vibrant, saccharine, his ☼ (fwb!mat barzal x fwb!fem reader)
genre: filthy smut, fluff, angst with happy ending
summary: pretending is getting harder, for both of them. and after a hard roadie, mat’s not sure if he wants to pretend anymore.
words: 8.7k (WOAH)
warnings: cursing, excessive use of parentheses, friends with benefits arrangement, smut, unprotected piv, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, blood (reader bit lip too hard oops!), pet names (baby, sweetheart, pretty boy), reader is described as having sisters and a dog, food mention, idiots to lovers, misunderstood situation, reader uses she/her pronouns, and i think that’s it.
a/n: when i started this, i originally was just writing a blurb and then it turned into a full ass fic with a plot?? and fwb??? idk man, im nervy to post this since ive never published for nhlers before but oh whale! and ty to @eminems-skittles for reading this for me and checking it over 🤍 love u
“You played so good, baby.” She breathed, welcoming him home with open arms.
“Not good enough, apparently.” He responded, letting her fingers card through his raven locks. Soft, freshly cut. She loved when he grew it out, but yet again it was him, so anything worked.
She sighed, letting her thumb fall to his cheekbone, knowing what he was referring to. It had been the last stop of the road trip, he’d had a hatty and despite making it to OT, it wasn’t enough in the shootout.
He’d had to wait an entire flight and car ride afterwards to see her, only giving her a brief text when he got off the ice (“We lost. Had a hatty. Fucking Toronto.”) (like she hadn’t stayed up to watch the game) and another when he landed.
And after so long of whatever the two of them had going on, she’d known better than to try to send him some long and winded attempt at a pick me up message. She settled for just responding “I’ll be here.” She didn’t need to say it though, he knew she’d be there.
She always was.
To anyone else it would’ve been sad, how she waited up for him, late nights spent lonely with just her and her dog, as he jetted around North America. In her mind, he was no doubt giving himself away to whatever random puck bunny threw herself his way.
Despite this, she was loyal, even though she had her suspicions about what he did when they were apart. And frankly, it wasn’t a part of the “deal” that they had to be exclusive, and it was none of her business. But truthfully, after so long, she couldn’t count on some washed up juniors player to give her even a fraction of the satisfaction he had.
So, she did this whole routine, whatever this was. She stayed up late watching his games, sitting on her couch in his sweatshirt he left. She wouldn’t admit it out loud, but whenever she wore it, she liked to pretend.
Pretend that she was an obedient girlfriend wearing her loving boyfriends sweater. That as she sat curled up waiting on the corner of the beat up black sofa, 3 coffees in at approximately 1:37 am, she would be rewarded for her efforts come morning time.
That her and said loving boyfriend would lounge around together in bed (after he woke her up in the best way he knew how, showing her how grateful he was. Like I said, she loved when his hair was long enough to tug on, and even though she endlessly made fun of his patchy stubble, she couldn’t deny how delicious it felt burning between her thighs. Especially after they’d spent so long apart.) Then they’d go and grab late brunch, holding hands under the table as they sipped mimosas, which were Mat’s guilty pleasure only her and the waiter knew about, before heading home.
Maybe then they’d FaceTime his mom back in Coquitlam, an early riser with the 3 hour time difference. Mat had felt bad interrupting her morning routine, but she’d never pass up an opportunity to talk to her boy and the girl who she hoped was her future daughter in law.
After they got off the phone, she’d tell him how much she loved his mom, how her cheeks hurt from smiling so much. He’d tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, watching as she leaned into his touch.
“Missed you, Mat.” She’d say, closing her eyes.
“I missed you more.” He’d respond, his voice nearly a whisper. Her eyes would flutter open, and he’d recognize the look in them immediately. He felt his blood rush, and suddenly their proximity, which he’d never get used to, was very obvious.
“Oh yeah?” She asked. “I doubt that.”
He swallowed, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. Her eyes hungrily swept over them, wanting nothing more than to lean forward and capture them with her own.
But patience is a virtue, she supposed.
“Want me to prove it, pretty boy?”
Words failed him, and all he could do was nod. He relaxed into the sofa, watching as she dropped to her knees in front of him. Her hands were on either thigh as he fought the urge to lay his tired head back onto the beat up pleather behind him. It had been too long, he thought. And he’d be damned if he was going to miss out on seeing her do what he’d only imagined in the shower, or over the phone for the past 16 days.
