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adicorporation · 7 months ago

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Top 10 Italian Marble Suppliers in India

TL:DR: India stands out as a leading supplier of high-quality Italian marble, prized for its exquisite beauty and lasting durability. The top Italian marble suppliers featured in this blog offer a wide range selection of premium marble products, making sure top-notch quality and competitive pricing for residential and commercial projects alike.

India is renowned for its vast reserves of high-quality marble, making it a leading supplier of this exquisite stone worldwide. Marble from India is highly prized for its beauty, durability, and variety.

If you’re looking to source marble, here are the top 10 Italian marble suppliers in India that stand out for their exceptional products and services.

1. adi marble:

Founded in 2001, adi corporation operates under the name adi marble in the marble industry. It has become one of the top Italian marble suppliers in India. With a prestigious client list that includes the Taj Hotel and numerous bungalows across the country, adi marble is synonymous with quality, craftsmanship, and elegance. Specializing in imported marble, granite, and Indian marble, they offer a wide range of premium products designed to elevate any space to new heights of luxury and sophistication.

2. RK Marbles:

RK Marbles is renowned as one of India’s premier providers of the finest Italian marble and natural stones. With an extensive collection of high-quality marble, granite, and more, It offers a diverse array of colors and patterns. Their dedication to excellence and customer satisfaction solidifies their reputation as the top choice in the industry.

3. Bhandari Marble Group:

It has cemented its position as a foremost supplier of imported marble for flooring and various spaces. Their extensive collection and commitment to excellent customer service distinguish them as leaders in the industry. Their longstanding legacy and dedication to quality ensure that they continue to be a preferred choice for those seeking premium marble solutions globally.

4. Aditya Stonex: It is a prominent Italian marble supplier in India, renowned for its expertise in high-quality marbles, granites, and sandstones. They are distinguished by innovative designs, premium products, and competitive pricing strategies. It has built a strong reputation on their commitment to customer satisfaction and reliable delivery timelines.

5. Kishangarh Marble: Located in the marble hub of Kishangarh, this Italian marble dealer offers an extensive variety of marbles, granites, and other natural stones. Known for their reasonable pricing and high-quality products, this is a trusted name for both residential and commercial projects.

6. Classic Marble Company (CMC): CMC is one of the largest importers and distributors of natural and exotic stones in India. They offer an impressive range of marbles, granites, and engineered stones. Their focus on quality, innovation, and customer satisfaction has made them a leader in the industry.

7. Bhutra Marble & Granite: Bhutra Marble & Granite is a leading supplier and exporter of premium quality marbles, granites, and other natural stones. They are known for their wide range of products, competitive pricing, and excellent customer service. Their commitment to quality has made them a preferred choice for many.

8. Marble Centre International (MCI): MCI specializes in importing, processing, and supplying a wide range of marbles, granites, and other natural stones. With a focus on quality and innovation, It offers an extensive selection of premium products that cater to the diverse needs of their clients.

9. Chandan marbles: It is a distinguished marble dealer in Pune, known for its wide array of high-quality marble products. Founded on a dedication to excellence, It specializes in offering premium marbles sourced globally, featuring exquisite imported marble, tiles and other imported varieties.

10. Mohan marble: With a commitment to quality and extensive global sourcing capabilities, It caters to diverse customer needs, ensuring premium materials and reliable service for both residential and commercial projects.

In summary

India’s marble industry boasts a vast and diverse landscape, featuring a multitude of top 10 marble companies known for their exceptional quality and service. These companies cater to a wide spectrum of needs, offering everything from luxury Italian marble for high-end projects to durable imported marble ideal for commercial use. Whether you’re in Pune searching for the best marble supplier or seeking imported marble for flooring, these marble dealers excel in providing varied product varieties, impeccable quality, and competitive pricing.

These suppliers specialize in offering premium Italian/ imported marble and other imported varieties renowned for their elegance and durability. Whether for residential or commercial applications, these top 10 Italian marble companies in India ensure that every project receives the finest marble solutions tailored to meet diverse architectural and design requirements.

#top Italian marble suppliers in India #Italian marble supplier in India #Italian marble dealer #top 10 marble companies #marble dealer in Pune #imported marble for flooring

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improvemyhome24 · 11 months ago

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Italian Marble for Table Tops Adds Luxury to Your Home

Make Your Home Look Fancy with Amazing Tables When it comes to making your home look really good, the stuff you use is super important. And guess what? Italian Marble for Table Tops is like a VIP in the world of making your home look amazing. This special marble is not only crazy beautiful but also super tough, making it a top pick for people who want their homes to be both stylish and…

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#adds #Home #italian #luxury #Marble #Table #tops

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bigpoppadean · 2 years ago

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DC Metro Dining Room A large 1950s photograph of an enclosed dining room with a dark wood floor and a black floor has metallic walls.

#alabastro #design #italian dining table #grey table #ceramic table #marble top table #cattelan

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poguehearted77 · 12 days ago

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rafe with pogue!reader with a mouth. she’s so sweet unless you don’t deserve it. and we all know rafe has done some things to get him in the dog house. she’s not afraid to put anyone in their place. but he finds that bending her over id the best way to shut her up.

mmfff. I love this ask.

Pairing: Sweet Girl! Reader x Rafe Cameron

a/n: answering some requests bc i'm finally back lolll

Rafe considers himself a lucky man to have a girlfriend like you--the luckiest, some would say, and he wouldn't disagree. You're sweet, kind, empathetic and probably too good for him if he's being honest.

You're the girl who bakes fresh bread and brings it to the nursing home on the weekends and volunteers her time at the local food banks whenever you have the chance.

