chris said it also looked like I had sunbathed for hours without sunscreen. But over time, I learned the art of subtlety."

As she continued to expertly apply her makeup, focusing on the smooth strokes and precise touches, a noise at the bathroom door broke her focus. With a surprised sigh, she saw through the mirror her boyfriend entered the spacious room with a frustrated expression on his face.

"Fucking hell!" He grumbled under his breath, muttering curses as he ran a hand through his disheveled hair.

Y/N couldn't help but laugh softly at the sight of him, knowing he was dealing with another loss in his game against Nick and Matt.

"Having some trouble, babe?" She asked playfully, turning her face slightly towards him and giving him an amused look as she continued to apply her makeup.

Chris let out a heavy sigh and walked with quick steps toward her, looking over Y/N's shoulder to see what she was doing. His eyes widened in surprise as he noticed the strategically placed recording camera before turning towards his girl with raised eyebrows.

"Wow, wait!" The boy exclaimed, excitement clear in his voice. "Are you recording a video?"

Y/N nodded, smiling as she explained about Vogue's invitation and the opportunity to share her beauty secrets with the world, her hands gently closing the packaging of the blush before putting it away in its original place.

Chris watched with admiration her animated features as she talked and her hands moving her favorite products - which he had already memorized, him himself buying many of them for her everytime he passed by Sephora -, his eyes shining with pride.

"That's so cool, baby!" He exclaimed, smiling big and wrapping an arm around her waist, moving so that he was more centered inside the lens's frame and clinging to his girl. "You're amazing, you know that?"

"If your intention is to make me blush, it will be impossible under those layers of blush." Y/N intervened, raising her right hand with her palm facing him, rolling her eyes playfully in an attempt to feign annoyance, but the minimal smile on her face said otherwise. "Do you want to stay here? With me."

"Can I?" Chris widened his eyes comically, turning abruptly to her, feeling elated.

"Of course you can, honey!" Y/N couldn't help but laugh at Chris's excitement, nodding with a smile. "Welcome to my world of beauty." She opened her arms in an exaggerated gesture of welcome, receiving a nasal laugh in response.

As she resumed her makeup, explaining the next steps in detail, Chris watched with interest, asking questions and showing genuine interest in the entire process, a childish and euphoric aura surrounding his body.

As Y/N picked up her favorite mascara and began to explain in detail about the brand and its incredible formula that provided volume and length without clumping, Chris's eyes traveled between the product - which he already knew very well - and her concentrated expression. He could see the passion in his girlfriend's eyes as she talked about her beauty rites, and this only increased his admiration for her, an involuntary smile resting on his face.

Then, when Y/N was about to apply the mascara, the boy gently stepped forward, extending his hands, stopping her movements. The girl raised her eyes to him, a confused expression hovering over them before noticing what he wanted to do after watching Chris take the product from her hands.

That wasn't unusual between them; Over the three years of their relationship, Chris had become skilled at some specific makeup steps, helping his girlfriend on several occasions.

"Can I?" He asked softly, holding the mascara in her eyes level.

Y/N smiled, feeling grateful for her boyfriend's affectionate gesture, throwing a wink in the direction of the camera before turning her body slightly to the side, so that her face was still visible to the lens and that Chris could see her completely.

"Please, go ahead, baby." She finally replied, her eyes shining with tenderness as she watched Chris move closer, wanting to put himself in an easy position for both of them, without running the risk of smudging his work.

With skill and care, Chris began to apply the mascara to Y/N's long, naturally curled lashes, following the precise movements he had observed she doing so many times. He furrowed his eyebrows in a serious expression, determined to do an impeccable job, his tongue lolling out of his lips in concentration.

"Chris and I have an interesting ritual. For as long as I can remember, I've always been very careful about the way I look, and that didn't change after I started dating Chris, and much less when we started actively going to each other's houses." Y/N explained softly, without moving her lips too much with the intention of not making him smudge his work. "And Chris, being the adorably clingy boyfriend that he is, would spend hours in the bathroom with me while I was trying out new makeup or getting ready to go out. He would just sit on the closed toilet seat and watch me for minutes on end."

"How could I not look at a work of art as perfect as you?" The boy interrupted her, shooting off his sentence before an involuntary smirk appeared on his lips, feeling the skin of her right cheek burn against his own hand.

"And then, one day, he asked to do my makeup, but before I explained the function of each product." Y/N quickly resumed her train of thought, ignoring her boyfriend's flirting. "And over time, every time we go out together, he asks to help me, or just to watch me doing my skin routine."

"Sharing these intimate moments with you is the best part of my daily routine." The brunette said softly, his tone low with the intention of only his girlfriend hearing, his eyes meeting hers tenderly.

Y/N quickly pressed her lips into a thin line, feeling her neck and cheeks burn even more in shyness, her right hand moving up his body, caressing his covered hip lightly with her fingers in ghost touches.

When he was finished, Chris stood back with a triumphant smile, admiring his work with pride. Y/N turned around, facing the camera and the mirror completely, observing her own reflection for a few seconds, impressed with the result. Her lashes were perfectly defined and voluminous, exactly how she liked them.

"Wow, you're getting better at this!" Y/N exclaimed, approaching her face to the camera slightly, blinking repeatedly, wanting the lens to capture her boyfriend's perfect work. "Thank you, my love."

Chris smiled excitedly, happy to have made Y/N feel even more pretty, his hands returning to their previous place on her waist.

"Vogue, please, get Chris to do the next episode of Vogue Beauty Secrets."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

extra - comments:

"petition for Chris and Y/N to start posting makeup videos together ✏️📄"

"I never thought I would see Chris knowing about makeup, much less doing someone's makeup 😭"

"this is the cutest thing I've ever seen in my entire life 😔✋🏻"

"I need a boyfriend like Chris, who does my makeup every day 🙏🏻"

"Chris is the true meaning of acts of service 🥺"

"couple goals fr 🤞🏻"

"Chris is to blame for my standard being so high 😫"

"get someone that looks at you like Chris looks at Y/N while she puts on makeup 🤭"

“okay, but can we talk about Y/N’s flawless skin? I'm jealous 😫”

"Y/N's makeup >>>>>"

taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @sturniolowhore @luvr4miya @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @hearts4chriss @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @ksskianshd @soimightlikeoldmen69 @ldr-sl0t @breeloveschris @its-jennarose @sainzzsturns @ecliphttlunar @soso-scarlettolivia @sturnolio-luvs @bitchydragonparadise @freshsturns @h3arts4harry @patscorner @strnilolo @bernardsbendystraws @mattsneezing @poetatorturadaa @meg-sturniolo @orangeypepsi @jnkvivi @chrisactualwife @watermelonreid @fratbrochrisgf @elordilover @somegirlfromasgard @hpyjw

(If you want to be added to the taglist, go to this post)

997 notes · View notes

hmmarble · 2 months

Text

HMMARBLEDESİGN - DRAGON+ (4)

Transforming your bathroom into a luxurious retreat doesn't have to be daunting, especially with the timeless elegance of black marble. The deep, rich tones of black marble not only exude sophistication but also create a striking contrast that can elevate any space. In this blog post, we will explore the allure of a black marble bathroom, highlighting how this dramatic feature can infuse modern elegance into your home.

Black Marble Bathroom

The black marble bathroom is a stunning choice for those looking to create a sophisticated and luxurious space. This bold design element can transform an ordinary bathroom into an exquisite sanctuary. The rich tones and unique veining of black marble bring an air of elegance and style that is both timeless and contemporary.

When incorporating black marble into your bathroom, consider options such as black marble countertops, vanity tops, and even accent walls. The contrast against lighter colors can create a striking and dramatic effect, making your space feel more expansive and well-defined.

One of the key benefits of a black marble bathroom is its versatility. It pairs beautifully with a variety of materials, such as brushed gold or chrome fixtures, and complements different color palettes, from soft whites to vibrant jewel tones. This adaptability allows homeowners to personalize their space while maintaining a cohesive look.

There are various finishes available for black marble, each offering a unique aesthetic. A polished finish provides a sleek, glossy surface that reflects light beautifully, while a honed finish delivers a more understated, matte look that can soften the overall appearance of the bathroom.

Lighting plays a crucial role in showcasing the beauty of a black marble bathroom. Consider installing ambient lighting to highlight the natural veins and texture of the black marble. Additionally, task lighting around mirrors can enhance visibility and add warmth to the space.

To add depth and interest, incorporate other design elements that create contrast and texture. For example, pairing black marble with wooden accents can create a warm and inviting atmosphere. Textiles such as plush towels and bath mats in lighter shades can also soften the overall look.

With its rich aesthetic and timeless appeal, a black marble bathroom is more than just a design choice; it’s an opportunity to create a luxurious retreat in your home. Whether you’re planning a complete renovation or simply looking to refresh your existing space, integrating black marble can elevate your bathroom to new heights.

Modern Marble Bathroom

When it comes to designing a modern marble bathroom, the emphasis is on clean lines, minimalistic features, and the striking appeal of marble. This luxurious stone, often associated with opulence, can elevate your bathroom space into a sanctuary of relaxation.

One of the defining characteristics of a modern marble bathroom is the color palette. While many opt for classic whites and creams, darker shades like black or gray marble create a bold statement. Black marble, with its rich depth and unique veining, can transform traditional notions of bathroom design, making it a chic and contemporary choice.

A key feature in a modern marble bathroom is the seamless integration of marble into various elements, from countertops to flooring. Large format tiles have become increasingly popular, creating a sense of space and continuity. Pairing these tiles with elegant fixtures and understated accessories enhances the overall aesthetic without detracting from the beauty of the marble.

Vanities in a modern marble bathroom often showcase the stone’s natural patterns, turning functional furniture into a visual centerpiece. Choosing sleek hardware and soft-close drawers can maintain a streamlined look, while integrated lighting adds warmth and sophistication.

For those seeking to add a touch of personality, consider incorporating wood elements or contrasting materials like glass. These choices balance the heaviness of marble with lightness, making the bathroom feel both inviting and serene.

Incorporating plants or greenery can breathe life into the cool, polished surfaces of a modern marble bathroom. Strategic placement of greenery not only adds color but also promotes a calming environment.

Lastly, don’t forget about the practicality of maintaining your modern marble bathroom. While marble is undeniably glamorous, it requires regular sealing and care to keep it in pristine condition. Choosing the right products for cleaning and maintenance will ensure your marble retains its beauty for years to come.

Bathroom Marble Design

When it comes to creating a luxurious and sophisticated space, bathroom marble design stands out as an exceptional choice. Marble is known for its timeless beauty, variety, and ability to elevate the overall aesthetic of any bathroom. In this section, we will explore some key elements and ideas related to bathroom marble design.

Choosing the Right Marble

One of the first steps in bathroom marble design is selecting the right type of marble. From classic white Carrara to striking black marquina, the options are abundant. Each type of marble comes with its unique veining and color variations, allowing you to match the marble to your personal style. Consider how different marbles will interact with your bathroom's lighting and the overall color scheme to create the desired atmosphere.

Incorporating Patterns

Another exciting aspect of bathroom marble design is the ability to incorporate patterns. Marble can be cut and laid out in various patterns like herringbone, checkerboard, or even geometric shapes. These designs can add depth and interest to your bathroom, making it feel more dynamic and stylish.

Combining with Other Materials

To enhance your bathroom marble design, consider combining marble with other materials. Pairing marble with warm woods, sleek metals, or even vibrant tiles can create an intriguing contrast and elevate the space further. This combination can help to soften the look of marble, making it feel more inviting and less formal.

Accent Features

Incorporating marble accent features like vanity tops, shower surrounds, or even marble sinks can transform a standard bathroom into a luxurious retreat. These elements become focal points in the design, drawing attention and admiration. For a truly unique touch, consider custom marble pieces that reflect your style.

Maintenance and Care

While the beauty of marble is undeniable, it's important to consider its maintenance. Proper care, including regular sealing and careful cleaning, will keep your bathroom marble design looking pristine. Avoid harsh chemicals that can damage the stone, and always use coasters or mats to prevent stains and scratches.

In summary, bathroom marble design offers a wealth of possibilities to create a stunning and elegant space. With the right choices and careful planning, you can achieve a bathroom that embodies luxury and style.

542 notes · View notes

verstappensrealwife · 7 months

Text

Home is you - Fernando Alonso x Reader

fluff.

age-gap. not specifically mentioned but the reader is younger.

approx. 1000 words

fernando alonso masterlist - here. f1 masterlist - here.