She reached her hands up from the muscle of his thigh up to his tummy, her cold hands shocking him as she reached under his sweatshirt- the same one she’d been wearing before.
Her hands drifted, down, down, down, to the waistband of those damn Lululemon shorts she’d got him for Christmas. He held his breath, watching as they danced around where he needed her most and then-
The doorknob turns, and she’s brought back to reality. Sleep had almost claimed her, iced coffee left abandoned on the coffee table, a ring of condensation already drying on the glass. She attempts to smooth out her hair, hoping that her brief almost-nap hadn’t left her too disheveled.
Not that he’d care.
She stood to greet him as he opened the door, hockey bag, and garment bag, and duffle bag, and backpack, and- God, did he really need all that- and suitcase, dropped unceremoniously as he entered the threshold. He kicked the huge bag to the side, and it landed right under where her keys and her leash for her old mutt, Warrior, hung from the wall.
Above the leash hung a picture of her and her sisters, with her running shoes on the floor beneath it for easy access. They were nearly squished by the gear, and if it had been anyone else’s shit crushing her 160 dollar sneakers, she’d be angry. But the sight of his bag near her shoes was so weirdly domestic, she could’ve cried.
She, yet again, was snapped out of her fantasy by the closing of the heavy door, watching as the man in front of her shuffled forward, immediately allowing himself to be held by her. His head fell to her shoulder, and rather than the usual clash of teeth and shoving to get to her room, (they never went to never his place after a roadie. He needed to be away from the constant reminders of it all for awhile, just to be surrounded by her) she simply dropped a chaste kiss to his temple, letting her arm drop from his hair to his broad shoulders, squeezing once, twice, three times, on either one.
He stood up, and she led him to her room, though he knew the way well enough. Her hand in his felt nice, comforting, even, and he wasn’t going to complain. In the beginning of the arrangement the two of them had, touches like that had been normal. But as time went on, the barely there brushes and gentle caresses stopped all together.
He wanted to say something, wanted to ask her what was wrong, if it was something he did. But when he was off the ice, Mathew Barzal was not a man who liked to push his luck. So he didn’t. He let the touches slip away, and took what he could get from her.
Which right now, was toeing off his shoes, and crawling onto the plush comforter of her bed. It smelled like that sparkly ”fairy dust” shit from Lush he saw sitting on her bathroom counter once, cotton candy and bubblegum infiltrating his senses. That, and her favorite floral perfume he was all too familiar with on her pillow. A combination of scents he usually would find too much, sickly-sweet. But it was her, and that alone made it the most soothing aroma he’d ever known.
Initially when he’d gotten off the ice, the adrenaline had been pumping, and his anger had been rampant. All he’d wanted was to get home to her, have his way with her. To have an outcome he could control.
He’d kept himself relatively calm in the locker room, not having any outbursts towards Ilya, or anyone for that matter. If any of the guys had noticed he was uncharacteristically quiet, they didn’t say anything.
That is, until the bus ride to the airport.
He had been typing out his text to her, (Hatty, lost in OT, Toronto, you know the one), when he had felt a pair of peering eyes. Sitting in the back of the bus, he’d thought he’d done well to avoid such glances, but apparently not.
“Y’know, you shouldn’t be sulking so much.” A certain French-Canadian spoke, the brunette man’s tired eyes lingering over Mat’s hunched over form.
If there was one thing he didn’t need right now, it was more pep talks from Tito. He’d had more than his fill in the locker room. And though he loved the guy, he didn’t need to be told again how he “did everything right” and had a ”killer game”.
Because he knows, and that’s partly why he’s so mad.
Partly. As the other part is the fact that he wants more than anything to come back to NY to her arms. He was exhausted at this point, and rather than having his way with her, he now just wanted to be welcomed home into those ridiculously cozy sheets. He wanted her to light up all those overpriced candles she loved so much from Bath and Bodyworks, and for Warrior to snuggle up by him, stinky dog breath be damned. He wanted her to turn on ”Miracle” in the back as white noise, and laugh as she repeated all the lines from memory. (He may be Canadian, but he can appreciate a heart warming story told by Kurt Russell when he sees one.)