It's a stark contrast to your stone-cold boyfriend who was rarely caught smiling in the presence of others except for his closest friends, but even they had a hard time making plans with him.

He's hard to get a hold of, and no one understands that more than you do at this moment. You're currently sitting at the elegantly set table in a reserved section of the Italian restaurant Rafe had booked just for the two of you.

Your diamond-embroidered watch which was a valentines gift from your overbearing boyfriend receives another frustrated glance from your intense stare. With precision the minute hand strikes, signifying the top of the hour and the end of your patience.

You couldn't believe Rafe had stood you up, despite your efforts to call him and the few gentle reminders you sent to his number. They were all in vain.

"Would you like more bread, ma'am?" The waiter comes back for what you guess is the fourth time in the last twenty minutes. Your cheeks rose over at the repeated question, realizing you'd have to admit that there was no one joining you any time soon.

"No, I'm alright thank you. Just the check will be fine." Your words paint a perplexed expression on the waiter's face before he visibly understands what's happened.

The waiter is sweet when he returns with the bill, "He's an idiot."

You didn't quite catch what he whispered under his breath, "Pardon?" His shoulders relax as a small smile graces his lips, "The guy's an idiot for standing you up." It's said thoughtfully, not with any ulterior motives, and you agree, feeling what was just surface-level disappointment morph into a simmering bitterness.

Rafe was going to deal with a bitch at home.

You found yourself stirring your freshly blended smoothie behind the kitchen island as Rafe continued his desperate attempts to get back in your good graces. "I'm so sorry, baby. The meeting went long and I couldn't get out of it." His hand tries to wrap around your waist from behind and you smack him away.

"Don't even, Rafe." The words come out through clenched teeth. He's startled but not surprised. He's seen this side of you before, though only once when a rude cashier had been insulting to your mother at the store.

"How many times do I have to say I'm sorry? The meeting ran longer than-" You don't even give him a chance to finish when you interrupt, "Oh my god, Rafe. Leave me alone!" You scoff, trying to push past him with your drink in hand but he holds you at the waist, cautiously taking the cup from you and placing it on the counter behind him.

He holds a stern gaze as he talks down to you: "Listen, I get it. You're upset, but you're not even giving me a chance to expl-" He tries to reason with you, but you don't want to hear it from him.

"Shut Up." You make dead eye contact, his towering height not intimidating you in the slightest. You're pissed off and now Rafe is too. Within the blink of an eye Rafe had you pinned down to the cool marble of the island with an arm behind your back.

"Ow~ Rafe!" You whine and he chuckles. "M'sorry baby. Am I hurting you?" He tightens the hold he has on your pinned arm, pressing his hips into the fat of your ass giving you a vivid understanding of where your attitude was taking you.

"You're such a fucking-" With his other hand he forces your head back down against the counter roughly but making sure not to hurt you. "Don't you dare." He warns from behind and you bite your tongue at the harsh tone he was using. He was not in the mood to play around.

"I'm sick of you avoiding me. I'm tryna talk to you-- tell you I'm sorry and you're not fuckin' listening." He curses as he lets your arm go, now moving its way under your dress the caress your ass.

He leaned forward, ensuring the breath of his words would tickle the shell of your ear as he spoke. "Such a shame too, you're usually such a good listener. A good girl." An icy chill runs down your spine as you feel him flip up the fabric of your dress.

There's a laugh, one of amusement.

"No panties? Thought I was supposed to be going to dinner with my girlfriend, not a whore." Your lip is tucked between your teeth when you hear the sound of his belt unbuckling. "Huh? Where's all your backtalk now, dollface?" You whine, arching your back up against your boyfriend.

"Rafe please-" He doesn't let you beg before he's sliding himself between your soaked folds, letting himself be overcome by the wet, hot sensation of your contracting walls. "Tell me you forgive me," He all but purrs in your ear. His words paired with the way his cock stretched you so good, you almost said it.

Almost.

"Fuck you."

He made you eat those words. The way he pistoned his hips into yours over and over with no remorse filled the kitchen with the lewd sounds of flesh against flesh. Your acrylics scratched against the marble tops desperately searching for something to hold on to.

"Say it." He grits and you shake your head, pathetic moans slipping with each thrust he gives you. "N-no!" He angles his hips, the head of his cock perfectly hitting the sweet spot. "Oh fuck- Rafe! I'm-"

"I won't let you finish until you say it-"

"I forgive you, fuck! I forgive you. Let me cum, please please-"

He gives you everything you need to stumble over the edge of ecstasy and more, he finishes soon after you. His weight leaning on your back, feeling his chest heave as he catches his breath.

"The waiter called you an idiot, you know." You mumble, cheek still pressed against the counter. "I am an idiot. I'm sorry, baby. Let's put this gorgeous dress to good use and let me make it up to you."

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miragemarble · 6 months ago

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Top Quality Italian Marble In Delhi NCR

Experience the luxury and elegance of Top Quality Italian Marble In Delhi NCR with Mirage Marble. Visit our showroom today to explore our stunning collection and discover the perfect Italian marble to elevate your interior design. Transform your space into a masterpiece of sophistication with Mirage Marbles.

#top quality italian marble #italian marble in delhi ncr #mirage marble #marbles

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shrenikmarble · 3 days ago

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If you're looking for premium quality marble, the Top Marble Companies in Kishangarh offer a wide variety of options. Among them, Shrenik Marble in Kishangarh stands out for its exceptional range of Italian and Indian marbles. Known for its high-quality products and excellent customer service, Shrenik Marble is a trusted name in the marble industry, providing the best solutions for residential and commercial projects.

