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harlot-of-oblivion · 3 years

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Sowing the Seeds of Lasting Love (Part 10)

Vergil helps you with a flowery dilemma before the wedding.

The big day is finally here! Hope you enjoy! 🌹😘🌹

Chapter 1: White Heather

When Nero first told his father about the wedding, he explained that they wanted to keep it nice and simple, only inviting family and close friends to the ceremony. But now that the big day is upon them, Vergil notices that the ceremony is still nice but definitely not simple. And it seems they’ve decided to invite all of Fortuna going by all the numerous names he hardly recognizes in the guest log!

But there’s one name that he knows very well on the very first page…your neat yet bubbly handwriting is indistinguishable among the cursive chaos.

Vergil smiles but then remembers himself as the hustle and bustle of people whiz around the venue’s entryway. He quickly closes the guest book before striding away from wandering eyes, seeking refuge from the morning mayhem before the wedding. But you always manage to wriggle your way back into his mind, occupying his every thought…especially now that he’s confessed his feelings and tasted your kiss. Just the mere memory of your velvety lips parting for his tongue make his cheeks burn with a slight blush!

The lovestruck devil shakes these desirous thoughts out of his head as he approaches one of the designated dressing rooms for the wedding party. He quietly slips in and examines himself in the three-way mirror, checking his appearance and immaculate suit for any obvious flaws. The refined paisley pattern of his dark blue wedding coat contrasts well with the silky black lapels and matching blue vest. He wrings the black bow with a grimace, wishing it were an elegant cravat instead as he adjusts it around the stark white collar of his shirt. Then, he scrutinizes the rest of his suit, noting the pristine matching dress pants and spotless black formal shoes with an approving nod.

This well-tailored ensemble will surely bring that endearing blush to my beloved rose’s cheeks, he muses with a confident chuckle while raking his fingers through his silvery white hair.

The thought of you creeps into his mind again, but he allows himself to reminisce in the privacy of the dressing room. He didn’t have much of a chance to let the events of the previous day fully sink in until now; the time between storming out of the shop and arriving at your doorstep is still a bit hazy. But the warmth of your humble abode, the steaming hot water of your shower, and the comfort of your soothing lullaby and tranquil heartbeat as he fell asleep in your embrace…now that he remembers quite well!

Vergil also recalls how he swallowed his pride before baring his soul to you, practically pouring every ounce of sincere fervor from within his heart as he revealed his true feelings. And despite hearing all about his past trauma and doubtful hesitancy in matters of romance…you still accepted him with unconditional love, releasing the mounting tension between both of you as he finally gave into his desire by capturing your lips with a passionate kiss. The cadence of your soft gasps and lingering moans, the thorough strokes of your tongue, and the feel of your body beneath him…it all felt so good.

But it’s not enough.

He wants more…he needs more…

A sudden shriek of distress from outside interrupts his amorous ruminations. His eyes widen in alarm as he rushes out the dressing room door, following the dreadful tone of your voice all the way to the venue’s kitchen. And he’s not the only one to come running to rescue; a couple of the staff and Dante burst in with a look of concern. But you barely notice their presence as you continue to stare into the large walk-in freezer with a horrified face.

“What’s going on, Buttercup?”

“Are you hurt?”

Both brothers slowly approach as you turn around to face them. You meet each of their eyes for a moment…then, you take a deep breath and scream at the top of your lungs:

“FLOWER EMERGENCY!”

Your enraged declaration bellows through the kitchen, making some of the staff jump as you dash towards a countertop. You unpin the delicate flower crown upon your head, being mindful of the white heather blooms and bleeding hearts flowers. Then, you carefully remove it and place it on top of the counter before tying your hair into a low ponytail at the nape of your neck.

Dante lets out a low whistle. “It must be really bad if the flower crown’s coming off!”

“What happened?” Vergil asks while giving his idiotic brother a warning glare.

You turn back around with an exasperated sigh. “I told them to NOT put any peonies to the freezer under no circumstances!” you exclaim, angrily marching into the frigidly cold room with both brothers in tow. “But now look! Almost half of the centerpieces have wilted!” you bemoan while pointing at a group of flowers in fine crystals vases.