More than anything, though, he wanted her. And not just for an hour or two before he inevitably dragged himself out of those silky sheets that felt heavenly on his back, leaving her sleeping beside him. She looked peaceful in those moments, and he often wondered what she dreamt of. If she was dreaming of him as he did of her.
Bottom line was, Mathew was the victim of a series of unfortunate events. And the man to his left could recognize that it wasn’t just the hockey that was bothering him. (Though, that whole situation did suck pretty bad, he’d admit.)
So when Anthony told him he shouldn’t be sulking, he flashed him a tight lipped smile and a nod, before looking out the window at the Toronto sunset. The oranges and pinks were stunning, and more than anything their vibrancy reminded him of her. The smile she’d give him in her post-orgasm glow, or of the orange blossom on the bottle of perfume on her vanity. Beauvillier’s gaze never faltered, though, recognizing the deep train of thought his close friend was experiencing.
The screen of his phone had begun to darken, the draft of his message just barely visible. Tito’s eyes quickly shifted from the screen and back up to Barzy, opening his mouth and pausing momentarily.
“Who’re you texting?”
Mat quickly turned off the device, the “click” sounding out in the quiet bus cabin, most of the Islanders players catching some shut eye or watching that new Game of Thrones spin off.
Personally, Mat didn’t get the appeal.
“Nobody, just… a friend I’m visiting tonight when we get back.”
Anthony’s eyebrows went up, making a face of understanding as he slowly nodded three times.
“A friend, huh?”
Mathew nods, taking his bottom lip between his teeth and letting it go. “Yup.” He adds softly for good measure, popping the p.
“You visiting a friend after a game like that, this late, hm?” Another pause. ”Must be an important friend.”
“Yeah.” His voice is soft again, compassion coming across his features and he thinks of her again.
“Well“, Anthony starts, popping in his earbuds and opening his phone to his Music app. “I’d say whatever’s going on with this friend seems worth talking to her about.”
Mat‘s head snaps up, and he scoffs, shaking his head.
“I didn’t say that it was a she-“
“You didn’t have to, buddy.” Tito winks in the most annoyingly-Tito way, and chuckles to himself. He then lays his head back onto the navy material behind him. Mat “hmph”s to himself, doing the same. He turns his phone back on again, going to the chat between the two of them. The still blinking cursor seems like it’s mocking him as he runs a hand over his face, hitting send.
If there’s gonna be any deep, emotional shit, it can wait until he’s not 2500 miles away.
7 hours later when he finally crashes through her front door, he swears the relief he feels mixed with the sense of dread it all might be over in an hour, gives him whiplash. But nonetheless, she welcomes him in, and she feels like home.
Warrior watches from the couch, his tail lazily wagging as he observes his owner greeting the man who occasionally slips him bacon from his Starbucks sandwich. His old man (old dog?) body doesn’t find the arrival of the hockey player worthy of leaving his nest on the sofa, as to him that’s all Mathew Barzal is. The bringer of bacon.
To Warrior’s owner, though, he was so much more.
The trek to the bedroom felt like it took an eternity, and as he laid on her bed, he couldn’t help but wonder if it would be a bad idea to push his luck for once. Risk ending it all to gain everything.
She laid down next to him, and he shifted, going from laying with his arms crossed under his head, to one next to her head, the other keeping him stable from his position on top of her.
Her hand crept up to push an unruly lock out of his eyes, and she leaned forward, and he met her halfway. They paused briefly, taking each other in after so long, before finally closing to distance.
He tasted warm, like cinnamon and something she couldn’t place, and she wondered if at the airport he’d gotten one of those pretzels she knew he liked so much. To compliment his psychopath reminiscent black coffee, of course.
His hand went from where it had been cradling her face down to rest on her hip. The soft touch elicited a whimper, and at that he pulled away, resting his forehead against hers.
She recognized that something was off, swimming around in that pretty little head of his. A small frown etched its way onto her face, and she lifted his chin up so he had no choice but to look at her.
“What’s wrong, Mat?”
He took in a shaky breath, looking over to his left, where the TV was on some random wallpaper, a sunset, he realizes. He scoffs, looking back at her.
“Can you just- can we- can I- fuck.” He mutters, slowly falling down so his body weight is nearly on top of her.
“Can you just… hold me?”