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pahariyastones · 1 month ago

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Italian Marble Supplier | Marble Table Top Manufacturers

Discover Pahariya Stones, your trusted Italian marble supplier and expert marble table top manufacturer. Based in Jaipur, we offer an extensive range of premium Italian marble and exquisitely crafted table tops designed to bring elegance and sophistication to any space. With a commitment to quality and craftsmanship, we are your go-to source for timeless marble solutions.

#Italian Marble Supplier #Marble Table Top Manufacturers

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shrenikmarble90 · 2 months ago

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Italian Marble Dealers in Kishangarh: The Ultimate Hub for Luxury and Elegance

Kishangarh, the Marble City of India, has established itself as the largest marble market in the country. With its diverse range of marbles, it has earned a reputation for offering premium-quality stones that cater to residential, commercial, and industrial projects. Among the most sought-after stones, Italian marble holds a special place for its superior quality, exquisite patterns, and timeless elegance. The growing prominence of Italian marble dealers in Kishangarh has made the city a go-to destination for architects, builders, and homeowners who want to incorporate luxury into their spaces.

Why Italian Marble Stands Out:

Italian marble is renowned for its natural beauty, durability, and soft finish. Unlike other types of marble, Italian marble offers a distinctive charm that effortlessly transforms interiors into opulent masterpieces. The demand for Italian marble in India has grown exponentially, and Italian marble dealers in Kishangarh have taken center stage in meeting this growing need. With varieties like Statuario, Carrara, Botticino, and Calacatta, these dealers ensure an extensive selection for all kinds of design preferences.

The fine texture, exceptional gloss, and intricate veining patterns of Italian marble have made it a preferred choice for luxury flooring, walls, countertops, and decorative installations. Clients from across India and abroad turn to Kishangarh’s network of Italian marble dealers in Kishangarh for genuine products and competitive pricing.

Shrenik Marbles: A Name You Can Trust:

Among the leading dealers in Kishangarh, Shrenik Marbles stands out as a prominent supplier of authentic Italian marble. Known for their dedication to quality and customer satisfaction, Shrenik Marbles has carved a niche as a trusted name in the marble industry. With years of experience, the company has developed expertise in sourcing, curating, and delivering the finest Italian marble to customers nationwide.

Shrenik Marbles offers a wide range of Italian marbles that suit various needs and budgets. From the luxurious white Statuario marble to the understated elegance of Botticino and the striking beauty of Calacatta, they cater to diverse aesthetic tastes. What sets Shrenik Marbles apart is their commitment to providing genuine Italian marble directly imported from Italy’s renowned quarries. This ensures that customers receive premium-quality products that add a touch of sophistication and durability to their projects.

Why Choose Italian Marble Dealers in Kishangarh?

The unparalleled reputation of Italian marble dealers in Kishangarh is a result of their ability to deliver superior quality and customer satisfaction. Here are the key reasons why Kishangarh’s dealers are the preferred choice for Italian marble:

Genuine Products: Kishangarh’s dealers, including Shrenik Marbles, ensure authenticity by sourcing marble directly from Italy’s top quarries. Each slab undergoes stringent quality checks to meet global standards.

Wide Variety: Italian marble dealers in Kishangarh offer an extensive range of options, including popular and rare varieties, to cater to unique design preferences.

Competitive Pricing: By sourcing marble in bulk and maintaining strong supply chains, Kishangarh’s dealers provide Italian marble at competitive prices without compromising on quality.

Customization: Many dealers offer custom cutting, finishing, and polishing to meet specific project requirements, ensuring a seamless fit for every installation.

Expertise and Guidance: The city’s experienced Italian marble dealers in Kishangarh provide expert advice, helping clients choose the perfect marble based on their design needs, budget, and project scope.

The Rising Demand for Italian Marble:

As modern architecture and interior design continue to evolve, the demand for Italian marble has witnessed a sharp increase. Luxury homes, hotels, offices, and commercial spaces are increasingly using Italian marble to elevate their visual appeal. The presence of Italian marble dealers in Kishangarh has made it easier for clients to access high-quality marble without the hassle of importing it themselves.

With its strategic location and world-class infrastructure, Kishangarh has become a hub where Italian marble is readily available in a variety of finishes, patterns, and sizes. Companies like Shrenik Marbles have played a significant role in meeting this demand by offering reliable solutions and ensuring customer satisfaction.

Shrenik Marbles: Elevating Interiors with Italian Excellence

For clients looking for premium Italian marble, Shrenik Marbles remains a trusted choice in Kishangarh. Their expertise, combined with a passion for quality, has earned them a loyal clientele across the country. Whether it is for opulent flooring, stunning countertops, or statement walls, Shrenik Marbles delivers products that enhance the beauty and value of every space.

By maintaining transparency, competitive pricing, and personalized service, Shrenik Marbles continues to set benchmarks in the marble industry. Their wide range of Italian marbles, sourced from the finest quarries, ensures that every client receives a product that meets their expectations for quality and aesthetics.

Conclusion:

Kishangarh’s emergence as a hub for premium marble, particularly Italian marble, has been fueled by its network of reliable Italian marble dealers in Kishangarh. With their ability to source, curate, and deliver world-class marble, these dealers have made Kishangarh the ultimate destination for luxury stone requirements.

Among the many names in the industry, Shrenik Marbles stands tall as a beacon of trust, quality, and excellence. For anyone seeking genuine Italian marble that adds elegance, durability, and luxury to interiors, the Italian marble dealers in Kishangarh, especially Shrenik Marbles, provide unmatched solutions and services. As the demand for Italian marble continues to rise, Kishangarh remains at the forefront of this thriving market, delivering timeless beauty to projects across the globe.