Seated in the luxurious confines of his private jet, en route to Bahrain for the electrifying Grand Prix season opener, you found yourself ensconced in a cocoon of anticipation and desire. Across from you lounged the man who ignited flames of passion within your soul, his intense gaze igniting a firestorm of longing and yearning deep within you. As you gazed out of the window, ensnared by the mesmerising spectacle of clouds stretching endlessly across the cerulean expanse, his voice, velvety and laden with desire, pierced through the tranquil ambiance.

“Go on a date with me,” he murmured huskily beside you, his words dripping with an intoxicating blend of sincerity and playful allure.

You turned to him, a soft laugh escaping your lips at the unexpected proposition. “Pardon?” you replied, your voice laced with amusement and a hint of teasing.

“Please~ go on a date with me?” he pleaded, his smile infused with the heady scent of whiskey that hung in the air, a testament to his valiant efforts to ease his nerves during the flight.

Amused by his endearing persistence, you leaned in closer, revelling in the magnetic pull between you. “I don’t know if my dad will approve of you, sir,” you teased, a mischievous glint dancing in your eyes.

“What!” he exclaimed, his offence giving way to a grin of delight. “Let me talk to your dad, sweetheart, I’m sure I could convince him.”

After a brief pause, he regarded you with a dreamy expression, his eyes alight with adoration. “You’re pretty,” he declared softly, his gaze tracing the contours of your face with reverence. “D- Do you have a boyfriend, pretty?” he hiccupped slightly, his smile widening with each passing moment.

You nodded, a tender smile playing on your lips. “A husband, actually,” you replied, your tone infused with affection and determination.

His brow furrowed in confusion, his expression a mixture of disbelief and jealousy. “Leave him, be with me!” he urged, his words slurred with the remnants of alcohol. “Who is this man?” he demanded, his concern palpable.

With a knowing smile, you retrieved your phone, turning the screen towards him to reveal his own reflection staring back at him. “Wh- Wait, I am your husband!” he exclaimed, realisation dawned on him. “So can we go out on the date I planned?”

You nodded in agreement, squeezing his hand affectionately before attempting to release it. However, he held on tightly, his grip a reassuring anchor in the swirling sea of emotions.

Later, in the privacy of the opulent hotel room, he began to sober up (barely), the lingering effects of alcohol fading away as he prepared for the evening ahead. With meticulous care, he adorned himself in his finest attire, his efforts a testament to his unwavering devotion to you. As you emerged from the bathroom, your beauty was enhanced by the artful application of makeup, his breath caught in his throat, his heart swelling with an overwhelming surge of desire.

“Whoa… Hola Cariño,” he joked, his voice husky with desire as he approached you, his hands tracing the curves of your body with electrifying precision. “I could just cancel dinner, then we could skip right to dessert?”

You blushed, a playful glint dancing in your eyes. “Shut up,” you countered, a coy smile playing on your lips. “But no— I just dressed up all nice for you— so you are gonna wine and dine me.” With a gentle press of your hands against his chest, you planted a tender kiss on his cheek, his grin widening as he playfully smacked your ass before guiding you towards the door, anticipation burning like a blazing inferno between you.

Under the soft glow of twinkling fairy lights strung overhead, you and your partner find yourselves nestled in a cozy corner of the enchanting garden café. The air is still alive in the evening, with the melody of chirping birds and the gentle rustle of leaves, lending an ethereal quality to the evening.

As you sip on glasses of sparkling champagne, your fingers intertwined with Fernando's, you can't help but marvel at the sheer magic of the moment. Across the table, his eyes sparkle with affection, mirroring the starlight above as he leans in closer, his breath mingling with yours in a sweet symphony of intimacy.

With a playful twinkle in their eye, your partner reaches for a delicate rose nestled in a vase on the table, presenting it to you with a flourish. "For the most beautiful woman I've ever set my eyes on," He whispers, his voice a tender caress against your ear.

Your heart swells with warmth as you accept the flower, its petals soft beneath your fingertips. "Thank you," you murmur, your voice filled with gratitude and love.

Together, you share laughter and stories, each moment infused with a sense of joy and wonder. The world fades away as you lose yourselves in each other's company, the hours slipping by unnoticed in the embrace of your love.

As the night deepens, he rises from his seat, extending a hand towards you with a smile. "May I have this dance?" he asks, his eyes sparkling with mischief and longing.

You accept with a smile, rising gracefully to your feet as he leads you to a makeshift dance floor bathed in the soft glow of moonlight. With gentle movements and whispered promises, you sway together in perfect harmony, lost in the rhythm of the music and the embrace of each other's arms.

In that moment, time stands still, and all that exists is the two of you, wrapped in a cocoon of love and affection. With every step, every touch, you feel your bond deepening, your souls intertwining in a dance as old as time itself.

As the song draws to a close, you find yourselves reluctant to part, the magic of the evening lingering like a sweet, lingering dream.

el fin

337 notes · View notes

pwinkprincess · 5 months

Text

angel face ୨ৎ

you met toji at a bar. you remember that setting very well, sometimes too well. when you’re bored, you’ll sit back and think about that very night. you had just turned 20 not too long ago, and your friends had finally got the fake ids they ordered months ago. with excited giggles, they handed the ids out. you’ll never forget how your heart thumped as you examined the little card that displayed lie after lie. you had never done something so illegal, something so sinister.

that night, you waited until your parents were sleeping. no, not just laying in bed and resting, but absolutely sleeping. their breathing turned heavy and their chests rose up and down slowly. their backs touched each other as if they had enough of each other, even while unconscious. with the knowledge that they were asleep, you made sure to close the luxurious door as quietly as possible. the door closed shut with a soft thud. you stood there for a second, holding your breath. you weren’t sure as to what you were waiting for, but you waited.

you counted to 60 in your head four times before solidifying that they were actually asleep. your eyes crinkle as a smile adorned your lips. with newfound enthusiasm, your feet that were comforted in white lace socks pitter patter against the prime grade wood flooring. you skip into your room and close and lock the door behind you.

you grab your phone that sits on top of your nightstand.11:20 it reads. you have exactly an hour and ten minutes to get ready. you’re quick to rush into your white marbled bathroom that had soft pink enhancements sprouted throughout the room.

the walls are adorned with large, glossy white marble tiles, reflecting light and creating an illusion of spaciousness. lowered chandeliers create soft, ambient lighting, casting a gentle modern glow over the room. the room's main feature is a gleaming white marble bathtub with simple, elegant lines and a large basin that invites you to have a relaxing dip. a peaceful waterfall faucet that cascades above it softly filling the tub with warm water whenever you feel the need to soak your stresses away.

you choose to use your stand-up shower, for this occasion. the shower is fully glass, exposing everything and more. two sides or large glass panels trap you on your sides to stop the water from escaping freely. as you turn the hot water on, both the overhead shower-head and the six miniature shower-heads come to life. you take off your pink silky robe, hanging it on the nook that’s nailed onto the wall beside your shower. you rub your body clean with soaps and exfoliators. the water plays a soft tune throughout the bathroom, the relaxing sound from the faucet merges with the sweet scents. it’s a precise routine that you do daily. scrubbing yourself until you’re absolutely sure your body is sparkling, and then stepping out of your shower with a pink fluffy towel around your body. a large white bathroom rug catches all of the spare droplets as you walk to your sink.

when you’re done with your skincare routine which includes not only your face but oiling your body down, you’re leaving your bathroom and walking into your walk-in closet. the automatic light sensors turn on, almost if it was awaiting your arrival. you choose a short light pink dress, and a pair of expensive shoes that match the shading. you gush over the cute bows that are etched onto the heel of the shoe.

time moves quickly. one minute you’re brushing your hair and inserting a clip on bow, and the next you’re quietly sneaking out through the back door. you walk to your friend’s white range rover that’s parked three houses down.

the rest of the night is moved in little blurs. you feel like you’re sitting inside of a cinema, watching a newly released movie. the bar is full of men. and not the guys you’re used to seeing around at these little college frat parties. no, these are men with tattoos, men with beards, mens with war battles littered on their body, men who are old enough to be your dad. as you look around, you suddenly feel childish in your outfit. the women in the bar wear crop tops and little shorts that have their ass cheeks hanging out. there’s a sense of maturity that courses through the bar, something the frat parties could never carry.

these are criminals, office men, police officers, businessmen. and suddenly there’s a throbbing in your lower region that you’ve never felt before. you’re looking around curiously as if the bar is some sort of museum that hold rare artifacts.

you look over at a table full of guys, their faces are littered with tired eyes and white beards. you accidentally make eye contact with one of the men and he winks before smirking and muttering something to his friends. they all snap their heads to you and your friends. some of them whistle while the others carry the same smirk. you should feel disgusted, guys that were possibly in the same classes with your dad, are making advances towards you. but instead the throbbing increases and a feeling of need courses through your body.

your friends make it to the bar and take your seats. a female bartender who looks to be in her mid 30s walks up to you four. she has overgrown blonde roots and various random tattoos littered all over her skin. her skin is obviously fake tanned, the exposed parts of her body are three shades darker than her head. her makeup is cakey and there’s dark eyeshadow around her eyes creating a lazily done smokey eye look. there’s a few facial piercings on her face as well. a dermal beside her eye, two dimple piercings, an eyebrow piercing, and when she opens her mouth to greet you all you can see the ball of a tongue piercing.

“what can i get for you ladies?” her voice is somewhat strained and gravelly. as she leans in, you can smell the lingering smell of cigarettes on her tongue.

“can i have eight shots of lemon drop, please.” your friend flashes the bartender a mischievous smile.

those shots were what got the night going. you were already very tipsy after your two shots and also a half glass of tequila. your friends had scattered around the bar, having conversations amongst themselves. you watch them, there’s envy burning in your stomach at how social they’re able to be so easily. you take it as competition. you sway your head to the side and your eyes land on a guy who’s sitting on the far end of the counter.

with the confidence you mustered, you walk up to him and sit in the wooden chair beside him. the chair creaks as you adjust yourself. sucking in a heavy breath, you smile at him.

“hi.” you greet him.

“’m not a perv. fuck off.” his response has you blinking rapidly in shock.

“uhm .. what? i’m-i’m of age!” you exclaim. you don’t know why you feel so offended at his words. most girls would’ve instantly stood up and walked away from his hostility, but if anything it strung you in even more.

“yeah, okay. and lemme guess, there’s pigs out there flyin’.” he chuckles but it’s forced, if anything.

“you, sir, are reaaaal hostile.” you drag the word out. the alcohol in your system is fumbling with your ability to talk normally.

“go away, little girl.” he dismisses you once again. he’s gripping his glass, with the muscles straining from his tight black shirt you wonder if he’s going to end up breaking it.

you have no idea as to why you’re so stuck on staying beside him and continuing to try. “i’ll have you know,” you emphasize, making sure the word rings through his head. “i can do everything you can do. vote, pay taxes, drive, all of that.”

“not drink, though.” he argues.

your eyebrows scrunch and suddenly you’re digging through your purse searching for that fake id. once your fingers grasp it, you’re pulling it out and slamming it on the polished wood.

“actually, i can.” you challenge. you’re sliding the card in front of him, all of your confidence powered into that one finger.

the guy goes quiet for a second, he’s reading your id. you cross your arms in victory. yeah, he doesn’t have much to say now.

or so you thought. “this shit’s faker than me claimin’ t’be a good father.” he says, his voice tinged with disgust. he slides the card back in front of you.

“okay. whatever. ‘m of age, though. okay? i’m 20 and if i’m not mistaken that’s grown.” you reply.

he finally turns, his entire body turns to look at you. lean and toned. he’s extremely built, with muscles everywhere. not to mention his waist, that’s so so slim. he’s wearing black jeans but you don’t even have to see his legs to know they match his arms. your eyes dart away his lower body to focus on his face. his face is rugged and masculine. he has sharp, angular features, including a strong jawline and high cheekbones. his green eyes are sharp and piercing as he stares down at you. you notice there’s an attractive scar that runs through his thin lips.

“‘nd is there a reason as t’why you keep botherin’ me, ms.twenty year old?” he asks sarcastically.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

“g-gonna cum again!” you gasp. your head lays in the crook of his neck. he has one strong hand holding your head so even if you wanted to move it, you couldn’t.

you had only had sex with one guy, ever. and he was more so on the skinnier side. you wouldn't shame him at all, he had managed to pull a few orgasms out of you. but this一this was different. he was stretching you out in ways that had your mind completely fucked. your pussy is stretched and wrapped tightly around his cock as if it was made for him and him only.

your knees laid on both sides of his hips. you had started off riding him but he had quickly taken control when he realized how awkward you are when you’re on top. the way you stiffly jerked your hips would have resulted in absolutely no orgasms if he had let you continue. his feet were planted flat on the mattress while his other arm was wrapped around your lower back so that he could have leverage as he plowed his cock into your dripping pussy.

you could faintly hear the sound of police sirens through the thin motel walls. you had let the mystery man sway you to this cheap motel that looked as if it was infested with a little bit of everything. you remember the look on the receptionist’s face, a big man dressed in all black with a girl that’s inches shorter than him right beside him. they looked suspicious until you grabbed at the guy’s hand to lead him back outside once the two of you got a key.