She swears she’s never heard him sound so broken.
“Yeah, baby, ’course. C’mere.” She replies softly, allowing him to fully rest on her. It was a miracle that he didn’t fully break down right there, at the feeling of her fingertips dancing over his skin, under his pushed up shirt. His nose was cold against her neck as he dragged it up against her to come to her cheek, pressing a kiss there. His eyes never opened, afraid that if they did, it would all just be another elaborate fantasy he’d created to pass the time.
“Is this a good idea?” Came her voice, cutting through the silence.
He sniffles. “What do you mean?”
“This. Us.” She says, not able to meet his gaze where he’s lifted his head.
“We’re going to get hurt. More than we already have.”
Oh. Oh, fuck this was happening right now. Mat sat up, feeling like a scared teenage boy. Damn you and the way you read people, Beauvillier. Maybe this would’ve been easier from 2500 miles away.
“We don’t have to.”
“What other option do we have?” She said, sounding defeated, like she already knows her answer and she doesn’t like it. “I-I can’t keep doing this no strings attached shit. Not when you do this. Not when you come here all beat up like some sad puppy.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. And he was.
“Don’t be. I should’ve known this would happen.” Her voice was soft, her eyes distant.
“That what would happen?” He questioned. She looked at him like he had two heads.
“That you’d leave, Mat. That this whole pretending bullshit wouldn’t be enough for me.”
He leaned forward again, catching her off guard.
“I’m not leaving you. I’d never leave you.”
She looked away briefly, mentally cursing herself for being so emotional as tears began to well up in her eyes. He fell to her side, forcing her to meet his gaze.
“Do you really want this?” She asked, the tears rolling down her face illuminated a hue of pink from the salt lamp on the bedside table. Mathew reached out a hand, dragging his thumb over the droplet. He hated that she was crying, but fuck, she sure looked pretty while doing it.
His answer came without thought, he’d done enough of that on his way over.
“Yes. I want you in every way, if you’ll have me.”
A small smile came onto the corners of her face, and she nodded, shortly at first, but more exaggerated as they started laughing, a small “yeah?” escaping from Mathew. She responded with the same, and he took that as his sign to reach forward, closing the distance between them.
And like all the times before, they fell into their routine, her hands going down to his hips, lifting the gray material of his shirt over his head. He returned the favor, the two of them moving in sync as she lifted her hips and he gently slid off her shorts. He ran his palms along her bare thighs and she shivered at the feeling, a reaction that didn’t go unnoticed by Mathew.
“I missed you, y/n.” He admitted, running a hand through his, now, unruly hair.
Another vibrant smile came across her face, easing whatever nerves Mat had left over from his confession.
“I missed you more, Mathew.”
He shook his head, dipping down to leave sloppy kisses on her neck. Taken aback, she let a shaky breath escape. He pulled back, satisfied with the response he’d pulled from her.
“Not possible.”
In a moment of boldness (and a slight hope to allow a fantasy to come to life) she challenged him.
“Prove it, then.”
His eyes darkened, then, and he surged forward. Her remaining clothes, which was just his sweatshirt and a flimsy cami, were gone in an instant. She was left in just a pair of black undies, Mat nearly cumming on the spot at the sight, like he’s some horny teenager. His apparel soon joined the growing pile on the floor, as she made a remark about how it wasn’t fair he was still so covered.
She shamelessly raked over his naked form, save for the black boxers, with his firm muscles, sore from the roadie, prominent as ever. She might’ve been drooling, she wasn’t sure. He smirked, the effect he had on her not lost to him.
The two began to kiss again, and there was no other way to describe it other than that it just felt right.
Mathew wasted no time, allowing his hand to trail down and cup her clothed heat, his thumb passing over her clit and past her entrance with a feather light touch. She shivered, her hips lifting up to chase the brief sensation. He pulled her panties to the side, teasing her entrance with his middle finger.
It was immediately covered in her slick, as was the black fabric he’d moved aside. It made him groan just from the sensation alone, making her chuckle at his behavior. Her laugh soon was cut off as he sunk the finger in, giving her no time to adjust, not that she needed it with how ready she was for it, before adding another.
His palm just barely grazed her begging clit as he pumped in and out slowly. And as she continued to lift her hips trying to feel him deeper, push his hand closer to her clit, she fully expected him to push her down and put her in her place.