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stonefields1 · 5 months ago

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Discover the Elegance: Why Stone Fields is the Best Marble Shop in Kishangarh

Stone Fields stands out as the best marble shop in Kishangarh, offering an unmatched selection of premium marble. With exceptional quality, diverse designs, and top-notch customer service, elegance meets excellence here.

#best Marble suppliers in Kishangarh #best marble shop in kishangarh #Marble Manufacturers in Kishangarh #Top Marble Dealers in Kishangarh #Imported Marble supplier In Kishangarh #Italian Marble Supplier In Kishangarh #Italian white marble in Kishangarh #White imported marble in kishangarh #White marble in kishangarh #Imported White Marble In Kishangarh #Satvario marble In Kishangarh #Statuario marble In Kishangarh #Michal Angelo marble In Kishangarh #Vietnam white marble In Kishangarh #Pure white marble In Kishangarh

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mariahcarreyyy · 1 year ago

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.ೃ࿐𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒𝐍’𝐓 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 | 𝐦𝐯𝟑𝟑 |

max verstappen x fem!reader

plot. when max visits years after your split, the strong facade you've worn crumbles at his fingertips

wc. 3.4k

warnings. smut 18+, angry n rough sex, p in v, degradation kink, reader cheats on her longterm boyfriend lol, oral sex (f!recieving), rough fingering (f!recieving), dry humping, name-calling, doggy + missionary style, dom!max and reader who thinks shes a dom, hairpulling, slight choking, and very angsty in some parts

Two seconds.

The amount of time it takes Max to grasp your door handle and trudge into the dimly lit apartment instead of patiently allowing you to let him in is two seconds. A fitted black suit adorns his body. His body, who glides assuredly into your humble kitchen. His eyes, who choose to ignore your irritated frame.

Then his lips. His big, red lips, who swallow the copious amount of popcorn that his hands were shovelling down his throat. His massive, veiny hands who used to intertwine perfectly in yours.

Him, Max. The figure leaning over your marble counters with slouched shoulders and forearms resting against the cool surface is Max. Two cups, he notices, stand side by side on the sink. A pink Stanley cup and a cheap protein shaker that isn't his.

Max’s fingers twitch.

From where you’re frozen by the door frame, only his side profile is visible. You curl your fists tight. Suddenly, wearing an oversized Metallica t-shirt and panties didn’t seem so comfortable.

“Max.”

Your eye twitches at the acknowledgement you receive. Or lack thereof. The recently crowned third-time world champion huffs at the bowl of popcorn in his hands before turning to open the fridge. He doesn’t look very satisfied. But then again, he never really was when it came to you, was he?

The light of the furniture illuminates Max’s face rather annoyedly, contouring his sharp jawline and the curve of his lips like it had a point to prove. This is what you could’ve had, it taunted, if you hadn’t broken up.

Much louder and more irritated than before, you call out for him. And then, your eyes meet. You had spent the last few years meeting his gaze solely through the rectangular box in your living room; now, you pinch yourself in disbelief—anger, as well.

“What,” you stutter, and almost curse yourself when you catch a glimpse of his cocky smirk you remember all too well. “What are you doing here, Max?”

The fridge begins beeping loudly. Rolling his eyes, the Dutch slams it closed, slipping past you and into the living room. You follow him. The room is lit up by what feels like a thousand scented candles and it’s cold despite it.

The blond collapses on top of your couch, and the cushions pull him in like they missed him. It’s been so long, they think, and you feel better than the girl who’d been crying on us when you left.

“Where’s that guy?” Max asks bitterly, eyes stubborn on the television before him. “The one you posted yesterday at that restaurant.”

Max doesn’t follow you on any social media anymore, and an evil part of you feels content with the fact that he’d had to manually search your name to see that photo. Last night, Scotty had made a reservation at a fine, respectable Italian place to commemorate your one-year anniversary.

You had a good time; Scotty would quip about everything and anything, and you would laugh exaggeratedly. You two were a great pairing, you think— hope, for the sake of your sanity.

You make yourself home in the space next to him, pulling your knees to your chest and tugging at your shirt to cover your bare legs. “You need to leave. Now, Max.”

A quiet ‘hm’ slips past his lips. But he’s still stuck on the couch, toeing out of his dress shoes and crossing his legs together like it was his home—but, it isn’t. Not anymore. Not while you are evidently a meaningless speck in his glorious life.

When Max turns to you, disgustingly pretty blue eyes and all, you succumb to the tight grasp he has on all of your logic. “Business trip. Milan.”

An empty chuckle raises the tiny hairs on your arm and echoes across the room. Max clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth; his eyes refuse to leave yours. He brings a cold hand to tuck a fallen strand of hair behind your ear; his fingertips leave burn marks against your cheek.

“You don’t even like Italian food,” he continues, because does he ever really know how to stop? “Does he even know you?”

And that. It shouldn’t have made you as frustrated as it did, not when you had gotten over Max. Totally. Completely. Utterly. “What, like you did? Max, you wouldn’t even give a fuck to remember our anniversary!”

The sarcastic glint in his eyes turns sour. “I had to race—Fuck! y/n, I was leading the championship, you knew that.”

“Yeah, Max, how could I forget? Red bull this, Red bull fucking that,” you seethe through gritted teeth, face inching closer to him and squinting eyes shining predatorily. “It’s been two years, Max, two years since you broke up with me. So, congrats. You got what you wanted—a trophy and a name under your belt. Why don’t you fucking leave me alone?”