Vergil inspects the various peonies in question and immediately understands why you’re so distraught. A vast majority of their petals have shriveled up and turned brown, completely ruined just before the wedding. The sight of you biting your lip and pulling your hair in worry wrenches the growing prickling knot within his chest.

“Is there anything I can do?” he inquires, gently grabbing your shoulders while staring down into your glistening eyes.

Your brow furrows in thought. “I might be able to salvage some of them with fresher blooms…but they’re all back at my garden’s workshop!” you inform while glancing down towards his waist. “Could I borrow the Yamato for a bit?” you implore sweetly as your lips curl into a charming grin.

Vergil smirks at your hopeful plea. “But of course.”

You beam up at him a grateful smile, unwinding the discomforting knot in his chest as you instruct the staff to haul all the half-frozen flowers into the kitchen. Both brothers stay out of your way while sharing intrigued glances, clearly impressed with your command over a highly stressful situation. Your eyes squint at the withered half of the centerpieces, mentally weighing how many more flowers you need to fix them.

“Hmm, we may need to take one more person to haul all the flowers back in one trip.”

Dante perks up with a wide grin. “I can tag along!”

“I’m more than capable of carrying all the flowers without assistance,” Vergil boldly claims with a determined nod.

“Oh really? I see…” Dante trails off while giving him a knowing grin. “You just wanna be alone so you can put your tulips togeth- WHOA!” he exclaims as multiple spectral swords surround him. “Hey! Don’t ruin the suit, big bro!”

A low and irritable growl emanates from Vergil’s throat. “Cease your prattling and go help Nero,” he demands while relenting to his foolish brother’s request, calling off the summoned swords from shredding his black and red suit to pieces.

Dante lets out a disappointing groan as he stalks out of the kitchen, grumbling under his breath about how all this waiting around is boring. Vergil rolls his eyes and shakes his head before directing his attention back to you, paying no mind to the staff’s slightly perturbed faces while offering his arm. You wrap your hand around the crook of his elbow with an amused giggle and follow him out of the kitchen.

Vergil heads to the closest room with enough space before summoning the Yamato with a flick of his wrist. He insists that you stand back before unsheathing the blade and slicing the air with two intersecting slashes. Then, he sheaths the Yamato with a loud click of the hilt as the portal opens with a bright blue flash. You grab his hand and run through its threshold, popping up just outside the back gate behind your cozy home.

You quickly undo the latch and dash towards your outdoor workshop with Vergil hot on your heels. The overwhelming perfume of your impressive garden brings a fond smile to his face as both of you run down winding paths between lush flowers and trimmed bushes. He pulls ahead a little when you get closer to the workshop, reaching out and opening the door with a courteous nod as you enter with a sigh of gratitude. You flip the light switch before scurrying off towards a large cold case full of fresh blooms.

Vergil enters the workshop as you begin counting out the number of flowers you have on hand. He shuts the door and lingers close behind you, patiently waiting for your next directive while taking in your pleasing visage. But you seem to not notice his blatant gaze, diligently focused on taking inventory as you take out a step stool to count the flowers on the top shelf. His eyes wander down your dainty body, admiring the delicate flowers embroidered on the lovely pink dress that brings out your natural charm and radiant grace.

Your pensive hum breaks him out of his adoring stupor. “Looks like I have plenty of yellow peonies but not enough white ones,” you inform with a disheartening pout.

“Can you substitute them with another flower?” he suggests, recalling your lesson on improvising a bouquet when he helped you arrange one for a customer.

You ponder for a moment. “I do have some white hydrangeas!” you exclaim with a victorious grin while turning to look at him. “Can you- Ah!”

Your feet wobble as you let out a startled squeal, losing your balance on the step stool before tipping over towards the ground. But Vergil surges forward and catches you within his protective embrace, wrapping his arms around your small frame.

“Oh snapdragons,” you murmur while clasping the lapels of his coat.

Vergil smirks at your stunned exclamation. “Are you okay?”

Your lips curl into a gracious. “Yes! And it’s all thanks to my darling devil!”