But this whole thing was about showing him how much he missed her, how much he appreciated her. To show her that he was staying. And him staying meant that he’d have plenty of chances in the future to be an insufferable tease, but right now wasn’t one of those times.
“Matty, please-“ it was more of a breathy whine, not intelligible to an untrained ear. But thankfully for her, that wasn’t Mat.
“You want more, baby?” He questioned, knowing the answer. She nodded, hair splayed around her like a halo on the pillow. She was still illuminated from the TV screen and the salt lamp, making her look like an angel of sorts, not of this world.
“Look at me then, sweetheart. Wanna see that I’m makin’ you feel good.”
Her eyes that met his were glazed over and doe like, and it melted Mat’s insides at just one look. He did his best to push down the mushy feeling that arose, before realizing he didn’t have to anymore. He could feel as sickeningly in love as he wanted, no consequences.
“You’re so beautiful, baby. So needy, fuckin’ perfect girl.” He remarked, adding in a third finger. She let out a borderline pornographic cry, and Mat picked up his pace. His gaze only faltered from her face, contorting in pleasure, back to where he was pumping in and out of her, unable to resist the urge to watch in amazement.
Though her legs were flailing, going from propped up to sliding down and spread, rustling the comforter, she somehow had enough mind to reach a hand down. She attempted to run tight circles around her clit, but not before her hand was pinned to her side by the center above her,
“No, baby. Lemme.”
His range of motion was wider and his thrusts harder as he curled his fingers to perfectly hit that spot inside her that made her see stars, fully trailing his hand over her sex. He repeated the action again, and again, and again- and fuck, she didn’t know how long she’d go on like this but she never wanted the feeling to stop.
He felt her tighten around him, and he picked up his pace, knowing she was almost there.
“Mat!” she managed to get out between strangled moans and panting breaths. He leaned down, kissing below her ear on the one spot he knew drives her crazy. She was halfway thinking, well, less than halfway with her state at the moment, that he would cruelly pull his hand away as she reached her peak. So she clamped her thighs together in an attempt to trap him, subconsciously more than not.
It didn’t stop him from grinding his palm against her like he had been, leaning down to capture her lips with his in a searing kiss.
Everything at once was just so much, the obscene sounds coming from both their mouths and her wet heat, the feeling of Mathew’s bare skin on top of her, the feeling of warmth radiating from his body, and oh my God, after so long it’s fucking finally happening-
He felt as her chest seized and she pulled away from the kiss, her head slamming back before falling to the side. She cried out, her orgasm hitting her like nothing had before.
He found her lips in the chaos beneath him, his hand parting her thighs as she went lax, lazily pumping in and out as she rode out her high. Her slick coated the inside of her thighs, and Mat pulled away momentarily and she whined, like the little brat she was allowing herself to be.
He only smirked, leaning down to kiss on her collarbone, letting his tongue sweep over the seemingly shimmering expanse of skin before him. He moved further down, savoring the taste of her, how it felt to be so close to her. No guards up, no shields, no screening involved.
She moved her ring clad hands to run fingers through his locks, that fucking smile coming across her face. He looked up from where his hands were holding either side of her waist, his fingers digging into the soft flesh just enough to not make it hurt, but to say “I’m here. I’m not leaving.” His chin rested above her bellybutton, and he felt suddenly seen, bashful almost. He continued his trail down in a half assed attempt to hide his face, her breath hitching when he made it to her mound.
Her breath barely returned to her as he skipped over where she thought he was headed, instead opting to take her right leg over his shoulder, moving down the expanse of it to her ankle. He brought his eyes to meet hers, and a tender hand ran up and down the distance of it. He kissed the inside of her ankle, making his way up to the skin where her thigh met her already aching sex.
He lightly nudged his nose against the area, before attaching his lips. He started sucking on the skin there, licking her clean. Satisfied, he moved to the other side, beginning his good work.
“Mat,” she broke her silence, her voice splintered and low, “don’t tease. Please.”
He raised his eyebrows, seemingly in jest.
“I think we’re a little far gone from teasing, eh?” He asked, and truthfully, one mind blowing orgasm later, they were.
She chuckled, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever hotshot.”