“fuck are you so quiet for?” his voice snaps you out of your thoughts. before you could respond his big palm is striking down on your ass, sending multiple slaps. you whimper and jerk in his hold but he doesn’t let you move. “ungrateful thing. should i stop?”

“no!” you sob out. “please don’t stop.”

he rubs his hand over the spot he attacked before gripping your hip and fucking up into you even harder. the sound of his balls slapping against your skin and your pussy wetting his dick even more echoed through the room. the motel bed squeaks with every movement, like an old door protesting against being opened.

your senses whirl as he abruptly hurls you onto the side of the bed. your form plunges into the worn mattress, a musical of creaking springs accompanying your fall as you land on your stomach. everything moves fast as he’s suddenly behind you and pressing cock back inside of your awaiting pussy.

“arch your back.” he grumbles. he doesn’t give you time to move on your own before he’s grabbing your hips and adjusting them into the air. his sharp eyes take in your bruised pussy that’s clenching around nothing.

he lets his leaking cockhead rub against your pussy for a few moments. he shudders when his thick pre cum mixes with your arousal, creating a beautiful canvas. you’re whining and cooing out to him, he takes not of you growing impatient and taking it upon yourself to move your hips in desperate attempts that his dick would enter you.

“desperate girl.” he tuts before lining his dick up and slamming his dick back inside of you.

you let a deafening scream as your pussy streams out liquid. he immediately pulls out and rubs his length through the mess you’re creating.

"gooood girl. mhm cum all on m'dick. jus' like that." he coos at you. "gonna gimme some more? hm?" he asks while bracing his cock for your tight walls.

you whimper out something unintagible as you fix your arch once again. just the thought of him scolding you for not listening put a sense of uneasiness in your body. you wanted to continue being his good girl.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

nestled in a sea of soft, spiraling sheets and flat pillows, your soft breathing created a peaceful, rhythmic lullaby in the room. your chest's soft rise and fall resembled the waves' gentle rise and fall on a calm beach. your shape was nestled into the motel bed, which provided a false sense of haven from the outer world. toji gives your body a once over. he had really done a number on you. your body is littered with bites and bruises from him gripping you too hard. and somehow through all his negligence and however rough he was with you, you continued to moan and beg for more.

he told himself he was done with one night stands. god damnit. and then here you go walking into the bar with those needy ass doe eyes. he could smell the youthfulness on you. a twenty year old prissy girl with no true understanding of how ugly the world actually is.

toji exhaled while being lost in his own world as he stood outside the dimly illuminated motel room, wisps of smoke swirling around him. the light from his cigarette flickered with every breath, highlighting his face in the shadows.

he'd be lying if he said it didn't feel good. having a fine thing begging for more of his cock, the way you gripped the sheets whenever the overstimulation got too much to deal with, your choked sobs as he brought you to a place you've probably never reached before. a smirk tugged on his lips. you made him feel young again, that's for sure.

he could feel his phone buzzing in his pocket, it's possibly his boss who has found a shady job for toji to do. usually, he would've accepted in seconds but the thought of you halted him from doing so. this motel was located in a rather dangerous location and toji would feel like shit if he was listening to the news one day and found out some criminal got to you. he decides he'll walk you to a safer area before the two of you part ways.

his heart thumps hard in chest when he realizes this is the first and last time you two would ever do something like this. he enjoyed your smart replies and the fake confidence you put up at the bar. even more so, he enjoyed the size difference between you two. he dwarfs you in every way. he was practically throwing you around like some ragdoll and you took it. you took it all and that shit is fascinating to toji.

he tilts his head back, a cloud of smoke escapes through his mouth and into the air. that was一fun. he decides.

#olderbf!toji #pwinkprincess ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა #₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ #tojiii ᡣ𐭩 ୨୧ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶#jjk ! ૮꒰⸝⸝> ̫ <⸝⸝꒱ა #˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗#hihihi how r we feelin abt dis #i hope this made sense was u guys r interested cus i wld luv t'continue dis #toji smut #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji x you #fushiguro toji #toji x y/n

343 notes · View notes

stuckysbike · 1 year

Text

I’ll Be Your Prize

A/n: All mistakes are my own. Written on my phone.

Bucky x Reader

AU: Bucky is a boxer, and you have a surprise for him.

Warnings: filthy smut, slight angst, soft!Dom Bucky, anal sex, friends with benefits situation, idiots in love, presumed unrequited love.

The sound of the shower stopping caught your attention and you paused, listening for movement. After a few moments you went back to your phone, reexamining once again the pictures of you and Bucky posted on Instagram from earlier tonight.

Or last night, it was three hours past midnight now. Last night was the fight of Bucky’s career, and you had a front row seat to the ninth round knockout. Despite the beautiful women who had been crowding and flirting with him all night it was you he had chosen to take back to his luxury hotel suite.

You were reclining on the bed, body among the plush pillows when he stepped out of the bathroom. Water droplets were still clinging to his chest and disappearing below the towel slung low around his waist.

“Hey Champion,” you teased.

Bucky smirked at you, his eyes raking your body, appreciating the silky teddy you wore that enhanced your curves. “Are you my prize?”

You bit you lip, turning coy. “Yes sir,” you breathed.

Bucky’s smirk turned to a smouldering gaze and you squeezed your thighs together hoping to relieve some tension but you tingled even more. He licked his bottom lip as his eyes raked over you shamelessly. “Are you going to be my good girl?”

You nodded eagerly and he smiled. “Words Sugarplum,” he warned.

“Yessir,” you blinked at him.

His corded muscles bulged as he stalked towards you. Watching him earlier in the ring you saw not only his opponent flinch but the contingent of potential future challengers shifted uncomfortably too. Bucky was a force to be reckoned with, and now his attention was solely on you.

Fighters needed confidence and cockiness and Bucky had that in spades. He didn’t brag and postulate the way most others did, his quiet confidence was conveyed in an unnerving and unwavering stare.

Yes they would probably challenge him, convince themselves they could and would beat him, they would even give it their best shot but Bucky was steadfast, smart and swift despite his massive bulk.

As he dropped the towel you licked your lips, admiring his thick thighs and tapered hips. His hard leaking cock curved upwards and you thought about crawling forward and wrapping your lips around the tip but you had other plans tonight.

Bucky was in top form and despite the bruises and marks from the opponent on his body he was eager to claim his prize, and that prize was you.

“Will it fit?” You teased, keeping up with the little game.

Bucky nodded thoughtfully and tilted his head to the side to examine you, and you felt your cunt flutter again as he stalked closer.

The bed dipped as Bucky knelt on it, and one big hand curled around your ankle, thumb brushing the smooth skin as he followed your leg to where the satin rested on your thighs.

“So beautiful,” he murmured.

You preened at his praise, proud that you were the one in his bed, the one he wanted in his bed. Bucky was a popular man, a ladies man, and when he finally decided to settle down hearts would break; you just hoped your heart wasn’t one of them.

You pushed the tiny gnawing feeling away as Bucky settled over you, his mouth going straight to your neck. He kissed and marked your skin as you ran your palms down over his impressive pecs, pausing to scrape his nipples with your nails.

Bucky hissed in pleasure and rocked against you leaving a wet spot on your thigh. He moved to the other side of your neck, nipping the sensitive flesh and you moaned, your eyes rolling back in your head.

Long fingers played about with the hem of your nightie, his warm hand sliding over your soft belly. He used his teeth to tug the satin from your left breast then licked over your nipple. “Love these tits,” Bucky mumbled as he licked your nipple then drew it into his mouth.

His hands played under your satin nightie and thick fingers explored your soaked pussy, parting your lips and brushing your sensitive clit.

“Bucky, feels so good,” you sighed to him. “Need more.”

Bucky chuckled and pushed two fingers into your channel. You knew the drill, Bucky had a system, an unspoken kink that you were prepared to explore, he loved to tease your tightly furled hole with his pinky as he fucked you with his fingers.

You felt almost smug spreading your legs as Bucky’s finger drifted lower, and you couldn’t help but sigh as he discovered what you had done.

“Sugarplum? What have you done?” He voiced your thoughts as he sat up on his haunches and gripped your ankles in one hand. The other slid under your butt and he lifted you easily to get a better view of your asshole. Or of the plug peeking out from between your cheeks.

You spent a long time exploring your options, but in the end you chose one with jewelled base for tonight. You had spent weeks preparing for this, stretching yourself with toys. Given your friends with benefits relationship you took a chance wearing it for him tonight, but he invited you to the fight and he had yet to discard you on a fight night.

You blushed at his manhandling of your body, moving you about as if you weighed nothing. “Your prize,” you breathed.

You felt suddenly nervous, you were about to give Bucky every single piece of your body, he already had your heart, with no idea if he felt the same way. You chased that little voice away as you watched him scan you with his eyes.

“I want you to fuck me in the ass,” you whispered softly.

Bucky’s eyes darkened and you felt your cunt flutter again. “Filthy girl,” Bucky groaned. He draped himself over you, kissed you hard then sat back up spreading your legs. He wasted no time in sliding two pillows underneath your hips and settling between your thighs.

“First I’m going to eat this ass, then I’m going to fuck it,” Bucky said. His mouth was hot on your thigh as he kissed the skin, and then the plug was shifting and twisting. “Is that what you want Love?”

“Yes please sir,” you said. Bucky’s chuckle was dark as he teased your hole. When the plug popped out his mouth was right there, licking your skin. He circled the rim, sucking at the puffy skin and making the most obscene slurping noises. He rested a hand over your tummy, and his thumb circled your clit. His other hand strayed up to tease your breast and nipple and you grasped at his thick wrist.

Bucky was determined, his mouth hummed against your rim and his thumb became more aggressive against your tight bundle of nerves and you tried to arch against him, but his arm anchored over your hips held you tight to the bed.

“Gonna’ come for me darlin’?” Bucky asked. You looked down into his lust blown eyes and squeezed his wrist tighter. He shifted, lacing his fingers with yours to anchor you as you felt your muscles begin to contract. “Come.”

You felt that burn in your hips snap and you cried out as you tried to grind against his face. Bucky groaned and humped against the bed as he worked you through your orgasm. He kept hold of your hand, and somehow that felt more intimate than his tongue probing your hole.

Your eyes fluttered and you watched in a daze as Bucky sat back and fisted his cock. He was dripping, and the bulbous head was nearly purple. “D’you got more lube?”

You nodded and reached underneath your pillow. Bucky leaned over you to kiss you, catching both of your hands and pressing them against the headboard. “Keep em’ here for me Sugarplum,” he ran his fingers through your natural slick and drew it down to your hole, and then added a generous dollop of lube to his cock, hissing at the cool temperature.

Big hands turned you over and you went easily, glancing back over your shoulder to watch him. Bucky pushed the bottom of your teddy out of the way, baring your rump to him and then used three fingers to test the stretch of your hole, adding lube and being careful to warm it. When he was satisfied you were stretched enough he made a pleased sound and pressed a kiss to the small of your back.

“Oh god Bucky,” you sighed as he positioned himself at your entrance and pressed forward. You had never taken anyone there and you already felt gone for him, desperate to have him in you.

You gasped, the stretch burned but it was a pleasant feeling and Bucky took his time, easing back and pushing in an inch at a time until his heavy balls rested against your pussy lips.

You grasped at the sheets, your teeth biting into your bottom lip as Bucky shifted getting used to your body. He slipped an arm beneath you and squeezed your tit, nipping the skin of your shoulder between his teeth then soothing it with wet kisses.

You rutted up, clenching around his length. “Bucky please move,” you panted unable to take the tension. He kissed your neck one last time, his tongue sneaking out to taste you before he drew his hips back and pressed forward slowly.

It wasn’t long until you found a rhythm, and Bucky’s moans mixed with your cries and the sound of skin on skin was the only sound in the room. His chest rested on your back as he pumped his hips, his thighs rested on yours pinning you down and his arms caged you in trying to keep his weight off your body. You felt safe and protected, and the haze in your mind started to clear out as he fucked you.

“So fucking tight Sugarplum, so good for me, good to me,” he said. “Your tight ass is the most amazing feeling. Like my cock in your ass huh Doll, I think you do?”