“You should be more careful, my beloved rose,” he murmurs while looking down at you in concern. “It pains me to see you hurt,” he admits as the gravity of this intimate situation takes control.

Vergil bows his head as you raise yourself up onto your tippy toes, slowly drawing closer and closer until your bated breath caresses his starving mouth. Then, he gently presses his lips against yours, letting out a pleased hum when you return his tender kiss with enthusiastic passion. You let out a delightful sigh as he withdraws from your lips with a warm smile.

“I’ve longed to do that again since yesterday morning.”

“Me too,” you agree. “We didn’t have much of a chance to talk more at the rehearsal dinner either,” you remind while averting your gaze with a coy smirk.

“Between the chaotic run-through of the ceremony and our rushed practice session,” he recalls, nuzzling your face until your lips brush his eager mouth. “What a most inconvenient time to confess.”

“Since when has love ever been convenient?” you muse with a playful peck. “We’ll have more time to talk after our performance,” you pause as he presses a soft kiss above the corner of your mouth. “And during the reception,” you finish before capturing his lips with your needy kiss.

Vergil growls as his tongue brushes against your lower lip, silently requesting for entry as you wrap your arms around his neck. You part your mouth for him, softly moaning while meeting every stroke of his questing tongue. He basks in your intoxicating scent, so flowery and arousing…the devil inside him clamors to claim you as his own. But he’s able to clamp that instinct down, prolonging that inevitable need when the time is right…which will definitely be later since the door of your workshop bursts open with a loud crack.

“Fiddlin’ Firs!” you exclaims, hastily jumping back from his embrace as the spectral form of his devilish side peeks in with an expectant look.

“Be at ease,” he soothes you with a swift peck against your brow. “It’s only my doppelganger.”

You squint as his phantom form points at the white hydrangeas it collected just outside your workshop. “But he looks so much different than you!” you note with a curious tilt of your head.

Vergil chuckles at your subtle suspicion. “Remember what I told you,” he whispers close to your ear, “the power of Sparda is vast and you have yet to see an ounce of its potential.”

You shiver as he kisses your neck. “Does the power of Sparda include sweeping sweet gardeners off their feet?”

“I’m not certain,” he remarks, “but it does include…how did you put it?” He tilts his head in thought. “Ah! Charming the petals off of a lovely rose,” he reveals with a smirk while meeting your ardent gaze. Your cheeks grow pink as he dips back down for another kiss…but his doppelganger stops him from indulging in your velvety lips again with its impatient scratching at the door.

You stifle a giggle as he growls irritably at his spectral self. “We better head back with these flowers,” you reason with a sweet smile. “Don’t wanna be late to your own son’s wedding!”

Vergil reluctantly withdraws from you with an agreeing nod. He helps you collect all yellow peonies and white hydrangeas into several flower trays. You manage to pick up a few of them as he opens up another portal with the Yamato, silently commanding his doppelganger to carry as many flowers as possible before following them back into the venue’s kitchen.

A chorus of various shocked gasps and cries from the astonished staff greets them, but they all scamper away as the monstrously tall spectral devil enters the room. You put the flower trays down on a nearby table with a sigh of relief, softly hoping that this sliver of peace and quiet would last as you fix the ruined centerpiece in a timely manner. Your lips curl into a pleased smile when you turn to see his doppelganger wagging its tail proudly next to all the flower trays it dropped off by your makeshift worktable.

The sound of rushed footsteps gets their immediate attention just as the wedding planner enters the kitchen with a worried grimace. You explain the current state of the flowers but assure her that you have everything under control now. She nods her head with a relieved smirk while side-eying the spectral devil standing next to you, clearly curious but not commenting on it as she informs Vergil that the groom’s party is taking their place at this very moment.

“You’re certain that you can do all of this without any assistance?” he inquires as the wedding planner leaves the kitchen.

“Of course! Just be-leaf in me,” you reply with a cheery grin before giggling as he scoffs at your ridiculously bad pun. “Buuuut I wouldn’t mind if you let him stay and help!” you suggest while pointing at his doppelganger, who is currently helping you arrange the assortment of flowers on the table.