“New nickname?” He questioned. “I like it.” He huffed, returning to his place between her legs. “But I fucking love this pussy, baby.”
And with that, he dove in. He immediately groaned at what he had found. (Which, obviously, caused her to tug at that perfect head of hair, eliciting another groan.)
If possible, she had become even wetter with the mix of his spit and her nectarine juices. It dripped down his chin, and he wanted to stay there forever. He’d found solace there, he thought. No Maple Leafs, no Tito, no hatty that meant jackshit in the end.
Just her and her consummate being. Vibrant, saccharine. His.
He wasn’t sure how long he spent drawing her closer and closer to the edge, but somewhere between repeated chants of praises and whatnot, he’d slipped.
“Fucking love this cunt, fucking love you-“
He hadn’t realized what he said, and if he had, he didn’t seem to care. But his words alone were enough to rip an unassuming orgasm from her. She didn’t allow herself long enough to think about if he meant to say it or not, or even to ride out the aftershocks rolling through her nerves. She grabbed him by the shoulders, forcing him away from her glistening cunt and up to where she connected their lips.
A small sound of surprise, not reluctance, escaped from where they were joined. Her hands came to cradle either side of his face, and Mat thinks that he might’ve cried from the tender action. He wasn’t sure, but he wasn’t going to ask. Hey, it’d been a long day.
“You mean it?”
He realized what he had said, then, eyes wide and somehow his face even more flushed than before. He considered lying, like when Tito had asked who he was texting and he’d said a friend.
But where would that leave him, he wondered?
“Yeah.”
“Yeah, I did.” He added after a beat of silence.
And in those few moments nothing had seemed scarier.
Not when he was 18, getting skipped over by teams in the draft, and that voice in the back of his head had told him that, somehow, everyone had collectively decided to skip Mathew Barzal. Not when he was 19 playing in his first game for the Isles, having to follow up Auston Matthews first NHL game where he had four goals. Four. Fuck.
No, all that was topped by this. By the same fear he’d had earlier when he’d been on the bus, or when he’d arrived at her apartment.
But all of that fear was dissolved in a second after her laugh sounded out in the small bedroom, her eyes crinkling at the edges. She pulled him down towards her, and the sound of her laughter pulled a radiant smile from the hockey player that he felt like hadn’t seen the light of day in a long time.
She rolled over on top of his chest, leaning forward and throwing her arms around his neck. His chain was glinting, now, in the light she had previously been bathed in, and it caught her eye as it rested against his milky complexion.
“You looooove me.” She regarded in a sing-song voice, and Mat rolled his eyes despite the smile growing on his face. She leaned down, and Mathew’s grip on her bare hips tightened, all too aware of the wet spot left on his stomach from her leaking sex.
She mirrored his previous movements down his chiseled body, a regular Adonis in his own right. She left open mouthed kisses, the wet patches from them adding to the thin sheen that covered his body. She made her way down to his boxers, the obvious tent making her stifle a laugh. He caught it though, of course, and rolled his eyes for what seemed like the millionth time.
“Laugh it up, babe. Laugh at my misery.” He commented, to which she only shook her head.
“Patience is a virtue, Mathew.”
“You’re one to talk.”
Well, he had a point there.
So rather than talk, she decided she’d put her mouth to good use. She pulled down his boxers at a painstakingly slow rate, watching as his cock slapped up against his stomach. Her mouth watered at the sight, the tip red and weeping, begging to be attended to. He kicked off the boxers, paying no mind to how they slipped onto the floor, forgotten. She didn’t either, as she was sure he had to have some extra in one of his gazillion bags sitting in her entry way.
Her nails scratched down his stomach, angry red lines puffing up and decorating around the expanse of his skin. They were accompanied by freckles and marks and scars that she could have mapped together with her eyes closed. She knew Mathew like the back of her hand. And with that, came knowing how to make him come undone in her hands.
She started leaving small kisses at the base of his shaft, before swiping the bead of precum from his head down to the rest of him. She pumped her hand a few times, and Mathew let out a strangled moan. She thought he couldn’t get any louder, feeling bad for her neighbors at whatever hour in the night it was, but she was quickly proven wrong.
