Can you do a spicy one with reader and hincapie where they get married and then they have a spicy night.
Eternal Vows & Midnight Flames🔥 (Part 2 is here!)
This one is extra spicy anon! So here you go🥵
FLUFF/ SMUT- On their wedding night in a luxurious Ecuadorian villa overlooking the ocean, newlyweds Piero Hincapié and his devoted partner finally give in to the passion they’ve been saving for this perfect moment.
The golden sunset had painted the sky in hues of orange and pink as you exchanged vows earlier that day, surrounded by close family, friends, and the gentle roar of the Pacific Ocean.
Piero Hincapié, your husband now, had looked devastatingly handsome in his tailored suit, very tall, and handsome with his athletic build honed from years of defending. His dark hair was neatly styled, but a few strands had fallen loose by the time he slipped the ring onto your finger, his left foot (his stronger one on the pitch) shifting slightly with nervous energy.
Now, hours later, the reception lights had dimmed, laughter and toasts replaced by the rhythmic crash of waves against the cliffs below your exclusive villa perched high on the coast near Esmeraldas. The air was warm and salty, carrying the faint scent of tropical flowers from the gardens…
Piero stood by the open floor-to-ceiling windows of the master suite, his white dress shirt unbuttoned halfway down his chest, revealing glimpses of smooth, tanned skin stretched over defined pectorals and the subtle ridges of his abs.
At just 24, he carried the quiet confidence of a player who had already won titles and represented his country at the highest level, versatile, tenacious, and always in control.
Tonight, though, that control was fraying at the edges, replaced by something far more primal…
You stepped into the room from the adjoining balcony, still in your elegant wedding gown, the silky fabric hugging your curves. He turned at the sound of your footsteps, his brown eyes darkening with unmistakable hunger as they swept over you.
“Mi esposa,” (my wife) he said, the words rolling off his tongue in that rich Ecuadorian accent, low and rough. He crossed the room in a few strides, his large hands, hands that had intercepted countless attacks on the pitch, settling possessively on your waist. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this. For you to be mine completely.”
The kiss started slow, reverent. His lips brushed yours with all the love that had carried you through his demanding seasons, the distance, and the shared dreams of building a life together. But as your arms wrapped around his neck, the kiss deepened. His tongue teased the seam of your lips, seeking entry, and when you granted it, he groaned softly, pulling you flush against his solid frame. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the firm press of his chest, the subtle shift of powerful thighs as he backed you toward the king-sized bed draped in crisp white linens.
“Piero…” you whispered against his mouth, fingers already working on the remaining buttons of his shirt.
He helped you, shrugging the fabric off his broad shoulders and letting it drop to the floor. His torso was a masterpiece of disciplined athleticism, lean muscle from endless training sessions, a narrow waist, and that V-line disappearing into his trousers that made your mouth water. You traced your hands over his skin, feeling the faint scars from tackles and the steady thrum of his heartbeat.
“Your turn, amor,” (love) he murmured, his voice thick with desire. His fingers found the delicate zipper at the back of your gown, drawing it down agonizingly slowly. The dress pooled at your feet like liquid silk, leaving you in nothing but delicate lace lingerie. Piero’s gaze devoured you, his hands reverently mapping every curve, cupping your breasts, sliding down to grip your hips. “Dios… (God) you’re perfect. Been driving me crazy all day thinking about getting you out of this.”
He lifted you effortlessly, as if you weighed nothing to his muscled frame of pure power, and laid you down on the bed. Hovering over you, he kissed a burning trail from your lips to your jaw, down the column of your neck, pausing to suck gently at your pulse point until you arched into him with a soft moan. His mouth continued lower, teasing the swell of your breasts through the lace before he tugged the fabric aside. When his tongue flicked over a sensitive peak, you gasped, threading your fingers through his thick dark hair.
He took his time, exploring with lips, tongue, and teeth, drawing out whimpers and shivers until your skin felt electrified. “I want to taste every inch of you tonight,” he whispered, his breath hot against your stomach as he moved lower. He peeled your panties down your legs, settling between your thighs with that focused intensity he brought to the pitch. His first slow lick had your hips bucking, and he steadied you with strong hands on your thighs, holding you open as he devoured you with expert precision. The pleasure built relentlessly, his tongue circling, sucking, two fingers curling inside you until you shattered, crying out his name as waves of ecstasy crashed over you.