Vergil ponders for a moment before nodding his head. “Very well…but you better be on your best behavior!” he instructs his spectral self with a suspicious glare. You laugh as his doppelganger shrugs its shoulders defensively while shaking its horned head.

“And I’ll meet you backstage as soon as I can before our performance,” he softly affirms, swiftly pulling you in close for a quick kiss before heading out of the kitchen.

It only takes him a few minutes to arrive at the designated place outside on the beach. Many of the guests are already in their seats along the elegant runner leading all the way down to a modest arch wrapped in white silky ribbon with sunflowers and blue delphiniums. He can hear their excited murmurs over the soft crashing of the nearby surf as he makes his way towards his assigned spot on the groom’s side.

Nero is already standing in front of the arch, shifting around nervously while adjusting the blue dahlia boutonniere pinned to his crisp white suit. He looks up as his father approaches him and immediately pulls out a matching boutonniere from inside his coat pocket. Vergil gives him a gracious nod while pinning the delicate bloom to the lapel of his coat.

“Is everything alright?” his soon-to-be wedded son asks with a soft whisper as classical music starts playing over the ecstatic chatter of the guests.

“It’s nothing for you to be concerned about,” Vergil assures while looking out into the gathering crowd of unfamiliar faces. “Everything is under control.”

Nero nods with an anxious swallow. “Yeah…okay.”

Vergil quirks a brow at his son. “Nervous?”

“What? No!” Nero exclaims in a hushed whisper. “Well…maybe a little,” he admits while scratching the back of his head.

“Don’t sweat it, kid!” Dante exclaims as he pops up behind both of them. “You’ve got this!” he adds with an encourage pat on his nephew’s back.

“I must agree with your fool of an uncle for once,” Vergil avows as everyone begins to quiet down.

His son responds with a grateful smile as the ceremony starts with the wedding officiant taking their place in front of the arch. The music gradually swells as the bridal party walks down the aisle with their beautiful dresses and lovely bouquets…except Nico, who proudly struts down in her black suit. She grins while taking her place as the Best Woman, cheekily wiggling her eyebrows at Nero when everyone stands up for the bridal march.

The crashing waves in the distance grow quiet as Kyrie slowly makes her way down the aisle, leaving only the collective gasps of the guest’s to accompany the sweet melody of her march. She clutches her bouquet of sunflowers below her chest as her pure white dress flutters softly in the sea breeze. Her lips curl into a sunny smile beneath her tulle veil when she sees Nero staring in awe at her warm and graceful beauty. But he snaps out of his amazed daze as soon as his soon-to-be wife reaches the arch, reaching for her hand with a small smirk before facing the wedding officiant together.

An array of emotions fills the salty air as the ceremony commences; one moment there’s silent admiration with some light laughter in between the simple rituals of matrimony, but then there’s plenty of soft sniffling and happy tears as the officiant guides them through their vows. Even the Dark Slayer isn’t immune to the palpable emotions surrounding him, unexpectedly getting misty eyed as they exchange rings and promises of eternal devotion.

Vergil happens to catch sight of you lurking behind the guests, seemingly watching the ceremony but mostly staring at him with a smitten smile upon your lips. He suddenly finds himself pondering about the prospect of marriage while blinking away his unshed tears. The image of his beloved rose dressed all in white drifts across his mind and he can’t help but to smirk at the thought of settling down with someone like you.

Your eyes widen when you finally notice him staring right back at you with his affectionate gaze. You look away bashfully while your flushed cheeks glow as red as the bleeding heart flowers upon your head. His lips curve into an endearing smile as the officiant allows Nero and Kyrie to seal their blissful union with a kiss. And as everyone showers the newly wedded couple with periwinkle petals, he realizes just how lucky he was to come upon such a lovely rose among his briars.