“Yeah, I can be your girl, your good girl,” you replied desperately. The hand between your breasts drifted lower and Bucky pressed two thick fingers into your channel.

“Fuck I can feel me inside you,” Bucky gasped as he moved his fingers. You felt so full, your thin walls between Bucky’s fingers and cock were burning and you whole body was buzzing. You could barely breathe, and at this point you weren’t sure you needed to. All you needed was Bucky.

You clenched around him and Bucky cried out. “Strangling my cock Sugarplum,” he moaned as he nipped your earlobe. You turned your head to share a messy kiss, all tongue and no finesse. The action made you giggle softly and Bucky kissed your head fondly.

You could soon feel his hips stutter, and he curled his fingers just so inside your sopping pussy while pressing your clit with his thumb at the same time. You cried out as you came and Bucky groaned, biting your skin lightly between his teeth. You felt his warmth a few moments later, ropes of his come filling you up.

You both lay in a haze, his hips occasionally rocking slightly. Your clit still twitched under his thumb with tiny aftershocks and you knew that you wanted to do this again.

“Next time on my back so I can kiss you proper,” you said quietly.

“Oh fuck,” he said as he heaved himself off you and collapsed back onto the mattress beside you. He gathered you into his arms and pulled you close, his hand cupping your ass. “You’ll be the death of me you beautiful menace.”

“I look ridiculous,” you giggled. You had one boob out of your nightie and your hair and face were a mess. Not to mention the sticky mess between your legs.

“Beautiful,” Bucky praised. “Thank you.”

You pressed a kiss to his lips and then Bucky was on his feet. He grabbed a wash cloth and after wiping you and himself clean he helped you off with your nightie. You snuggled in next to him as dawn began to break outside.

“You’re amazing,” you couldn’t help but say.

I love you.

“Thank you for being here, I love it when you watch me fight,” Bucky said as his fingers played with your hair. You snuggled into his broad chest and draped your leg over his thigh.

Bucky always bedded you after a fight, spent the days afterwards with you, as his adrenaline settled and he allowed himself to indulge in the pleasures that he denied for so long leading up to the bout.

“Thank you for bringing me along to your fight.”

Tell me you love me.

“You’ve been here from the start, only fair you get to see the biggest one so far,” Bucky murmured against your head. “Besides, your my best girl.”

“You’re so needy,” you rolled your eyes playfully, hiding your disappointment behind gentle teasing.

I may be your best girl, but I’m not your only girl.

“Let’s get some sleep Sugarplum,” Bucky said.

You nodded and kissed his chest but sleep was slow to come as your mind whirled and studied every word you had shared with Bucky tonight, but you settled down knowing that at least for now he had chosen you.

—————

As you lay awake your mind whirling with thoughts so did Bucky.

It’s was getting harder for him to give you up, to let you go back to your life, and he hated how far gone he was on you. Other girls were an easy distraction for a time but all he wanted was you and they were becoming less satisfying.

It was an offhand comment you had made years ago, the first time you hooked up, that kept him from confessing his feelings. Even then he was hung up on you, the quiet granddaughter of his mentor and the man who owned the boxing gym he first trained at.

I’m not looking for anything serious and neither should you be, you’ve got a career to think about now. Besides, your not the kind of guy a girl like me deserves.

He could still hear your voice clearly almost a decade later. The words still cut. He wasn’t good enough or smart enough for you, he wasn’t what you wanted in a husband.

Bucky wondered if he should give it a chance with you, put his heart on the line one last time? He turned his head, curled his arm across your tummy and snuggled into your side.

His actions settled both of you, and unbeknownst to each other you both fell asleep with each others comfort.

Part 2

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #boxer!bucky #bucky au #fwb

583 notes · View notes

adore-laur · 10 months

Text

PINK VELVET

— an italian getaway full of sunshine & surprises 💗

——

SALERNO, ITALY

Crystalline blue waters sparkling under the sunshine, ornate architecture standing high among the cliffsides, and mopeds burning rubber on the cobblestone streets—it's all pure, unadulterated bliss.

Sharing that bliss with your boyfriend enhances the experience. Both of you have been staying at a villa rental for a few days already, and the surrounding greenery and stucco buildings on the precipice rocks of the Tyrrhenian Sea bring a much-needed sense of privacy. It's a getaway for your third anniversary with Harry, and while it's a more extended vacation than usual—two weeks to be exact—the mellow atmosphere makes you feel like you could stay in Italy forever.

Harry said he plans on wooing you with the foreign language, having bought a book filled with romantic phrases at the airport's souvenir shop. You're dreading it because once he starts, he won't stop.

It's four in the afternoon, and you're getting ready to kayak off the Amalfi Coast. The heat will be sweltering, especially out on the open water, so you put on jean shorts over your swim bottoms, leaving just your bikini top on. Harry is standing in the doorway of the master bathroom and tying the strings of his swim trunks. He's wearing a white tank top that you know will be taken off eventually.

A cooler packed with snacks and drinks is by the front door. Once you reach downtown, the journey to the kayak launch takes about fifteen minutes, so you and Harry will drive in the vintage Cadillac he insisted on renting and park on the street before walking the rest of the way.

"Ready?" Harry asks, giving your ass two pats as he walks by.

"I guess," you say flatly.

He smirks and steals a scrunchie from your makeup bag to put around his wrist. "That's enough out of you."

You hoist the cooler over your shoulder, sling a beach towel over the other, and then stroll through the spacious villa rooms toward the door. When you open it, a blast of humid air immediately hits you. Harry brushes past you while jingling the car keys, a drawstring backpack on his back. You lock the door before heading toward the luxurious car you don't want to know the cost of.

Harry swings the passenger door open for you like a gentleman, but you decide to mess with him by ignoring his gesture. You open the driver's side door and smoothly crawl over the console until you're in the passenger seat. Harry slowly shakes his head, reaching forward to pluck your bikini strap with his fingers and lightly snap it against your skin. He throws his backpack under the seat before sliding behind the steering wheel.

The engine roars to life. Harry's hand places itself on your headrest, his body twisting around so he can carefully reverse down the circular driveway. You take his hand and set your interlocked fingers in your lap. He glances at you and smiles, his hair blowing beautifully in the wind and the sun casting a golden hue over his face.

When you arrive downtown, Harry parks along a random street. He removes his hand from yours and claps once. "Okay, here's the game plan. I reckon we should rent one kayak for both of us. It'll be cheaper and more fun, and we can work together like—"

"Absolutely not."

"Pardon?"

"I'm sorry, but being stuck in a kayak with you sounds like my personal hell. You'll somehow manage to tip us over or get us lost." Harry can live in a world of his own sometimes. You really want to avoid ending up stranded in the deep, expansive ocean.

"Baby," he says, looking at you with wounded eyes. "What if I drift away and we lose each other? I need you. I'll do all the work while you sit back and relax."

You can't possibly say no to him when he looks like a literal Greek god basking in the Italian sun, his lips irresistibly pink against his tanned skin.

"Fine," you surrender. "I'm not letting you do all the work, though, because we'll probably end up in a different country. Also, I'm sitting in the front seat. Deal?"

"Sì, amore mio," he says, passion dripping off his tongue. "And, um... I may have already paid for just one kayak when I booked the reservation yesterday. Well, singular ticket."

"You're unbelievable." Stepping out of the car, you stretch your limbs while Harry puts his backpack on and grabs the cooler. You hold onto his free hand and begin walking to the beach. Many people are out and about—vendors selling gourmet cuisine, kids riding bicycles through the alleyways, and tourists stopping at attractions.

At the waterfront, kayaks are stacked on racks, shimmering under the sun. Since Harry booked a reservation ahead of time, he walks toward the man who appears to be running the operation. You watch them shake hands and converse. Harry knows enough basic Italian to navigate through any language barrier yet to come.

Eventually, they both wander over to you, and the man caresses your hand and kisses your cheek. You smile and shyly mutter an Italian greeting. The man then excitedly leads you to the kayaks, taking a maroon two-seater from the bottom rack and dragging it toward the water. While following him, you notice only a few people are on the beach today. Only a couple of other occupied kayaks drift in the ocean, looking like mere silhouettes from where you stand.

"You know the rules, yes?" asks the man as he pushes the front of the kayak into the shallow water.

"Yes, I've done this before. I'll teach this guy," you say, pointing at Harry while draping your towel over the seat.

Harry smiles mindlessly, placing the cooler and backpack between the two seats. The man briefly leaves to grab life jackets and oars, leaving you and Harry to get into the kayak. You let him go first since he's sitting in the back. As you grip the side so it doesn't rock, he removes his tank top and hands it to you before steadily climbing in and bending his long legs to fit in the restrictive space.

You're next. Harry plants his foot in the sand to keep the kayak balanced and then offers his hand to grasp. Once you're situated, you sigh relievedly.

"This sucks," Harry mutters, nudging his knee against your back. "I can't even see your face."

"You could've solved that problem if you got us two kayaks."

"Yeah, but I wanted to be close to you," he says, sliding his shoes off. "Just look behind you every once in a while so I can get my fix."

You laugh, looking at the water that endlessly expands past the horizon. The man comes back with two life jackets, and you clip one to your body as sturdy oars are placed across your and Harry's laps. The man gives a thumbs up and slowly maneuvers the kayak away from the shoreline.

"Grazie!" Harry shouts, waving to him as the both of you drift further from land.

"Ciao! Stai al sicuro!" he shouts back.

The destination of the cliffs is a short one; their imminent height is visible far out to the left of the coastal village. You begin paddling, alternating sides to stay on a straight path, while Harry opens the cooler to take out a package of crackers and a bottle of water.

"Please tell me you know how to properly paddle," you say, taking a break to sip some water while the kayak naturally rides the ripples.

"Obviously. I'm kind of the backbone of this kayak, so I know what I'm doing," Harry replies with faux confidence, still not picking up the paddle.

"That's funny, considering I'm literally doing all the work right now. Get to paddling, or I won't turn around so you can get your fix."

"Calmati, bellissima," he murmurs, snatching a handful of crackers before finally helping.

A comfortable silence ensues, with only the sound of water splashing and the slight creak of the kayak that comes with each movement. Harry whistles a tune every so often. A content smile pulls at your lips.

However, it doesn't last long because if there's one thing Harry loves to do, it's acting like a child sometimes. He disrupts the long stretch of peace by pretending to tip over the kayak by rocking slightly back and forth in his seat, gasping like he's not doing it.

"Harry, I swear," you say with a nervous undertone, holding on to the edge of the kayak so you don't actually tip over into the vast ocean, infested with who knows what. "You're like a five-year-old!"

He listens immediately, apparently noticing your anxiousness. He settles back in his seat, stretching his legs next to your body and nudging his foot against your thigh as a silent apology.

"It wasn't me. I think there's an animal under us," he says, playing with your hair to distract you. It doesn't help, because you know that there are probably massive creatures swimming below you. He knows one of your biggest fears is drowning, so he should feel like a jerk now after his little charade.

"Are you going to sit there and braid my hair, or can you help me get to our destination before it gets dark?"

"Sorry," he murmurs, grabbing his paddle and helping you turn left toward the rock formations. They aren't too far away now.

"We're almost there," you encourage softly, dialing back your slight attitude. Harry is quiet, so you turn around to see him pouting softly. "Why are you sulking?"

"Am I being annoying? You sound annoyed with me," he says, avoiding eye contact and setting his paddle down.

"No, honey. I just want to get there as quickly as we can and swim for a bit. We have wine tasting after this, so we can't dilly-dally."

"Dilly-dally," he repeats, laughing at your chosen phrase. "Okay, I'll behave. Kiss?"

You capture his lips with yours, tasting the tomato and basil crackers he's been munching on. He kisses you back and reaches out his hand to push some hair behind your ear. Pulling away, you see the cliffs only about two hundred feet away. You both begin paddling again in serene silence.

At the side of the cliff, you stop the kayak by a large, flat rock that peeks out of the water and appears safe to stand on. You hold onto it; the waves are more active in this area, and you tie some rope around the post provided. You assume it's there for other kayakers and cliff divers to take advantage of.

Once you climb onto the rock, you offer your hand to assist Harry and pull him up. "We made it!" you exclaim, lifting your arms. Harry high-fives both of your hands and bends down to kiss you.

You unclip your life jacket, then do the same for Harry. Free from obstruction, your arms naturally loop around his waist for a hug. He embraces you, his large hand cradling the back of your head. You stay like that for a while, watching waves crash against the rocks as the sun starts painting the sky with blue and orange streaks.