Max’s breath hitches, but your uncontrolled panting inhales enough air for the both of you. Then, his hand wraps around the side of your neck, not squeezing, but it’s there. It’s warm, and it feels painfully refreshing against your skin, and your protests die in your throat.

The Dutch whispers an octave lower, and only then, when his minty breath tickles your cheekbones, do you perceive your proximity, “Because I think if you really wanted me gone, I would be by now.”

And, well. He might as well be ripping open your ribcage and twisting your heart until it breaks in half, crimson blood making a mess of the carpeted floor.

You’re left speechless under his gaze because as much as you try to deny, you know it’s true. Max would leave as fast as he did two years ago if there was even a hint of honesty in your words.

“And you know what else I think?” Max takes your silence as encouragement to continue. “I think he doesn’t fuck you well enough if you’re this desperate for it.”

Somehow, you muster up enough irritation to murmur, “I—m’not desperate.”

“No?” he taunts, extending his thumb to the underside of your chin and tilting it upward. “Why haven’t you properly kicked me out, then?”

You rack your mind for a response, a reaction—fucking anything to prove you aren’t wishing he’d just inch a bit closer to close the gap between you.

“I . . . I hate you, Jesus Christ,” you curse defeatedly, craning your neck upward and frantically meeting his stupidly large lips.

The kiss isn’t slow or loving; it’s wet and filthy and you wouldn’t have it any other way. There’s a lingering taste of honey on his tongue when he brushes it between your parted lips, and you can’t help but pull him in deeper for more.

The hand on your neck tightens significantly, Max’s breath tickling your upper lip as the other seizes around your under thigh and swiftly pulls you onto his lap.

A gasp flows out of your mouth and he greedily swallows it. You want to skin him alive when you feel him grin arrogantly, but then he presses a hand on your ass and lowers you flush against him—Him, and the massive bulge straining his black trousers—and the thoughts spill right out of your head into a gooey puddle beside your feet.

“I hate y— oh,” your murmur morphs into a shaky gasp when he rips his lips away from yours and attacks the canvas of your neck; you say those three words like you could them words into existence.

And I hate that I still want you so fucking bad; those eleven words are left unsaid like you expect him to read your mind. But Max couldn’t two years ago, and you know he can’t now.

Your hands glide over his muscular frame, relearning the sharp edges and smooth skin of his body and you moan breathily when Max sucks on the sweet spot beneath your ear. “Y’might hate me, baby, but your pussy doesn’t. Fuck, she’s dripping all ov’me.”

A pathetic whimper slips past your lips. He’s not wrong— you could feel your slick coating your panties and rubbing against Max’s pants. You were usually one to stand your ground, but fuck, you need him. Need him the same you did the first time you met, both young and inexperienced. Maybe more.

Probably more.

But he isn’t doing anything to relieve the ache between your thighs, so. Before you take matters into your own hands and grind your pussy against his covered dick, Max’s hands cup the mounds of your ass and lift you sideways to splay your body on the couch.

“Max,” you say like the breaths have been knocked out of your poor lungs, but it might not be so far from the truth.

Max positions himself in between your legs, hips and thick thighs parting them wide, and the itchy fabric against your naked skin spins your head in dizzying circles. You could fucking see the damp patch your slick left on his crotch. Your hips buck into the air; you hate him, you hate him, you hate him.

His dishevelled hair lay atop his head and you want to pull. His flush trails down his neck and you want to bite and kiss and mark it till pretty bruises litter his soft skin. Your hands and lips stay pliant under his body instead.

“Y’d only get this wet f’me, though, hm?” he groans when his fingers push your skimpy underwear to the side, unblinking like the sight of your glistening folds would disappear if he looked away.

I’m always like this for you, you feel the need to reassure, even when you aren’t here—especially when you aren’t here. But your blood still boils at his stupid hair and stupid smirk, so. He’s met with silence.

Growing impatient, Max slaps at your swollen clit, humming satisfactorily at the loud gasp you let out. He grazes his digits past the bundle of nerves, and your incessant need to murder him and fuck him till he realized he’d made a mistake letting you go only intensify.

“Answer me or I swear to fucking God I will leave you like this, shatje,” he ends up growling lowly, thick fingers hovering over your hole. “And then it’s your boyfriend’s problem.”

“Max, fuck off–”

The warm body abruptly stands up, and you don’t think you’ve ever been this cold. But the empty sensation doesn’t last long, anyway. Max barely has any time to walk away before your fingers latch onto his forearm tightly.

You splutter, “M-Max wait, wait.”

When he tilts his head down to meet your eyes with a raised brow, you have no recollection of what you'd even wanted to say.

“Please…please, just fucking help me.”

And apparently, that's all Max needs because his hands are immediately tugging your shirt off, lips trailing hot kisses in the divot of your tits. Your lips part around a moan when he purses his lips around your hard nipple, stomach stirring uncomfortably with need. His mouth leaves marks like cigarette burns in its wake; it stings against the wounds that have already healed years ago.

The Dutch doesn’t leave you much to dwell on before he lays between your thighs again, trails his hand across your body till his fingers nudge at your lips, and shoves his index and middle finger inside the wetness of your mouth. if you were slightly more desperate, you would've whimpered at the pleasent pressure on your tongue.

If.

“Fuck, lieverd,” Max exhales when you suck your cheeks in, wet muscle darting over and between his digits— wide, innocent eyes and all. “Can he get you like this? Fucking dripping and desperate for dick?”

You shake your head frantically because it’s true. Because he couldn’t, not like Max can. Satisfied, Max only presses against your throat slightly to watch you gag around him. He brings his hand back down to the space between your legs agonizingly slow and alas, pushes them both in like he’s in a rush.