🌹🌹🌹

Tagging: @drusoona @bettybattaglia @exsultry @thedyingmoon @veenus-ow @meowykittenn @fandomhell97 @vergilsangel @thenightgazer @cherryvane @yesno18 @diabeticsugarush @queenmuzz @mary-v-o-n @tinamalee @a-midsummer-nights-odyssey @ancientwhitefire @agentdedf1sh @divinity-deos @shiranyaaww @skarlet-red-rose @lucinalu219 @superluckystar

#vergil #vergil x reader #devil may cry #dmc #a rose among the briars #Sowing the Seeds of Lasting Love #IT'S FINALLY HERE YAYYY #this is the first out of three chapters for this part 👀#hope ya'll enjoy all the shenanigans and sweet kisses!#harlot writes

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barfzal · 5 years

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warm honey

word count: 3,500

warnings: lots of smut

requested: yes sir!

a/n: alright alright alright, friends. here is some more of the tender mat smut you guys have been wanting! i really hope you all like it, and thank you for all the kind words on my previous posts. if you dig this one and have other boys i should write about, lmk. and if you’re sick of seeing me in the barzal tag, so am i. i don’t want to love this idiot. anyways, this one was inspired by lovesong - the cure, and just a tiny disclaimer that the french in here is all credited to like my little to no knowledge from duolingo and google translate, so if it’s wrong or worded weird, and you know how to fix it, please lmk. anyways, much love as always ⋆ mia

Epsom salts effervesce in the comfortably hot water of the porcelain tub you rested in. The oversized window in the bathroom offers a prepossessing view of the forested British Columbia, and with the smaller windows of the bathroom cracked open, you can hear the songs of the native birds over the fizzling of the minerals. To your right was a glass tray that contained your delicate signet ring with a cursive ‘MB’ engraved into it, a ceramic mug of freshly steeped green tea, and a small glass jar of honey with a spoon dipped in. Your attention is stolen away from the view when you hear the light footsteps of your boyfriend through the door, and your lips involuntarily curl into a smile when you see him. “Hey,” you breathe out. The white towel wrapped around his broad hips hardly covered much, and was entirely pointless as he pulls it off of him. “I hope you don’t mind if I disturb your peace,” he says while lifting one knee and putting his foot in the opposite end of the large bathtub. You lift your knees into your chest to allow him room as he sinks into the water; his presence sends a wave in the water, and it pushes over your breasts and to your collar bones. Once Mat is resting with his back into the opposite end of the tub, he pulls your ankles between his open thighs, and he rests your feet on top of his strong chest. His rough, veined palms tenderly slide up and down the smooth surface of your calves and shins, and in response you let out a content sigh.

Your eyes lift, and just above the water was the rigid surface of his abdomen, the muscles are relaxed but maintain great definition. His broad shoulders filled the frame of the oversized oval shaped porcelain tub. His cord necklace is loosely wrapped around the tendons in his throat and rests between the valley of his prominent collar bones. His stare was fixated on the surface of your skin he was rubbing, until he noticed your eyes on him, and his eyes lift to meet yours. They were a lighter olive tone, especially with the sun pouring through the open window, and you heard him speak, but forgot to listen while you looked into his eyes. “Come here,” you murmur with your own little grin. His eyebrows furrow only a little from curiosity, but he is already shifting his hips, lifting them to move in towards you, and you lift your back from the tub to press a softhearted kiss into his lips. His lips are supple, and he opens his mouth to let out a warm sigh between your lips as he kisses you. His hands move to cup your cheeks, and he presses his tongue to the space between your lips and sinks his lips onto your bottom lip where he sucks for a few moments. Your cheeks are already warm and flushed when you draw apart, and your eyes meet his. With your arms you beckon him to you, and he turns over, his shoulder blades shifting, and he leans his muscled back into your breasts. His hands wrapping around your knees under the water as he rests between your open thighs. Your arms wrap around him, not entirely able to make it over the width of his shoulders. You lift one damp hand to his head, and your fingers seep into the softness of his dark hair. Your nose presses behind his ear, you can still smell the lingering of his cologne behind his ear. You smooth a kiss over the part just behind his earlobe, and he lets out a quiet moan that comes out like it does when he awakes every morning.