"Wanna do something stupid?" you say into his chest before lifting your chin to look at him mischievously. He has more freckles due to the hours spent sunbathing.

Harry peers at you with furrowed brows. "What?"

"Let's jump off that rock," you say, pointing your finger behind him.

He turns you both around, still trapping you in his arms. A tall, cliff-like rock surrounded by several smaller rocks makes it easy to reach the top. You don't wait for Harry's answer and pull your shorts down, revealing your cherry-red bikini bottoms. Venturing your way up, you glance back at Harry. He grins and immediately follows suit, walking behind you with outreached arms in case you slip.

At the top, you both stare at each other with knowing smiles. This is exactly where you're supposed to be.

Out of nowhere, Harry experiences a burst of spontaneity and quickly lunges forward, cannonballing off the cliff and into the water. He emerges after a few seconds, shaking his hair and letting out a loud holler, probably caused by adrenaline or the cold water.

You shuffle toward the edge and get ready to jump. Harry's gaze never wavers as you daintily leap off, plugging your nose and closing your eyes on the long way down. When you hit the water, a powerful sensation rushes through your body. You glide to the surface and find Harry swimming toward you, his drenched hair plastered to his skin.

The water is at an uncomfortable temperature, so you move briskly to climb back up on the rock the kayak is tied to. Shortly after, Harry lifts himself up, droplets dripping from his body. You dry off with the towel, then hand it to him. Once he finishes, you take your phone out of the backpack and tell him to pose. He presents both middle fingers, sticking his tongue out with a smile. The breathtaking evening view in the background makes the picture ten times more perfect.

"Let's head back," you say after soaking in the skyline. "The wine tasting is at six, and it's a little after five right now."

Harry nods, and you both put your life jackets back on before situating yourselves in the kayak. You untie the knotted rope, push off the rock, and then head toward the coastline. He helps paddle the whole way there, kissing the back of your neck every so often.

Bliss, bliss, bliss.

——

After returning the kayak and packing all the stuff in the car's trunk, Harry says he's going to find a nearby bathroom so he can change into his outfit for the wine tasting. He hands you one of his sweaters out of the bag—a gray crewneck. It's your favorite and still smells like him, no matter how often you've worn it.

You have no idea what outfit he brought; he manages to take it out and quickly runs into a shop while you're distracted by the lively village. Waiting with anticipation in the car, you cozy up, growing tired from the strenuous paddling and calming atmosphere around you.

Five minutes pass before Harry appears, and you immediately laugh at the sight of him. Not because he looks silly, but because his outfit is too fancy for less than an hour of wine tasting in some restaurant's cellar.

"Harry," you say breathily, taking in his outfit. "I'm wearing a sweater, and you're wearing a suit. Where did you even get that?"

It's a bubblegum pink suit left open over a plain white button-up. White dress shoes are on his feet, and he must've fixed his hair in the bathroom mirror.

"Eh?" He spins around. "You like it?"

"You look very handsome, but now I feel severely underdressed. Why didn't you tell me to pack a dress?" You obviously don't have the time to go back to the villa and change, but you're curious as to why Harry didn't say anything about the apparent dress code for tonight.

"I wanted to surprise you, darling. Plus, I know you would be worried about spilling wine on something nice. It's a private tasting, so no one will see you but me and the chef I mentioned."

Harry had booked a wine tasting with a man he'd met when he last visited Italy, the friendly owner of a family-owned restaurant in the village. He has always been able to leave unforgettable impressions on everyone he meets, so the man gladly moved some things around so that he could have you two come to the cellar for an intimate experience.

You sigh, realizing there's no point in arguing. They won't care, so why should you? You have no doubt that Harry will make you feel comfortable once you get there.

"You're right. Hopefully, he doesn't care that I look like I just crawled out of a lake."

"Basta. Sembri un sogno," Harry says, grabbing your hand and tugging you out of the car.

You assume he said something incredibly charming. Your face naturally warms as you distract yourself by picking nonexistent lint off your sleeve before walking the bustling street toward a restaurant called Dahlia. The man Harry knows is waiting by the arched front door with a jovial smile.

"Ciao, Signore Styles!" he greets enthusiastically. "Ah, la tua ragazza. Benvenuto!"

Harry shakes his hand. "Che bello rivederti. Questa è la mia ragazza, sì. Cominciamo, va bene?"

"Yes, yes. Seguitemi, cari."

The two of you follow him through the small, packed restaurant and descend a narrow flight of stairs that leads to a wine cellar. Harry is behind you, his hands on your shoulders to ensure you don't take a tumble. His dress shoes click against the polished wood with each step.

At the bottom, you turn down a dim hallway. Endless wine bottles are meticulously stacked on shelves against the walls. There's a table and chairs, and two wine glasses and napkins are already set neatly on the surface. There's even a plate of bread.

You sit, and Harry does the same. He immediately begins shaking the napkin out and placing it in his lap, like he's done this a million times before. You cross your legs and angle your body toward him, admiring his features in the low, yellowish lighting from the antique wall sconces. He grins handsomely.

The man brings over two bottles of expensive-looking wine, and you think of your preconceived notion of what wine tasting would be like—rolling hills and vineyards in the countryside, getting wine drunk with middle-aged moms wearing patterned blouses, gossiping about their cheating husbands.

Where you are right now is undeniably better. Who wouldn't want to be in a cramped room with their boyfriend, who's wearing a pink suit and looking at you like you're the only thing that exists?

The man fills the wine glasses with an adequate amount of blood-red liquid, then stands back to observe your reactions. Harry spins it around in his glass and sniffs it, acting like he's all fancy. You want to laugh at him, but keep it inside so you don't seem disrespectful. Instead, you bring your glass up to your mouth and take a small sip, tasting wild berries and a hint of an unknown aromatic herb. Harry sips his next, eyes locked on yours the entire time. He smacks his lips after swallowing and exhales, obviously pleased. You roll your eyes at him secretively. He's acting like he owns the place, and it's shameful that you find it attractive.

You rip off a piece of bread from the loaf in front of you and eat it, the buttery dough instantly melting on your tongue. Harry smiles at you, resting his hand on your chair as you rip some more off and offer it to him. He puts it in his mouth and mouths a silent swear, then picks up the entire loaf of bread and inspects it like he's Gordon Ramsey.

"I need the recipe for that," you whisper humorously.

Harry, of course, takes it literally. He beckons the man to come closer and places a friendly hand on his shoulder. "La mia ragazza adora cucinare il pane. Potrei avere questa ricetta per favore? Questo è sorprendente."

"Ovviamente! Tornerò," says the man while hurriedly going upstairs.

You turn to Harry with confusion, needing help understanding the exchange.

"He's getting the recipe for it," he explains. "You can make it before we go home."

"Harry," you say with a sigh. "Stop being so nice. I could've just found an online recipe. What if it's a family recipe that's super important to him?"

"Stop worrying, my love. He doesn't mind."

Before you can respond, the man returns with a tattered recipe book. He opens it to a bookmarked page and sets it in front of you. "Fai una photo, caro. Fammi sapere com'è quando lo fai," he says, pointing at the bread drawing—not a picture—on the weathered page. Was this recipe from medieval times? Goodness gracious.

You can't understand him, so Harry takes your phone out of your pocket and snaps a picture of the handwritten words on the paper. You can't believe this man you just met is so willing to give you a recipe from his own restaurant.

"Grazie," you say shyly. Harry smiles at your sudden bashfulness, scooting closer to you and kissing your head.

The wine tasting continues for the next hour. Throughout the various sips of eclectic flavors, Harry amps up his lovable antics—slowly and dramatically reeling off flavors he gets from the wine and spinning the liquid in the glass so quickly that it spills onto the napkin in his lap.

Anything to see you smile.

After what feels like gallons of wine, you and Harry thank the man for his graciousness and ask if he could drive the car back to the villa since driving back yourselves while tipsy would be idiotic. Harry offers to pay a hefty amount for the favor, and the man happily obliges, saying he will drive it back when he finishes closing the restaurant. Harry hands him the keys before you leave, shaking hands and kissing cheeks with the other chefs on the way out.

You're both wine-drunk—arguably the best kind of drunk—and stumbling on clumsy feet with cheeks that won't stop smiling. It's dark out now, and the streetlights guide you to the Corvette. Harry calls for a taxi, speaking in full Italian, which makes you weak in the knees.

Harry removes his suit jacket after hanging up the phone, leaving the white button-up in all its glory, his tattoos and chest hair peeking out from the few buttons undone. You take your belongings out of the trunk, set them on the ground, and then stand beside Harry. You kiss his chest, nuzzling your cheek against it and closing your eyes. He rubs his hand along your back and begins swaying with you under the streetlight.

You look up at him with glassy eyes and flushed cheeks, admiring his matching appearance. "How do you say 'pretty' in Italian?" you ask, getting lost in his gaze.

Harry pouts, thinking. "Patatina," he replies after a few seconds.

"You're patatina," you say lovingly.

He snorts at your cluelessness, smearing a kiss on your forehead.

"What?" you ask, looking at him with confusion. "Is that not what it means? That's not nice, Harry. What did you just make me say?" You gasp. "Is it something dirty?"

He's still giggling, with crinkled eyes and deep dimples carving his face. You poke his ribs to get him to answer. "Sorry," he says, breathing out a final laugh. "No, it's not dirty. Patatina is a term of endearment I read about in the book I bought. It means little potato."

You stare at him with a deadpan expression, thoughts about why you decided to date this boy running through your head. "Little potato... it's actually kind of cute," you admit, shuffling closer to Harry's warm body. "If you're a patatina, what am I?"

"Cipollino," he murmurs, cradling your face. It translates to 'little onion.' The book said it pairs well with patatina, and we're, like, a pair."

Your nose scrunches. "But an onion, out of everything? That's probably the least romantic vegetable. I want to be rhubarb or something, you know? They taste sweet, and I think... I think I'm pretty sweet. Right, Harry?" The wine is making its way to your dizzy head.

"Correct," he says. "And I'm patatina, not Harry."

"Shut up."

"Kiss me, then. Shut me right up."

You don't question him, lurching forward to give him a searing kiss, fingers hooking in his belt loops. He returns the kiss with the same, if not more, passion. You can taste the residue of wine on his cherry-colored lips, opening his mouth with your tongue to suck on his.

You suddenly hear tires rolling up and turn to see headlights shining on your figures. Great timing, taxi. You part from Harry's swollen lips, short of breath, and hastily pick up your stuff. You hope no one witnessed anything too wild.

Harry hands the driver a wad of cash before he climbs in the backseat. You follow suit. The vehicle drives off into the night, and your head rests on your lover's shoulder the whole way back.

——

The villa looms exquisitely under the starlit sky. You're relatively sure you fell asleep five minutes into the drive. Harry helps your sleepy body out of the car after grabbing all your belongings, then walks you up the driveway. He sets you on the outdoor sofa surrounding the fire pit before disappearing through the sliding door. The whispering breeze makes you shiver and burrow deeper into his sweater, which still clings to your figure.

Harry returns with two wine glasses and a bottle of... cranberry juice?

"If I have any more wine, I'll puke. So, cranberry juice?" he says, his voice rising to a higher octave.

"Sitting by the fire and drinking cranberry juice out of a wine glass with you," you say dreamily while scooting over to make room for him. "I can't think of anything better."

You soak up his company. When he went inside, he changed into grey sweatpants and a matching hoodie, and he looked like such a boyfriend. It's ridiculous. He's always so inviting and lovely. You find yourself wanting to touch him and absorb the warmth he exudes.

Sleep overtakes you again while you're tucked into his side. The next thing you wake up to are silk sheets on the king-size bed. You instinctively curl up to Harry's body beside you. He must have opened the vast bay window that provides an impossible sea view because a beautiful breeze flows over your skin. It has you sinking further into the mattress.

"Want me to get your pajamas?" Harry asks quietly.

You sleepily shake your head, perfectly fine with sleeping in his sweater. However, you do slide off your shorts and bikini bottoms.

You're dozing again when Harry clears his throat. You open your eyes, feeling his heart rate speed up under your cheek.

"I have something special planned for our anniversary tomorrow. It's in the evening, so we have time to do other things. Just letting you know."

"That makes me nervous, but I trust you."

"Tomorrow will be even better than today. I promise."

"Can't wait." You yawn. "Goodnight. Love you."

"I love you more than anything," he says, lightly scratching your back.

You grumble an incoherent response, drifting off to your dreams, which always pale compared to life with the man next to you.

——

The following morning's ambiance consists of Harry's snoring and glorious sunshine pouring through the wind-blown curtains. You must've slept like a rock because the bedside clock reads nine-thirty. You decide to abandon the soft sheets and let Harry get more sleep.