“Max! Oh, oh m’God, fuck,” you gasp, the twinge of pain is quickly overshadowed by the hot pleasure bubbling in your lower stomach.

Your hips involountarily buck upwards into the fullness, but Max flattens his palm on your lower stomach to shove you down. Eyes rolling back and threading your fingers through his hair before tugging his insatiable mouth on your pussy.

“He doesn’t,” Max cuts himself off with a groan when his tongue flicks at your clit, familiar tasting slick pooling on his taste buds. “He doesn’t know you like I do, can’t make you cum as hard as I do, can he?”

He doesn’t expect a response; it isn’t even a question, as well as you’re aware. Max knows he’s the only person who can have you writhing and moaning on his fingers, cock, tongue— all three, one night.

And he’s right. But. Max’s control of the situation makes you feel queasy, so.

“No– ohh, fuckfuckfuck,” you moan, high and needy, when Max curls his fingers upwards, like a reward for agreeing with him. “He–, he fucks me better.”

From under you, Max’s face visibly dims, but you aren’t able to bask in the satisfaction it gives you before he drags his thick digits out of you—your hole clenching in protest, crying out at the emptiness when it fails to keep them inside—hooks his hands into the small of your waist, and your ass meets the hardwood floor.

“What the fuck–”

Your breath hitches when he flips you over on your elbows and knees. Back arched almost uncomfortably, furrowed brows with Max’s bruising hands on your hips to lift your ass further in the air.

When Scotty slips into bed tomorrow morning, you hope he’ll see the ugly hues of blue and green on your tainted body and leave soundlessly.

Shaking your head at the intrusive thought, you curse internally. Scotty’s nice, and you don’t deserve him. Not when you’re willingly presenting yourself to Max, the folds of your pussy connected by the lewd lines of his spit and your slick.

"Y’wanna act like a whore?" Max whispers hotly from behind you– his breath tickles your ear and his hands rise to your hair, gather your locks into a makeshift ponytail, and tug it forcefully to tilt your head back, making you wince. "I'll fucking treat you like one."

A string of your desperate whines fills Max’s ears like a symphony, and he groans with you when you begin to grind your ass backwards against his dick. His dick. Fuck, Max needs it wrapped around your tight walls, milking him for all he has; needs to watch you writhe on his cock like it was what you were made for.

“I hate you,” you repeat, much more breathless than the other times you said it, and Max has the audacity to laugh.

Though, you guess it has more to do with the fact that all the while you were saying those three words, you were still needily humping your ass against his covered dick.

You still are, and it’s driving him fucking insane. Max curses when he realizes he’s still trapped by the confines of his pants. Whoever thought wearing clothes was a good idea?

Clumsily and with only one hand whilst the other grips your hair, he fumbles out of his suit. And Max throws the articles of clothing mindlessly—on the couch, on the floor. He doesn’t know, and he doesn’t fucking care.

A relieved sigh fills the room as the cool air wraps around his painfully hard cock. Your breath hitches when you feel the thick tip graze your pussy. His hand hastily grips at his base, aligns it to your folds, and coating it in your slick as he strokes it once, twice.

“Ah! Max, holy shit,” you blabber when his cock nudges against your swollen clit, and finally, thrusts his hips forward, the tip fitting snugly against your walls. “Oh, oh, fuck, moremoremore, please.”

And Max. Well, Max is doomed.

“Fuck, liefje, your pussy missed me so fucking bad, I know, I know,” Max coos when your hole clenches around him greedily, and spreads your cheeks with one hand, gazing obscenely at the sight of you sucking more and more of him inside.

The familiar stretch burns and yet your hips push back against his cock— three words ringing in your otherwise empty mind: full, full, fuller. Max’s hips stutter as he meets your movements halfway, fucking his stupidly massive cock into your wetness and tightening his hold on your hair.

You wish you could say you hate the pain as much as you hate him.

“Max, Max, Max,” you urge him as your eyes roll to the back of your head, but you don’t really know what for; your neediness took over your senses the moment Max kissed you.

But Max, he’d already memorized all of it— all your tells, those things that pushed you over the edge—, protected them inside a dust-covered chest buried in his mind. It was no surprise he knew what to do with you now, filling you to the brim and pounding into you ruthlessly.

“Yes! Yes! Mm fuck, please, don’t stop, don’t stop,” you sob happily, and Max wouldn’t fucking dare.

The man behind you tugs you upright with the hand on your hair, his chest flush heatedly against your back and tilting your head to pounce at your neck.

“Tell me,” Max growls slowly, slowing his assaults on your wet pussy, and now, you’re almost sure that your hate is reciprocated. “Tell me he means nothing to you.”

A loud yelp leaves your lips when he slaps your clit again, and a slight gush of slick slides down your walls, dripping lewdly onto his balls. Your hand reaches up to grip his hair and pulls his pillowy lips back onto your neck; tears brim at your waterline. You aren’t sure if it’s because of how badly you want to cum or miss him— you blink.

No, no, no. That wouldn’t be possible because. Because you don’t miss him.

“He’s nothing, Max, nothing compares to you,” you cry out, and Max falters.

Then, he pulls out.

“Huh? Wha…” You inhale sharply, feeling so stupidly empty.

Before you dig a hole for you and your pussy to crawl in and die, Max is swiftly turning you over by your hips and engulfing his dick in your walls again. Your mouth falls open again; Max takes it as an opportunity to press his lips against yours.

Your hands cradle his face and kiss him back gently like he isn’t fucking the life out of you. Like he isn’t projecting his pent up frustration for the last two years onto your wet, tight pussy. A muffled cry escapes your mouth when Max thrusts into you with newfound fervor.