Your fingers gently tug the silk strands of his hair so he will lean his head back into your chest. His head eases into the space between your breasts and your collarbones, and with everything going quiet, he focuses on the beat within your chest. So often you were the little spoon, and you were easily consumed by his big frame, but whenever you get to cradle him to you, it spreads a different kind of happiness over you. You press a kiss into his forehead, and now your head rests atop his. “I love you, you know that?” he murmurs with a half turned smile, and it makes you let out a little giggle. “I love you,” you whisper back over his forehead while pressing a kiss just above his eyebrows. Your wet fingers slick back his damp hair, and he shifts slightly in your arms, secretly loving the way your nails feel against his scalp. “You like that?” you ask slightly amused at how he twisted in your arms like a kitten. “Oui,” he mumbles back with his face burying into your chest with a shy smile. “Anthony teach you that?” you joke with a light giggle at his French he tried to keep sharp with his best friend. He let out a soft laugh that sounded sweeter than the song of the birds you had been listening to.

Mat leans into your embrace and presses another kiss into your lips, but it translated differently. His hands tenderly slide over your body under the surface of the water, and they brush over the curve of your hips to your waist as he presses his lips into yours. You breathe into the kiss, and he meets your breathe with a quite moan pressed between your lips. His hands have a firm but tender grip on your flesh as he runs them over your chest. His fingers sink into the softness of your breasts and he squeezes them gently, and he groans at the supple feeling of your flesh under his palms. His lips leave yours, and he sloppily presses a kiss on the edge of your bottom lip and your chin. His kisses trail down your chin, over the outline of your jaw, down the center of your throat. He drags his teeth over the nape of your neck, but brushes his tongue over it faintly as he closes his mouth into the spot making your mouth open, and you breathe out audibly. His hand moves under your breast to cup it, and he wraps his lips around your nipple and hums as he sucks on it. His lips curl over it, and as your eyes open, you watch him lift his dark lashes and meet you with his green hued eyes. His mouth opens, and you see his tongue flatten over your nipple before he sinks his teeth into it gently, and you whimper. “Baby,” you whine out as your fingers wrap around the wrist of his hand nestled under your breast. Mat’s tongue slides over your nipple before lifting his open mouth to yours. Your lips meet and melt into a wet kiss. Your eyes close as you feel the pressure of his lips on yours, and your eyes open when he pulls back from the kiss, both of you breathing a little heavier than before.

“You like that?” he mocks your prior question, and you let out a hushed giggle as your forehead brushes against his and he presses a kiss into the bridge of your nose. “Oui,” you mimic his response and he lets out a quiet chuckle, knowing just how poor your own French was in comparison to his. “More than that cup of tea you were having before I came in?” he questions you with a small smirk. With your fingers lacing over his smooth hair that’s curling slightly as it dries, you smile back to him. “I didn’t even get to have a sip before you interrupted me,” you tease back. Mat turns to pick up the mug, and he takes a sip. His tongue runs over his lips after he swallows it, the adams apple in his throat shifting as he does so. “Needs some honey,” he murmurs with a little smile. Your hand extends to the jar of honey, and your finger runs over the edge, gathering some of the thick sweetener on your finger and bringing it to his lips. He sucks the small tip of your finger while looking into your eyes, and slowly his lips pull from your finger, leaving behind some of his saliva. You bring the finger tip to your tongue and lick his saliva from it which makes him grin. He was so enamored with the way you loved him so wholly.

Mat grasps your hips and sinks back to his knees in the tub, and in one swift motion, he gracefully slides you up onto his lap. His fingers slide over your wet hair and runs his fingers through it, pushing it back before his lips press into yours again, and you sigh sweetly into the kiss. “I love you,” you both breathe out into the kiss at the same time, and he presses another kiss into your wide smile, both of you so entirely synchronized like the two of you were one at some point. You press another kiss into him through smiles you try to maintain but are failing horribly at concealing. His fingers slide over your throat and his thumb strokes the surface of your cheek. You look into his eyes, and see his eyes tracing over the details of your face, and you feel the warmth creeping to your face. You remember what it had been like when the two of you first started seeing each other. The rush of adrenaline you would get when you felt his eyes on you. His eyes mirrored his admiration, and now he lifts his eyes up to yours. He chuckles softly while his hands seep into the fullest portion of your hips. He grabs you there, pulling you deeper into him even though you’re already nestled in his lap, and your head sinks into his shoulder, your face pressing into the crook of is neck.