You wrap yourself in your satin robe and pad down the hallway toward the kitchen. One glance at the oven, and you remember the bread recipe from last night. It'd be a pleasant anniversary surprise for Harry, considering his surprise for you is shrouded in mystery. Plus, making bread is oddly therapeutic—the kneading, the delicious smell, the endless possibility of flavors. Luckily, all the simple ingredients are in the pantry, so you can start making the dough.

By the time it's in the oven, Harry is still dead to the world, and the time is nearing eleven. Some days, he'll wake up at the crack of dawn to go on a stupid run, or he'll sleep until noon on the weekends after a long week of work. There's really no in-between.

While the bread bakes, you clean up the mess on the counters before sitting at the kitchen table to aimlessly scroll through your phone. Another twenty minutes pass before you hear feet shuffling against the hardwood floor. You glance up to find a puffy-eyed Harry rubbing his face. He's wearing black swim trunks, and that's about it, except for the sunglasses on top of his head.

He bends down and kisses your cheek. "Buongiorno, mio piccolo cuoco," he says, his voice as raspy as the slight mustache above his lip that seems to have grown overnight.

"More like good afternoon." You shut your phone off and set it aside. "Did you sleep well?"

"Mm, the best I have in ages," he answers, scratching his stomach. He then smiles lazily, his eyes looking more awake. "Happy anniversary."

"Three whole years. I don't know how I've gone putting up with you this long."

"Hey. I can go back to bed if you want," he says, pointing his thumb toward the bedroom.

"No, stay," you plead softly. "By the way, I'm making that bread recipe. It's my present to you for being an average boyfriend."

"Being sassy this morning, are we?"

"You love it."

"Got that right," Harry mutters, nosily peering into the oven. He sniffs the bread dramatically and whistles impressively before shutting the oven door. The mouthwatering aroma reminds you of wandering the Italian streets yesterday.

"Going for a swim?"

"Yeah. Join me?"

"I will once the bread is done." You stand and send him on his way with a peck on his lips. "Go ahead. I'll make you a fruit platter."

"Dragonfruit, please?" he requests, opening the sliding door that leads to the infinity pool.

"Got it. Don't forget to put sunscreen on!"

He gives you a thumbs up, leaving the door open to welcome the pleasant breeze. You grab hot pads and take the finished bread out, setting it on the cooling rack before turning the oven off. While it cools, you change into a swimsuit, tie a chiffon wrap skirt around your hips, and then arrange a platter.

You gather the cubed fruit you've both been eating the past couple of days—cantaloupe, watermelon, strawberries, and, per Harry's request, dragonfruit. He wanted to buy some after his wonderful mother grew it in her garden. Then, you precisely arrange the fruit in a circle on a floating breakfast tray that can go in the pool, keeping the middle open for slices of buttered bread. You sincerely hope it tastes close enough to what you ate yesterday.

Lastly, you fill glasses with orange juice before carefully heading outside to keep Harry company. You see him floating on his back, arms open, and eyes closed. You set the platter down on a table and tiptoe to the edge of the pool.

To hell with it. You're going to scare him to get him back after trying to tip the kayak yesterday. It's only fair, right?

He's oblivious to everything around him, a peaceful glow on his face. You almost feel bad for deciding to disturb it—especially on your anniversary—but what good is a relationship without a bit of havoc?

You mull over what you could possibly do to frighten him. Maybe throw a cantaloupe piece at him or pretend the car came back destroyed. These are two vastly different ends of the mischief spectrum, and ultimately, the latter is the obvious choice—and the most fun.

"Harry?" you say quietly, changing your expression to make it seem like you're distraught.

"Yeah?" he replies, keeping his eyes closed.

"Um, your friend from yesterday just dropped the car off. Harry, it's—"

His eyes snap open, picking up on your wavering and anxious tone. He stops floating and swims over to where you're standing by the edge.

"What's wrong? Talk to me. Did something happen? Are you okay?" he asks worriedly, his eyes darting between your face and body to check for any signs.

"The car," you whisper, mustering up fake tears. Harry instinctively holds your ankle, his thumb rubbing soothing circles. "It's destroyed. It looks like it got into an accident. What are we going to do?"

"Seriously? What the hell? How... I don't..." He heaves himself out of the pool and begins walking around the villa toward the driveway. He looks like he's about to punch something, so you suppress your laughter and decide to end the game.

You grab his wrist, spinning him around. He stares at you with panic, and now you feel bad. "I'm kidding, baby. I'm just messing with you. The car is fine. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you repeat, clasping his cheeks and laughing.

His jaw drops. "You're so mean."

"I'm just getting you back for yesterday. Them's the rules."

"Yeah, but you've been quite sassy all morning, hmm? First, you called me an average boyfriend. Then you didn't even kiss me good morning. That hurts my heart."

"You were completely passed out. How would you have known if I kissed you good morning or not?"

"I can always tell. They bring me back to life."

"Shut up," you scoff, grabbing the platter. "Here's some fruit and homemade bread as a peace offering. Take it or leave it."

"Feed me in the pool, and I'll consider your offer."

"Fine. I'm not getting in, though. I want to sunbathe for a bit.

Harry dramatically rolls his eyes and dives back in. When he emerges, he swims to the edge. You sit down with the platter and let it float next to him before putting your feet in the tepid water. You pick up a slice of bread and hold it to Harry's awaiting mouth. He places your legs over his shoulders, his arms hooking around your upper thighs.

Someone's needy today.

He tosses the bread into his mouth, his eyes rolling back like they did in the wine cellar yesterday. He borderline moans at the taste, his jaw flexing with each chew. After he swallows, he leaves grateful kisses on your thighs. "Deliziosa," he murmurs, paired with more nipping and kissing. You know he's not talking about the bread. The 'a' he added to the end of the word makes it feminine. He's not slick.

Before you both get carried away—wanting to save your pent-up tension for later—you feed him a plethora of fruit before deciding to make both of you an actual meal. You're starving, so you'll catch some sun later.

Harry whines at the loss of contact. You use your foot to push his chest until he's floating on his back again. He throws you a peace sign before you head back inside.

As you whip up a quick breakfast, you watch your boyfriend from the door, appreciating his sunkissed body and tattoos. You smile and think about how time has flown by with him in the most remarkable way.

Three years, and hopefully a lifetime more.

——

You're nervous.

You don't have the faintest idea what Harry's surprise is. All he's said is to dress nicely and not eat anything yet. Maybe he's taking you out to dinner? Or perhaps you'll walk downtown together and stop at vendors. You're stumped. He's annoyingly good at keeping secrets.

It's nearing seven as you add the finishing touches to your makeup. Harry is in the bathroom spraying cologne on his neck, looking casually handsome in a flowing, off-white button-up. He's paired it with matching cotton shorts and sneakers that need washing. You keep telling him to clean them, but he ignores your pleading and claims the dirt gives them character.

A short cherry-colored dress with puffed sleeves adorns your body. Red lipstick to match. Hair loose. The necklace Harry bought you for your last anniversary is glimmering against your neck.

Harry comes behind you in the vanity mirror as you apply a final coat of mascara and starts soothingly scratching your upper back. He can probably sense you're feeling nervous, knowing you don't particularly like surprises. However, you think he looks undeniably handsome, with his new tan and stubble pulling you into his coziness. Somehow, just looking at him eases your nerves.

"Gorgeous," he whispers.

You smooth any remaining wrinkles out of your dress. "Thank you. I'm almost done."

"Take your time," he replies, squeezing your shoulders. "I'll start the car."

You make sure your makeup is smudge-free and then shut the bedroom light off on your way to the front door. Harry is waiting by the passenger side of the Corvette with a distracted look on his face. When he finally sees you coming, he opens the door for you. This time, you accept his gentlemanlike gesture.

He drives to an unknown destination, taking the backroads. You can't even guess where you're headed since everything outside the villa is unfamiliar.

Ten minutes later, Harry slows down and turns right toward what appears to be a small seaside forest. He drives along the path leading through the trees until a hidden beach area eventually reveals itself. He parks the car while you're speechless at the sight before you. The only things on the sand are a round table with two chairs surrounded by tiki torches.

No one else is here. If Harry tells you he rented the entire beach, you'll kill him.

"I rented this portion of the beach for the night."

Of course.

"You're ridiculous," you say, taking in your surroundings. "Thank you, Harry. This is a wonderful surprise."

He ducks his head bashfully. "C'mon, let's eat."

You follow him to the table and sit on the wicker chair across from him. In front of you is a plate of stuffed ravioli with a side of roasted asparagus, cooked just how you like them. Harry has vegan fettuccine Alfredo with peas—a lot of peas. A gagworthy amount.

"I'm floored right now," you say, overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness. "I can't believe you did all this without me knowing."

"I'm a sneaky guy. There were lots of secret phone calls while you were in the shower or swimming in the pool.

You take your sandals off and enjoy the cool sand between your toes. "Yeah, I bet. I'm not even going to ask how much it costs to rent this part of the beach."

"It's not important," he says. "Let's eat, shall we? And talk me through this little outfit you have on. Why on earth haven't I seen you wear it yet?"

Then, both of you eat, talk, and watch the waves glide on the shore. The sun is dipping past the horizon, turning the sky a violet shade with splashes of fading orange. You talk Harry's ear off about random stuff in your life and humorous anecdotes since the trip started. His body naturally leans toward you to give you his undivided attention. He listens the entire time, eyes on you with his chin in the palm of his hand, except for when he pops some spearmint gum into his mouth after finishing his truckload of peas.

After you finish rambling, you wait for him to start talking your ear off. He can usually drone on and on about anything for hours, but right now, he's just sitting and staring at the sunset.

"You're quiet," you point out, gently poking his arm with your fork.

"Just thinking."

"About what?"

He sighs longingly before saying, "I know we still have more than enough time here, but I kind of don't want to leave. I love it here so much. This is the happiest I've ever been."

Your heart melts. "I feel the same way. I could stay here forever and never get bored of it. Especially with you by my side."

Harry finally looks at you, his eyes holding something unreadable yet powerful. He stands abruptly and reaches his hand out. "Let's walk for a bit," he says with a tone that kicks your anxiety into high gear.

You grasp his hand, and he leads you along the shoreline, your feet getting wet whenever the tide washes up. It's quiet except for the pesky seagulls, crashing waves, and salty breeze. Where you are right now makes you want to bottle up the memory so you can keep the feeling forever, replay this trip, and relive the most joyous moments of your life.

Harry eventually stops, facing you with both hands holding yours tightly. He looks... pale. Are his hands shaking, or are you imagining things? Is he about to pass out from sunstroke? Did he eat too many peas?

He clears his throat and visibly gulps, squinting at the sky and exhaling quickly. His feet shuffle nervously. An incomprehensible thought zings to the front of your brain.

Is he about to do what you think he's about to do?

"I might cry and possibly throw up, so please bear with me," he says, his voice shaky.

You just stare at him, unable to say anything. Then he begins lowering himself on one knee, and you just about go down with him.

He removes his hands from yours and takes something out of his pocket. It's a velvet ring box, pink and delicate.

You gasp as Harry opens his mouth, his watery eyes trained on nothing but you. "I love you with all my heart. I'm weak for the things you do, and it consumes me to the point where I feel like I might burst from loving you so much. Every word you speak or smile you give me makes me fall for you deeper and deeper. And you love me back. You love me better than anyone. And I realized when we first met that you're someone I not only want in this life but also need. You're the only one for me, and I'll take care of you, support you, and love you so thoroughly until you get sick of me. I'm rambling now, so I'll shut up and cut to the chase. I want to be your husband. Will you marry me? Please? Il mio cuore è solo tuo. If you want it, it's yours."

Harry finishes his speech by opening the ring box to reveal a silver oval-cut ring that takes your breath away. A tear trails down your cheek as your lips wobble. You nod your head what feels like a thousand times. "Yes. Yes, I'll marry you. Holy shit."

He laughs beautifully, his eyes squinting so much that the captured tears in his waterline spill over. He stands and shakily puts the ring on the correct finger. It fits perfectly.

You cup his cheeks and bring his face toward yours. "I love you," you say while kissing his flushed and tear-stained cheeks. "You're so sneaky. I wasn't expecting this until you looked like you were going to pass out in front of me."

"Be glad I didn't throw up on your dress."

"That's true." Suddenly, everything hits you. Harry, we're going to get married."

He smiles with unbridled happiness, nodding before picking you up and running into the sea. The splashes he makes strike you with cold splatters, and you squeal, but it quickly turns into uncontrollable laughter when Harry spins you around and dips you toward the water. You squirm with resistance and manage to escape his arms. He stumbles from the waves but remains upright, then stares at you intensely for three seconds before kissing your lips like they're his life source.