Piero kissed his way back up your body, shedding the rest of his clothes in the process. His cock was hard and heavy against your thigh, thick, long, and already leaking with need. You reached for him, stroking the velvety length, earning a deep groan from his chest.
“Careful, or this won’t last as long as I want,” he warned with a wicked grin, though his eyes were glazed with lust.
He positioned himself at your entrance, rubbing the head through your slick folds before pushing in slowly… inch by inch, stretching you deliciously. The fullness was exquisite, both of you moaning as he bottomed out, your walls clenching around him. He stayed still for a moment, forehead pressed to yours, breathing ragged. “Te amo… (I love you…) so much,” he whispered, then began to move.
At first, his thrusts were deep and measured, savoring the connection, the way your bodies fit perfectly. But as your nails raked down his back, urging him on, his control slipped. The pace quickened, hips snapping with the same powerful drive he used to surge forward on the field. Skin slapped against skin, your cries mingling with his low grunts and whispered Spanish endearments mixed with filthier promises: “You feel so fucking good… taking me so well, mi vida.” (My life).
He flipped you onto your stomach without breaking rhythm, pulling your hips up and driving in even deeper from behind. One hand tangled in your hair, the other gripping your waist hard enough to leave faint marks, souvenirs of this night. The angle hit that perfect spot inside you with every thrust, building another orgasm fast and intense.
“Come for me again,” he growled, reaching around to rub your clit. You did, hard, your body trembling as pleasure ripped through you. Piero followed with a guttural moan, burying himself to the hilt as he spilled deep inside you, his powerful body shuddering against yours.
You collapsed together, breathless and slick with sweat, the ocean breeze cooling your heated skin through the open windows. Piero pulled you into his arms, pressing soft kisses to your shoulder, your temple, anywhere he could reach.
“That was just the beginning,” he said after a few minutes, his voice husky but already laced with renewed hunger. His hand trailed lazily down your side, cupping your ass. “I’ve got stamina, you know. Comes with the job.”
You laughed softly, turning to face him and tracing the tattoo on his leg that honored his family, the driving force behind his success. “Prove it, husband.”
He did. After a short rest filled with tender touches and quiet conversations about the future, traveling together during international breaks, building a home, maybe starting a family someday, the fire reignited…
This time, you took the lead, pushing him onto his back and straddling his hips. You sank down onto him slowly, both of you groaning at the new angle. Riding him, you set a torturous pace at first, grinding and rolling your hips while he watched with hooded eyes, hands gripping your thighs. “Fuck, just like that,” he panted, thrusting up to meet you.
The room filled with the sounds of your shared pleasure, moans, the wet slide of bodies, the creak of the bed. He sat up, wrapping his arms around you, sucking marks into your neck as you moved faster, chasing another high. When you came again, clenching around him, he flipped you once more, pounding into you with relentless energy until he found his own release, filling you a second time.
Hours passed in a haze of passion.
There was a playful interlude in the luxurious shower, where soapy hands explored and he took you against the cool tiles, water cascading over your joined bodies. Back in bed, slower and more intimate the third time, face to face, eyes locked, whispering love and promises between deep kisses as he rocked into you with tender intensity.
By the time the first hints of dawn touched the horizon, you were both exhausted, tangled in the sheets, bodies marked with love bites and the faint imprint of fingers. Piero held you close, his chest rising and falling steadily beneath your cheek.
“Best night of my life,” he murmured, voice sleepy but content. “And we have forever to do it again.”
You smiled, pressing a kiss to his skin. “Forever sounds perfect, Piero.”
The waves continued their eternal rhythm outside, mirroring the steady beat of two hearts now bound as one, in love, in marriage, and in the fiery passion that would carry them through every season ahead…
I have two more to write up for Piero lmao, he is very popular which I don’t mind🤣😭 Keeps me fr busy during the International break, especially after all the “injuries” we’ve had. I just want us to be in peak shape for Southampton as they genuinely are a bogey team for us🥴