“I want you,” he whispers against your ear, lips tracing over your ear before kissing into your earlobe, and with one hand sliding between your thighs he presses his shaft, that has grown without your knowledge, against your warm spread open slit, with your thighs straddling him. He slides it gently over you, and he groans quietly. He leans back, legs fanning out behind you as he rubs the tip of himself over your slit back and forth. His lips hang open, and you watch him hiss as he presses his thick cock over your pussy. Your hands grasp the edges of the luxurious tub while you lift your hips, and you slowly slip onto him. As you sit down on to him, both of you let out a low moan together. Mat rests back into the shallow water, his head leans back into the tub while you move your hands to the strong surface of his chest. You look down at him; his chest is wet and glimmering, and his biceps are flexed as he holds your hips. His lips part as he moans out at the warmth and tightness of you around him, fitting him like a glove as you sink down onto him. His cock fills you up, the first thrust was always painful; no matter how much the two of you went at it, it would never prepare you for the initial sting of being stretched open by his shaft. Your whimper is what makes him gradually lift his hips into you, and he holds you up by the waist. His hips slowly rocking under you as he pushes himself up into you. Your moans fall from the edge of your lips with ease as he does. His cock plunges into you over and over, his hips now increasing speed as he buries himself inside of you. “Fuck,” he groans out; his noises come deep from the back of his throat. The wet strands of his hair stick to his cheek and the back of his neck and some fall in front of his forehead while he thrusts. Your eyes lift to watch him as his eyes roll back until they close. “You feel so good,” he lets out while thrusting up into you. Your breasts bouncing from the way he pushes so deeply and hard up into you. Your hands grasp onto his chest to hold yourself steadily on top of him. “Mat,” you struggle to get out before sinking down onto him. His hips relax, and he rests in the tub. He lifts his eyes to yours, and you lift your hips before slowly sliding back down onto him, and grinding your hips back and forth with him fully inside of you. His fingers find your thighs and he squeezes you there, gripping on to you. “God, yes,” he sputters out while breathing heavily.

As you lift your hips to bring them back down with your eyes closed, Mat grabs your hips and starts to push you off of his cock. You gasp at the loss of contact, your eyes snapping open, and he lets out a laugh at your reaction. “Come here,” he whispers to you as he lifts you before pushing you to the edge of the tub, a broad porcelain edge that you find yourself sitting down. Before you are able to settle into position, you feel Mat pry your thighs apart. You are about to joke about his eagerness when he sinks his tongue into your wet pussy, and both of you moan upon contact. His moan muffled into your mound as he forces his tongue inside of you and slowly pulls it out, sliding it up your folds and to your clit. His pink lips wrap around your clit, and he hums as he sucks on it, his tongue flicking over it, his saliva rolling between your slit. You gasp out, and watch him. He closes his eyes, groaning as he savors your flavor. His tongue flicking between your thighs makes sweet noises that make you moan. The light stubble that was growing over his jaw brushes against your inner thigh, and his lips glisten as he pulls back. He delicately kisses the inside of your inner thigh before he purses his lips and spits on your pussy. His fingers slide over your slit and rubs the saliva into it, before he raises his eyes to observe you. “Fuck,” you whine out, toes curling in the air. He raises his arched, dark brows and flashes you a smug grin. He presses a kiss into your pussy before he gingerly slides his tongue back over it. “Vous avez si bon goût,” he murmurs into you before kissing your clit once more, showing off his French that you were sure Anthony did not teach him.