"My fiancée," he says, kissing down your face to your neck. "I adore you."

"Can we"—you whimper breathily—"go back to the villa and celebrate? Some wine, dessert, and... maybe some other things."

He can't propose to you while looking this good and expect you not to jump his bones.

"Sì, mi amore."

——

At the villa, palpable tension lingers in the air and throughout your body. The adrenaline from what just happened is still coursing through your blood as Harry makes a beeline straight to the master bedroom. It's only right to follow with shallow breaths and a hammering heartbeat.

Approaching the bedroom, you see Harry already taking off his shirt. You walk over and lie on the bed, waiting for him to initiate the celebration. You're usually the one who likes to be in control, but being the sexually dominant type calls for preparation and the right kind of mood. Now, at this moment, all you want is to writhe in pleasure on silk sheets and feel Harry's touch everywhere.

You're already impatiently aroused because of Harry's teasing on the drive back. His fingers were stroking the inside of your thigh, traveling up, up, up until they reached dangerous territory. He'd start to pull away after realizing how wet you already were, but you would trap his hand with your thighs, making him groan. Two could play at that game.

Now, Harry saunters over to you in nothing but his cotton shorts. His tanned skin looks tempting in the muted lamplight. The rest of the lights are off, and the moon is brightly shining in the indigo sky.

"Ready for me?" he asks lowly, hungrily glancing over your body.

You nod and bend your knees. Harry lies on his stomach and gets between your legs, his hands gripping your upper thighs with fervor. He must've put his rings on when you weren't looking. He knows you love the feeling of them. You're not picky as to where.

"Gonna let me take care of you?"

"Please. Please, Harry."

"Patience, my love. Let me see you."

"I'm right here. Do something. Please, I need you."

He shushes you with a soft timbre, scooting closer to where you need him the most. He lifts your dress, bunches the material up by your stomach, and then readjusts his grip on your thighs. His lips trail closer to your lace underwear, and he looks at you under his eyelashes. His eyes ground you, make you nervous, and leave you spellbound. Maintaining eye contact with him is hard when you know you'll come undone way too quickly from just his intense gaze. You're not giving him the benefit of that. Not tonight, at least.

Instead, you stare at the vaulted ceiling and gasp when his lips graze over your underwear. Soft, purposeful movements have you closing your thighs around your head as a reflex. Open-mouthed kisses over your wet lace drive you crazy. You're clenching and internally soliciting for him to just do something.

"Stop teasing," you say firmly, still not looking at him.

"Don't be bossy."

"I'm not being bossy. You're my fiancé, so you're supposed to be nice to me."

He moves your underwear to the side. "Yeah? Does my fiancée want me to be nice to her? I'm always nice, baby. I'm always good for you; you know that."

"You are. It's true. The nicest man I've ever known. No one has even come close." You squirm with impatience. "Just take them off."

Harry doesn't waste any time, propping himself up to slide the material down your legs. You lift your ankles above his head to fling them off, then plant your feet back on the mattress and spread them wide open so he can resume.

His mouth immediately latches onto your clit, sucking it, and his nose fits perfectly above it. You moan loudly, your back arching and your hands grasping his neck. You have to look at him now and watch him take care of you like only he knows how. When you do, it's like a sight straight from heaven. His brows are drawn in, his eyes shut, and his pink lips bring you pleasure in the most intimate way.

Harry continues sucking before soothing his tongue along your entrance. Without warning, he removes his mouth and replaces it with his fingers. He dives two of them in, curling them in a way that makes you inhale sharply. His mouth occupies itself with kissing the inside of your thighs, biting little marks so you can remember this experience.

The feeling of both his fingers and mouth is overwhelming, and your hand can't help but involuntarily pull his hair.

"God," he mumbles against your thigh. "Do that again, baby."

You pull harder, and a deep, raspy moan leaves his mouth. He begins kissing across your body while his fingers continue to bring you to your peak. He adds a third as he nips your waist, his head exploring under your bunched-up dress. He props one arm up to hover himself over you. You look at him with lustful eyes, your mouth parted, and soft moans escape when he hits a particular spot. He smears a messy kiss on your lips, and you try your best to return it as his fingers thrust in and out of you.

An orgasm quickly forms in your lower stomach. Harry massages your clit with the pad of his thumb to bring you there, knowing your body and when you're about to let go like the back of his hand. He grinds against the bed to soothe his own arousal. He's been hard since your act in the car, having felt your thighs clench around his hands, his fingers so close to his favorite spot. He apparently couldn't help himself.

When Harry hits that final spot that has you crying out, you arch your back and let go. Your eyes squeeze shut as you moan from the delightful pressure freely flowing out of your body.

Harry places his mouth back on yours as you finish, removing his fingers from inside you and gripping your hips, leaving a coat of your arousal on the love bites left there. Your body is strong enough to lift yourself on your elbows and leave marks on Harry's neck. He grunts when you bite the sensitive skin below his earlobe and grinds against the bed once more, stilling and then shuddering through a fierce release.

Oh. He came from that one touch.

He falls flat on the bed, cupping himself and breathing heavily. There's a damp spot on his shorts. It's a filthy sight.

"That was embarrassing. I'm sorry," Harry murmurs, his cheek pressed against the pillow. "I thought I'd be able to last."

You brush some sweaty hair off his forehead. "It's fine. I don't have to do any work now."

"Hilarious," he says monotonously. He suddenly jumps up from the bed and shuffles to the bathroom, confusing you. You hear him wash his hands and then turn on the jacuzzi. He returns with a clean pair of boxers and smoothly lifts you from the bed. Your dress covers your exposed state, yet it doesn't hide the slick feeling between your legs. The warm water will feel amazing.

Harry gently sets you on the sink counter as the tub fills up. He grabs a washcloth and dips it under the faucet before cleaning you. It's comfortably silent, with only rushing water in the background.

When the jacuzzi is adequately filled, Harry helps you stand and remove your dress. Once naked, you quickly go to the bathroom while Harry removes his boxers. He then leads you to the jacuzzi to sit down. When he climbs in, you cling onto him for a cuddle as sleepiness washes over you. Harry presses a button to turn the jets on. Everything feels so lovely.

"I can't believe you said yes," he says.

"You knew I would. How could I possibly say no to you after a speech like that?"

"Dunno. We're, like, together forever now." He rubs the ring on your finger. "Well, not yet. But when we actually get married, it's a lifetime with each other. It's wild to think about, but I want nothing more."

"I get what you mean," you say, scrubbing the red lipstick stains on his neck with the pads of your fingers. "I want this with you too."

When you softly rub around his lips, he kisses your finger and looks at you with disbelief. You pluck his swollen bottom lip with your thumb, then lean in to plant a truthful kiss there.

Everything with him is so simple. Every touch is meaningful. Every unspoken word holds the weight of a million words. Every laugh leaves you teary-eyed with a heart full of love.

He is pure love. What he gives so naturally is exactly what he is.

Once your skin turns wrinkly and the water becomes lukewarm, you and Harry get out and dry yourselves off. He retreats to the bedroom to grab pajamas. When he returns, you put on an oversized shirt and walk out of the bathroom after draining the tub, running toward the bed and bellyflopping on it like a kid. Harry shuts the bedroom light off and flops beside you, letting out a long and blissful sigh.

"I'm hungry," he says.

You snort. "You ate a million peas not even an hour ago. How are you still hungry?"

"Sex makes me hungry. And stop making fun of my love of peas. Hey, can you get the cantaloupe? I'm knackered."

His rapid change of topics makes you laugh. "Anything for you, pea boy."

You hear him faintly whine at your new nickname for him as you stroll into the kitchen. You open the refrigerator to grab a bowl of cantaloupe cubes and then return. Harry's eyes are fluttering shut, and his limbs are spread out on the mattress. You climb over him, sitting against the headboard, as he blindly reaches his hand for some fruit. He chews against the pillow, his cheeks squishing adorably.

"Thanks," he mumbles with his mouth full.

"Mm-hmm. I'm going to sleep. I'll put the bowl on the nightstand for you."

Once you've moved the cantaloupe, you scoot down and lie on your back. Harry keeps reaching for the bowl without moving his head, sometimes missing entirely and waving his hand around to find it. You eventually close your eyes, a smile making its way to your face when you realize you'll wake up tomorrow as an engaged woman next to your future husband.

Harry finishes all the fruit in the bowl and then turns off the lamp. He tugs you against his chest, and you exhale happily, his warmth effortlessly pulling you under into a deep sleep.

——

Two Weeks Later

After situating yourself in the airplane seat, you pull out your phone and open Instagram. You and Harry are on your way back from Italy. It was an unforgettable two weeks together, and not one day went by without you making new memories.

You had told only the closest people to you about the engagement—your parents and Harry's. No one else knows, so you decided to announce the news with an Instagram post. You wanted to wait until after vacation to worry about making phone calls and giving details about how it happened.

Now, you start creating a post on the fourteen-hour flight to California. You already know what picture to use—Harry cutely holding a bottle of wine along the lusciously green countryside, ready for a picnic date in a park. Also with an impressive mustache. Throughout the ten days after the engagement, Harry decided to grow his faint mustache into a full-fledged one. You don't know how it grew so fast, honestly. You also didn't know how to feel about it at first, but you're accustomed to liking it now. It makes him look mature.

How it feels between your thighs—well, that's a story for another day.

Harry has chosen to post a picture of the ring, gleaming brilliantly in the pink velvet box. And with him being the artsy, moderately strange social media poster, he had to add something extra to the picture—a paint swatch. Both of you spontaneously went paint shopping one day when you got bored in the villa. You had been talking to him for months about redoing the bathroom at the house, so you went to a local paint store to look at different options. Harry, being the sentimental and cheesy man he is, suggested painting it the color of the ring box he proposed with. You remember thinking the diluted pink would complement the white tiles and granite counter of the master bathroom perfectly.

You couldn't possibly refuse the idea, especially since it would always remind you of that special evening on the beach.

You had searched with him to find a color that resembled the box, all while goofing around and laughing at the bizarrely specific names of the swatches. You pointed to a light green swatch appropriately named Peapod and told Harry he should paint the kitchen that color since he loves peas so much. He pouted at you and dramatically walked down another aisle. Typical. And so sensitive about his peas!

Harry is sleeping beside you, his head snugly settled on a pillow propped against the airplane window while soft snores escape his mouth. You'll wait for him to wake up so you can both post at the same time. As for now, you rest your head on his shoulder to also take a nap. Harry stirs and drowsily slaps his hand onto your knee to keep you close.

You'll miss Italy's golden sunsets, good-natured people, and ethereal views. However, the thought of going home and beginning a new chapter with your fiancé doesn't sound too bad.

Bliss, in all its glory, takes hold once again.

——

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles au #harry styles #adore-laur #pink velvet

142 notes · View notes

mrsmneme · 3 months

Text

A precious trip we have yearned for

for Ignoctweek2024 SFW Day 4 : Marriage Life (Proposal, Wedding, Honeymoon)

Warning : Angst with Romance

"It's been a long time since we sneaked out of Citadel together, right?" Noctis asked. He was driving his restored Regalia, his eyes still focused on the road ahead.

His question made Ignis smile while he was recalling his beautiful memories. As far as he could remember, the young Crown Prince of Lucis had had his retainer drive him out of the Citadel for a breath of fresh air on a weekly basis. Doing so had been enjoyable, and become much more delightful when the retainer had been aware of his affection for the prince.

Teenagers' chilling out could not compare to husbands' three-day trip at all, but they shared some similar vibes.

"If you mean going out together and completely alone, then yes." He replied, smiling at his beloved husband. "I'm so grateful and excited. But you don't have to bother planning the trip and driving me there yourself."

"You're buried in tons of work night and day. If it's not me, no one can drag you out." The King chuckled. "Besides, we never had a honeymoon yet."

He did not drive too fast. So they could take thier time to chitchat and enjoy beautiful sceneries. Noctis parked at a seaside rest stop with a nice garden nearby. He invited Ignis to stroll around and take some photos.

Ignis did miss this moment, when his gorgeous husband was in front of him in a picture-perfect scenery. The King looked fully relaxed today. He did not grow facial hair anymore. Doing so made him look much younger and, in Ignis' point of view, more beautiful. He took lots of photos of him. Noctis did likewise before pulled his husband close to take a self portrait.