His lips detach from yours, burrying his forehead into the crook of your neck to, hopefully, muffle his groans. “Max– ah! Oh m’God, I’m so close, please just.”

Max nods, wild and frantic and horny, slipping a hand between your sweaty bodies. He tweaks, pinches, and rubs at your clit until you let out a shriek and your thighs close instinctively around him.

He bottoms out, grinding helplessly inside the heat of your pussy. “Cum f’me, shatje, wanna feel you cum on m’cock. Fucking cum.”

And, well, if you were even the slightest bit good at denying Max, you wouldn’t even be in this position. So. You arch your back off the ground with a high, loud moan and savour the white specs in your vision that only Max seems to bring out of you.

He fucks you through your orgasm—chasing his own with short, wild thrusts. “Ah, fuckkk, if only y’were as good as y’pussy is to me, liefje, y’d be getting m’cock like this every fucking night— Fuck!”

Beads of Max’s thick cum fill you to the brim with a loud groan and a long string of curses, tainting your insides a heavenly white. His hips stutter when you clench around him, milking him for all he has just like he’d wanted. And, when Max pulls out with a shaky gasp, he takes another piece of your heart with him.

Maybe, if you make this same mistake enough, he’d realize he has your heart already, full and pieced together.

But Max was never one to take a hint, never one to read your mind, so you settle for the parts of him you can have once in a blue moon; you settle for him picking you up, carrying you to your bedroom, cleaning the mess between your legs, and pulling the covers above your naked frame; you settle for the scowl on his face when he notices the polaroid of you and Scotty on your bedside table.

“I hate y—”

Max leaves the room before you can finish your sentence.

He knows.

authors notes dedicating this to @enchantecafe + @scuderiahoney bcs they were hor knee for max on this poll (me too) i hope you guys like it and thank you to @cafekitsune for the dividers once again xx

i feel like this isn't my best work but i'll post it anyway because i spent a lot of time on it and yolo. also i think i fried my brain with it.

also, writing this fic made me realize idfk how to write angry sex it just ends up being angsty so. i think at times theyre angry but as they go on, some of that tension dissipitates and they both realize they want but cant have each other. tried my best tho!! xx

lemme know how you liked this story or give me some feedback in the comments or my inbox! 💬🐢

taglist in separate posts bcs tumblr chooses to be annoying <33

p.s reblogs and likes are always appreciated 💚💚

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mutifandomkid · 20 days ago

Text

Happy Anniversary

Paring: Buckyxreader

Warnings: Angst, cheating, self comparison, implied car accident??

Word count: 1.7k

****************

Bucky and I had been in a relationship for three years now. Tomorrow was our anniversary. I had already picked out some black lingerie, and made reservations at one of Bucky’s favorite restaurants.

It was a small hole in the wall, Italian. The inside of the venue was beautiful, black and white marble walls. Ivy vines trailing up and down the walls, and the black open fences out on the balcony. It was fancy for a small hole in the wall, but the food was amazing, and each time we ate there, we always left with full bellies with smiles on our faces.

“Alright I have one table set for two, scheduled for tomorrow night at 7 pm, underneath the name of Mr. Barnes?” The woman asked.

“Yes, that’s correct, thank you.” I said, to which she smiled at me, and said I was go to go.

I headed from the restaurant to hailed a taxi, climbing in a heading to Stark’s tower. In which he already knew of my arrival, letting me up. He had me try on two different dresses. His designer looking them over and making small adjustments before having me model them again.

“Looks good, you and iceman will look great tonight, firecracker.” Tony smiled, admiring the dress on my body. “Perfect for the party tonight.”

The dress itself was a white dress, that faded into an ombré on yellow, orange and red at the bottom, the flow of the dress and mover of colors appearing as if it was flames.

Stark grabbed my hand and spun me around, the designer admiring it from afar. Tony gave another look of approval before sending me on my way to try on the other dress.

It was a simply black halter top. Tony had his designer design the dresses, one for the party he was throwing tonight in honor of defeating Loki a few weeks ago. And the other he threw in courteously once he found out about my anniversary with Bucky. His designer even went as far as designing two matching suits for Bucky, who would try them on once he returned from his mission later today.

“If Barnes didn’t have such a possessive streak on you, I’d snatch you up.” Tony smirked as he saw me in the floor length black halter top. His designer smiled in approval as she slid the previous dress and shoes into a dress bag.

“Careful Tony, talk like that will get you killed.” I laughed, doing a little spin.

“Good thing iceman isn’t here then.” Tony responded, nodding as I spun. He took in each angle. “Barnes better appreciate you the way you deserve, princess.”

“He does,” I smiled. He had for the past three years, why would now be any different. “You know he has.”

Tony nodded, smiling, but his body language didn’t match his happy expression. “Right, well firecracker, you have to get ready for the party tonight. Barnes tell you he’d meet you here?”

“No, he didn’t.” I said, walking back to the dressing room to dress in normal clothes. “M’sure just slipped his mind.”

“I’ll send a driver for you tonight at 8?” Tony offered.

“You don’t have to, but you know I can’t say no.” I chuckled, stepping back out in my jeans, t-shirt and sneakers. Handing his designer the black dress.

“How much do I owe you?” I asked, reaching for my wallet.

“Don’t worry about it princess, you’re a part of this team. I’ll cover it.” Tony waved me off. “Off you go, get ready for tonight.”

I smiled and thanked him before heading back out of his building and back to my apartment, hailing a taxi to get back to Brooklyn.

_____________

“Hey Bucky, can’t wait to see you tonight!”

I sent the text over two hours ago. Was he okay? Did something go wrong on the mission? Did Sam know where he was?