“Please fuck me,” you whine out through heavy moans, already growing impatient after his nimble licks and constant teasing. He presses another kiss into your pussy before a smile forms over his lips. “Ask me in French,” he challenges you with a smirk. “S'il vous plaît,” you oblige quietly, with a shy smile forming over your lips. Mat giggles at your own French. “That’s my girl. Come see how good you taste,” he whispers as he brings himself up on his knees, his fingers lacing behind your neck as he pulls your lips into his. You fervently kiss him now, your tongue flicking over his as you taste yourself on his lips. He moans into your mouth while he rubs his cock over your slit. Your fingers wrapping around his strong, full biceps and he pushes into you, making you gasp against his tongue. “Oh my god,” you stutter out. He sinks into you, his fingers holding the back of your neck. Your forehead presses into his and your nose brushes against his as he holds your face to his. “Look into my eyes,” he murmurs to you while he pushes in you and then draws out. You struggle to keep your eyes open through the euphoria that piled up inside of you. Your muscles were clenching and relaxing, and your leg starts to tremble as your own orgasm nears. “I’m gonna cum,” you choke out through long moans and your breathes that becomes more strained. His hand moves to the front of your throat, not tightly, but holding you there as he bites his bottom lip. His own breathing came out harder, and he held back groans that sounded like growls. “Cum for me,” he encourages you in a raspy, strained voice while his other hand slides down between the two of you, his thumb brushes over your clit, and he holds his thumb down to it and rubs firmly. The pleasure tears through you like strikes of lightning. Your head feels heavy and your vision is blurred as you come down from your high. Mat pushes in and out, moving leisurely before coming to a stop; his length rests inside of you to let you acclimate. You blink and pant heavily, and you feel Mat’s lips brush against yours. “Good girl,” he hums out while kissing you again.

The calm that washes over you after an orgasm makes you let out a soft laugh, and he matches it. His own laugh was contagious and you press a kiss into his lips. “Follow me,” you say to him as your smile eases. You pull off of him and climb off of the tub. Mat rises to his feet, moving from the tepid water and following you into the bedroom just off of the bathroom. You turn to face him and with your small fingers entangled with his, you push him into the bed. His body still wet and glimmering, but you would worry later about the wet sheets. You sink down between his thick thighs, your hands brushing over the strong, muscled surface of his thighs, and you slide your tongue over his hard cock, tasting yourself on him, like you marked him as your own. His eyebrows furrow, knitting together as he watches you with parted lips. You take in the sight of him. His fingers rake through his own hair, pushing strands of it back, his abdomen flexes as he takes in deep breaths, the muscles clenching when you press a kiss into the underside of his cock. “Oh my god, yes,” he stutters, his khaki colored eyes rolling back in his head. “You are so fucking hot,” he groans out, his head rolling back, showing off the definition of his jaw and neck. Beads of water roll down his strong torso, and his chest glistens. His teeth press to his bottom lip as your lips wrap around him and you suck on the tip of him. His fingers slide over your hair, and he brushes the side of your cheek with his thumb, his eyes focused on you as you lick him. He moans quietly, and your eyes meet his. You could see the intense bliss he felt in his eyes, and he gasps. He takes you by your cheek and pulls you from his cock when he feels his orgasm building, wanting to save it for you. His thumb wipes the saliva from your chin before he brings your lips to his.

Mat kisses you with passion dripping from his lips, before he turns you over. He wraps one of his strong arms around you and pulls your back into his chest, his fingers sliding down your stomach and slowly he pushes himself back into you, to finish off the blissful evening. He wraps his hand over your breast, and buries his face between your neck and your shoulder. He presses light kisses into your shoulder blade while he thrusts into you. His cock pushing into you and hitting your spot just right, making you ache from your prior orgasm. “I’m gonna cum,” he pants out as he thrusts sloppily and harshly up into you. His hand clenches your waist, and he pulls you back deeper into his embrace, his large frame engulfing yours. His heavy breathing is loud against your ear as he holds you close into him. “Oh my god baby,” he whimpers. His lips open and he lets out a string of moans between ropes of his cum shooting inside of you. It’s thick and warm inside of you, and he holds you into his body, his thighs tensing and relaxing after his orgasm. He swallows down a few heavy breaths, and lazily presses kisses just behind your ear. After a few moments, of your heartbeat ringing in your ear, and your balmy skin feeling like electricity is running over it, you turn over to see a grin of total gratification on his face. You both let out soft laughter as you settle into his dewy arms. His warm, damp forehead rests against yours, and he lightly rubs the tip of his nose against yours. “I love you,” you breathe out into his lips. “Je t’aime,” he responds while his lips smooth a kiss over your forehead, and his fingers trace delicate patterns over your back.

#mat barzal #mat barzal smut #mat barzal fic #mat barzal imagine #new york islanders #mia's writing

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