The second rest stop to visit was a few kilometers from their destination. "This coffeeshop is highly rated. Want to try?" Noctis asked. He had researched so much. No doubt Ignis easily agreed. They made an order of a medium dark roasted black coffee for Ignis, a mocha coffee for Noctis and some pastries. The coffee and pastries were superb. Ignis enjoyed them so much that he asked Noctis to revisit the shop on the way back.

They arrived their destination, a luxury seaside hotel which they had never been. It was almost unbelievable to see a fast restoration to a perfect grandeur condition. "The restoration could be done this fast. Thanks to your hard work too, Iggy." Noctis told him when he admired the owners.

They dined in a private room of the hotel's restaurant. The atmosphere was perfect with soothing background music. The hotel did have a highly skilled kitchen brigade, every recipe was exceptionally tasty, and paired with fine wine. Noctis enjoyed fresh roasted seafood so much while Ignis tried so hard to identify the ingredients of their divine dipping sauce.

After their delightful dinner, they felt a bit full so they decided to went for a walk on the beach. The sky was clear with plenty of stars and pale cloud of milky way. They walked leisurely, chatted and smiled. Noctis grabbed Ignis' hand when cool breeze brushed throught them. Ignis held his hand back. And when he looked at his husband again with the starry sky behind him, he gently squeezed his hand and stepped closer until their shoulders brushed, as he realized he was so lucky to be loved by this man. After everything they had been through in order to be together, now he was here holding his hand, he would never let him go again.

When they were back in their room, it was Ignis' turn to take care. There were various scents of massage oil, aromatic shower gel, shampoo, bath bombs and cologne available in the bathroom. Ignis carefully chose and blended them for extra alluring and soothing effect for his exhaushed husband. First, he gave Noctis a brief massage to stretch and relax his neck and shoulder muscles. Then he prepared aromatic warm water in a round bathtub for him. Soaking in circular bath could enhance aromatherapy effects of scented warm water. And he would gave him a full body massage after that. It worked flawlessly. Noctis was so relaxed and sleepy but he tried so hard to stay awake. He rested his head on Ignis' shoulder as they lain cuddling peacefully in bed. The older man caressed his scalp and hair as they chatted. He felt like he still had so much stories to share with his husband who was never done listiening to him. They talked, smiled and laughted for a long while until the King eventually fell asleep.

In the dead of the night, though he was so tired but Ignis was still awake. He caressed his beloved husband's black hair and enjoyed the mesmerizing look of the man in his arms. In the dimmed light, he could see his beautiful thick eyelashes so well. He looked much more mature after coming back from the crystal. His eyebrows were thicker, his babyfat disappeared so his gorgeous cheekbones and jawline were easily noticeable. He now had wrinkles under his eyes but his eyelashes were almost the same, the most attractive eyelashes he had ever seen. But whether he would look, he was, and always was, his beloved Noctis.

"Too happy to sleep?" Noctis asked with a sleepy voice.

"I suppose I am." Ignis whispered, tugging strands of his husband's hair behind his ear.

"Glad you like it." The King smiled, caressing his husband's jawline.

"Thanks for this dream trip, Noct. I didn't realize I have yearned for it for a long time."

"You get what you deserve, Iggy. This can't compare to what you've done for me and burdens you've shared with me."

"It's always my pleasure. Your safety and happiness are my utmost priorities. I can sacrifice all of mine or endure everything awaited to see your smile."

"Thanks. But if you don't have a nice day off, how can I see your brilliant smile?" The King left a kiss on his husband's lips. "The most beautiful smile in the world."

Ignis woke up into darkness with a small degrees of light. He blinked a few times until he was certain about his current situation. Tears pooled and started dropping from the corners of his eyes. Ignis let them flow to his pillow, the one that had used to be Noctis'. He buried his head in the pillow and sob quietly as he realized that he had woken alone in the Crown Prince's bedroom in the Citadel. The room had a side door leading to the royal retainer's bedroom, so he had been able to keep their secrets about them sharing a bed. Noctis had usually told him that doing so had made him sleep more soundly.

After daybreak, he, as well as other Council's members, had come back and rebuilt the Citadel. He had claimed this bedroom to be his own and restored it to original condition. The decoration reminded him of his precious old memories, especially ones about King Noctis who had sacrificed his life saving the world.

The alarm went off. Ignis snoozed it and lain down, letting himself cry for a bit longer. The sweeter dream he had dreamt, the more severe heartbroken he felt as he realized such dream would never come true. When the alarm rang again, he wiped his tears and got up. He had lots of work awaited and a Council's meeting to attend.

He arrived his office before 7 a.m., as he always did. His assistants had already prepared reports and plans for him. He started working by examining the Citadel's daily progression reports and cash flow statement while he was sipping his first cup of coffee. He had to finish all reports before analyzing enormous number of requests and plans sent to the Citadel, and then the upcoming meeting's agenda, in order to make comments and conclusions for all of them.

He finished listening to the agenda shortly after his lunch, then he attended the Council's meeting at 1 p.m. All members, including Marshal Cor Leonis and Gladiolus Amiticia, now the Shield of Lucis, rose from their seats when he arrived. Ignis greeted them and started the meeting.

Being the Council's chairman was not what he had expected. He had been trained to be Noctis' hand and advisor, so he had always imagined his older self sitting by Noctis' side and providing him all available information at the meeting. Even after he knew his lover's fate, he had not figured out. Because he had not dared imagining about his life after losing the one whom he loved the most.

During world of ruins, He had waited for him, wishing to touch him and hear his voice again. When they had reunited in Hammerhead. His dream had come true. They fell into each other's arms, caressing and whispering all sweet words they could.

After ten-year disappearing, Noctis had much more to catch up. Moreover, his comrades found that their King was over exhausted and dehydrated, so they ask him to rest for a more few days before their departure.

The four of them chatted a lot about their past and plans in their future. Ignis found that Noctis usually chose to play along when they talked about their plans in the future. He might know he would not survive his final mission. When Cor visited him hours later, they talked about how he and his team managed the city and organized the hunters and guards. The Marshal could barely handle all burdens and implied that he was so glad to welcome his King. But Noctis confirmed that he was destined to sacrifice himself on the throne of Lucis. Although he could help consulting him but he could not lend him a hand after his mission completed. His affirmation led to an unexpectedly heartbroken atmostphere among them, especially Gladiolus and Prompto.

After the Marshal's leaving, three of them embraced him firmly. Prompto fumbled his thanks and apology to him, Gladiolus shed his tears while telling him again and again how he was the best but Ignis just gently wrapped his arm around his lover's shoulders without a word. Noctis returned hugs to all of them. He looked calm. But Ignis could feel some anxiety in his voice, something that showed he was uneasy.

After spending hours crying, the brothers' feelings were better. They decide to make every moment together more pleasurable. They changed the subject to memorable or joyful ones, which could make them smile. They laughed a lot during their dinner and they promised to have another joyful day before they parted.

But Ignis could still feel some concern in Noctis' voice and gestures, so when they were alone in their caravan, he wrapped his hand around his lover's waist and asked.

"What's on your mind, Noct?"

"For years Astrals prepared me for my callings but my duties as a King." He sighed, holding his lover's hand in his own. "Would you mind if I ask you for something selfish, like I'll trouble you again?"

"No, and I never would. Just go ahead." Ignis turned his head towards his lover, his free hand caressing his cheek. He could feel the tension from his jaw.

Eventually, Noctis poured his heart out. "What if I, umm, ask you to marry me?"

"May I ask you for your reason?" He asked quietly.

"Because of our status, you always tell me that you're fine to be just my secret love. You never ask for your special status or announcing our relationship, let alone wedding plan. For me, your love and your care are much more than I can asked. And I'll be ok to stay like this all my life if you want to. But I'm a king. My country is in a mess. It'll be my responsibility to restore it but I can't do it myself cause I have to die first. And it's so hard to find someone doing it for me cause I don't have any relative, not even a Council's member to take charge for me. And, you know, Cor accepted that he and his team can't do it without your help." He cleared his throat. "I'll need someone inherit and manage my family's stuff during rebuilding our country. Someone who'll gain most respect and always have the final say. And I trust you." He gently squeezed his lover's hand. "You were trained to be my advisor. You know full well how to operate the city and perhaps the whole country. And you are my love, my only love of my life." He cupped his lover's cheek. Then he continued with slightly trembling voice. "We've been together for so long. It's time to treasure our love more. Would you be also my husband who'll take all my stuff after my death?"

"When I told you, 'Don't be afraid to let us share the load', I meant it, and I've never changed my mind. So I'll say yes." He leaned closer until their foreheads touched. "I'll restore our beloved country with sufficient use of your legacy and utmost diligence. You have my word, my love and my King."

"Thank you." Noctis whispered, pulling his lover to a kiss. His tears ran down his cheeks to wet Ignis' hand. The older man wiped them gently from his cheeks as they broke the kiss. The younger man kissed his palm, tears running down one after another.

"I used to doubt why lots of lovers cry during their proposal scenes. But, now, me too." He chuckled.

"It's alright to cry tears of joy, isn't it?" Ignis' smile widened as he pulled his husband-to-be to another kiss.

Gladio, Prompto and Cor were informed in the next morning. They helped preparing a simplest wedding ceremony, exchanging rings and vows. Noctis found his casual royal ring, a classic black one with a small black and silver Lucis emblem, in his retrieved luggage. While Ignis had a crownsguard Insignia ring, the symbol of crownsguard training completion. Both rings were not designed to be exchanged in a wedding ceremony, but they were wholeheartedly accepted by both of them.

All Cor's administrative team and the Council's member-to-be were invited to the ceremony. Prompto took a lot of photos, as he would need them to introduce Ignis' new status. Upon his request, The King would not grant him any Royal title. But he would still carry his name, as Mr. Ignis Stupeo Scientia-Caelum, The King's husband.

After the ceremony, they had another night to prepare for their final mission. Then they headed to Insomnia, fighting daemons and Ardyn with all their might, until the darkness was dispersed at a cost of King Noctis' life.

Cor and all volunteers moved to Insomnia and started rebuilding as soon as they could. Since no one claimed the throne, they decided to form the Council as the only administrative body of the country. And they agreed unanimously to choose Ignis, The Late King's widower and only heir, to be the Lord Chancellor and the head of the Council.

Everyone put as much efforts as they could to restore their beloved country. Ignis was the one who worked hardest. He kept himself being buried under his work. He worked between 12 to 16 hours a day, with 2 shifts of assistants.

Such routine had worsened his health. But The rebuilding and restoration's pace had been very fast. So the Lord Chancellor had insisted on working, as keeping his promise.

It was almost 6 pm when the Council's meeting was over. All members were back to their places. Ignis decided to have some fresh air at the citadel's rooftop before returning to his office. The sun was not set. He could still sense some degrees of light.

Nowadays sunlight reminded him of the King of Kings, the man who had sacrificed his life to bring it back. He was the one he always missed. His sweet dream last night had made him miss him more.

Their marrying had been for the sake of their country. Their time together had been numbered. So they had never honeymooned. But he had not realized that he had yearned for it so much. Maybe his subconscious mind had tried to comfort himself by arranging a wish-fulfillment dream.

But he was curious about his appearance. He knew 30-year-old Noctis had looked much more mature with his facial hair, more resembling his father, as shown in his vision. But Noctis in his dream had not looked that mature. He had had no facial hair at all, and that had made him look slightly more mature than his 20-year-old self, the look that he had never seen, or expected before.

Was it the evidence of how he became in the afterlife now? Ignis did not have any proof of it and would never have.

But how Noctis had talked had been a bit odd too. He had often, too often, made comments about his hard working, his fatigue and the restoration's effeciency while they had had a delightful belated honeymoon trip.

Ignis knew that a lot of people had shown their concern about his health problems. Gladiolus and Cor had often warned him not to kill himself working that hard. He understood but seemed not to care.

'But if you don't have a nice day off, how can I see your brilliant smile? The most beautiful smile in the world.' Noctis had sometimes known the best way to persuade him and make his heart melt. And he could remember full well how he had done.

Perhaps his subconscious mind had done its best to arrange the most reliable warning and most relaxing dream to him. But if he still believed that such dream had been a message from his Noctis, it would be alright, too.

He kissed his wedding ring, recalling his memories about the one who had put the ring on his finger. The Lord Chancellor smiled and whispered his reply to his beloved late husband.

'Noct,

I hope you're doing well.

The restoration is still in progress. We've made it faster than I imagined, but our to-do list is still very, very long.

It might take some decades. Please keep waiting.

About the last night dream trip, was it really you?

If yes, it means the world. I did enjoy it.

Would you please take me there again when I join you at the other side?

I'll try not to push myself too hard. I promise.

Love you always.

Ignis.'