The thoughts swirled in my head in a frenzied panic. I took a deep breath, counting to ten before exhausting, and then forced myself to calm down. He was probably fine, maybe just taking a nap.

I shot Sam a quick text, after all, they went on the mission together. If I couldn’t reach Bucky, then maybe Sam could.

“You guys make it back okay?”

It was a good few minutes before I got a reply. So while I waited, I busied myself with my make up for the night. Black eyeliner, orange eyeshadow with a touch of gold glitter, and dark ember lip.

“Yeah, we got back a few hours ago. Why?”

I read the text, frowning slightly. Normally Bucky was so quick to respond or call when he got back.

“Is Bucky okay?”

I went back to doing my makeup, finishing the look with the highlighter, and it accentuated the contour.

“Yeah, he’s in a great mood.”

I again frowned at Sam’s response, typing out a quick ‘okay’ and then putting my phone down. Why hadn’t he called? Brushing it off my shoulders and figuring he had his reasons, I moved onto my hair.

I did a light curl, then did it half up and half down, with a few strands framing my face. I then slipped on the dress, the white ombré one. I checked the time, Tony’s driver would be here any minute now.

I slipped on the matching white ombré shoes, and grabbed a small, white purse wallet, quickly shoving the few belongings I’d need while at the party. Before putting my phone in, I checked Bucky’s message log.

Seen.

________

As soon as I walked back into the tower, it was extravagant. Tony never faltered when it came to parties. Strobe lights, a live band, Dj stepping in when the band needed a break. People crowding the floor, the music blaring loudly. Drinks clattering, laughter and conversation filling the empty space.

Sam beckoned me over to him. He stood next to Natasha, both of which wearing black, although while Sam wore a classy suit, Natasha stood in a floor length slit black glitter dress, long gloves to match, as hell as glitter heels.

“Hey girl, where’ve you been?” Natasha smiled and pulled me into a hug. “Don’t tell me Bucky’s been keeping you all to himself. Always so selfish when it comes to you.”

I laughed at Natsha’s comment and hugged Sam when Natasha let me go. “Actually I haven’t seen him.” I smiled.

“Still?” Sam asked, handing me a cocktail he grabbed from a passing server’s plate. “Really thought he would’ve messaged you by now.”

I frowned. “Something happen on the mission?”

“No, not that I know of.” Sam answered.

“Odd, that’s not like Barnes.” Natasha mused. “No matter for now, we’re here to have fun. So let’s have some fun!”

Natasha smiled deviously before grabbing the cocktail from my hand and handing it to Sam. She then pulled me out to the dance floor, in which we both laughed and danced for a bit. For a minute it was just like old times.

And it was then I saw him.

There he was, in the suit that had matched mine. White with the same red, orange and yellow ombré, the colors clashing with his eyes. Courtesy of Tony.

I stopped dancing. Natasha noticed, and stopped and followed my gaze. It was then she saw it too, then grabbed my hand and physically dragged me off the dance floor.

There Bucky was, speaking softly to Sharon. He had her caged against the wall, her hands pressed against his chest, a flirtatious smile on her face.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asked when Natasha dragged my back to Sam by the bar.

“Apparently nothing is wrong with Bucky.” Natasha snapped, gesturing over to him.

Meanwhile I stood, taking my cocktail from Sam and taking small sips. Forcing the tears to stay at bay. I felt like my head was under water, and I was swimming in a pool that had no walls to grab onto.

I barely registered when Sam looked over, Bucky’s lips were locked with Sharon’s. Sam scowled, his expression a firm grimace.

“Let’s get you some air babe.” Sam said, walking with me towards the balcony outside. It was quieter there, less commotion, and not nearly as many people.

Natasha busied herself with shoving everyone else inside, then closing the balcony door and standing inside to prevent anyone from interrupting.

I was quiet, sipping my cocktail and willing the tears to stay, not allowing myself to cry.

“He doesn’t deserve you.” Sam said softly.

“Doesn’t make it hurt any less.” I whispered.

“I know.” Sam was quiet for a long moment. “But he doesn’t, not with how well you treated him.”

“You’re not helping.” I whispered, shying away.

Sam sighed. “I’m sorry.” He said, his voice soft.

I knew he was trying to be comforting, to help. But the only thing I could feel, see, was Bucky. Arms around her, kissing her, treating her like how he treated me. At least how he used to treat me.

I glanced back inside. He was still with her. Sharon, god she was beautiful. Blonde hair, skinny, perfectly sculpted eyebrows, thin nose, brown comforting eyes. I looked away, feeling sick- no, disgusted with myself.

What did she have that I didn’t?

“I think I’m just going to go home Sam.” I whispered softly.

He sighed softly, before pulling me into a tight hug. It was suffocating.

“Call me if you need anything.” Sam whispered, pressing a light kiss to the top of my forehead before letting me go.

I nodded, then went back inside, Natasha giving me a pitiful look as I walked out of the party. I made my way down to the garage, the damn finally breaking when I remembered I didn’t drive here.

I took off my heels and began walking outside of the tower, the tears now falling down my face. It was late out on the streets of New York, and here I was in a gorgeous dress, crying, arms wrapped tightly around myself the day before my anniversary.

I couldn’t hear anything, couldn’t see anything. I felt like I was underwater, drowning in my own sorrows and pity.

What was so special about her? What did she have that I didn’t? Had he slept with her? Was she better in bed? Did he think about her when he was with me? How long had this been going on?

I didn’t see the car barreling towards me when I went to cross the road.

***********

I apologize in advance.

#bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #sebastain stan #bucky fanfic #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fic #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #angst

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