She licked a long stripe from the bottom to his tip, before taking as much of him into her mouth as she could. She bobbed her head a few times, jacking off whatever she couldn’t fit with her hands. She hollowed her cheeks, and the rise and fall of Mathew’s chest quickened. The sound he let out was animalistic, and it sent another wave of arousal through her body. She moaned involuntarily, and the feeling caused Mathew to buck his hips.
“You’re doing so good, baby. ‘M not gonna last with you going at me- shit- like that.”
He brought a large hand down to the side of her face, lightly stroking her cheek. It was a moment of wholesomeness that reminded them what they were now, what he had said.
Mat could tell she was tired, her pace decreasing. The look in her eyes never changed, though. And as he went to speak to tell her it was okay, and she didn’t have to (and because since it had been so long, he was scared he’d bust his load if she wasn’t careful), she pulled off.
A string of saliva followed, and the sight looked like a thumbnail of a shitty porno. Her eyes were droopy and glazed over, and Mat’s hypothesis was proven correct.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. You don’t have to finish. Let me take care of you.” He repeated his sentiment from earlier. She only shook her head, continuing to jack him off with her hand. Oh. He thought. That’s not what I was expecting.
“S’okay, Matty. Wanna make you feel good.”
She ran her thumb over his tip again, her glassy and swollen bottom lip hanging ajar as she concentrated. The moans he was letting slip free could only be described as pathetic, the 190 pound hockey player putty in her hands.
“I’m gonna cum if you don’t, God, baby, shit! I-If you don’t stop.”
And then she pulled her hand off, and he let out a quick breath at the momentary relief, if that was even the right word. But it was short lived, and she managed to hoist herself up, dragging her folds along his cock, before stabilizing herself with hands on his chest. He slid inside of her, and the sounds they both let out echoed off her walls.
She started moving, and then it was “You’re fuckin’ amazing, you know that? So fuckin’ amazing. My girl, my perfect girl.” He rambled, the events of just that day alone scrambling his mind trying to keep up. Similarly to how she felt earlier, everything was just too much for the poor man. She felt like Heaven around him, and he watched in awe from below her as she moved, enamored by the woman he loves.
As she became more and more tired, her movement slowed, reduced to her grinding herself down on his cock. Mat was barely hanging on, trying to make it last as long as possible. He could tell she was close too, as she squeezed him like a vice, and put her energy into picking up her pace.
“Fuck, Matty. Feels s’good. Love you- shit! I love you so much, baby.” She told him, her eyes closed and her face screwed up as she chased her high. But something snapped in Mathew at her confession, and with a quick “fuck” under his breath, he flipped the two of them without ever leaving her.
He was relentless.
He slammed in and out, and at the sudden change in position and pace, she was blindsided. She thrashed around him, her hands everywhere at once. Her hair, his hair, grasping at his shoulders, scratching down his back. She settled for his biceps, as his hands were planted. One on the right side of her head, the other gripping her hip bone so hard, she was sure it’d bruise.
“It’s only ever been you, baby. I promise you.”
“Shit, Mat!” She cried, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. She loosely draped her legs around his middle, allowing him to reach new depths within her. He was fucking her senseless, and they fucking loved it.
“It’ll only ever be you. I love you. Fuck, I love you so much, Y/n.” His hair hung in his eyes as he fought to keep them open. He shook it out of his eyes, wanting to see her as she came in all her glory.
“Love you, Mat. So much, baby. You have no idea.”
His pelvis snapped harder against her, just barely reaching up and grazing her clit in the most exquisite way. The rope in her stomach began to tighten for the third time that night, so close to breaking she could almost taste it.
Actually, she could taste it, she realized. She had been biting down so hard on her bottom lip she could taste the metallic tang on her tongue, and fuck, it was all the more delectable.
“Mat!” It was another exclamation, followed by more babbles. “‘S too much, Matty, can’t do it.” Her voice was small, and despite the nature of the statement, Mat felt his heart flutter.
He shook his head. “Yes, you can, baby. I know you’re tired, but you can do it, Y/n. You’ve got another one in you sweetheart, pull through for me. I’ve got you.”
And never one to disappoint, especially not her Mathew, she did.
She came, and she came hard. But it wasn’t dramatic the way you’d think it’d be, at least not outwardly. Her breathing stopped, her toes curled, and her nails dug into the skin on Barzy’s arms. It wasn’t accompanied by a loud scream, or a drawn out, high pitched moan. It was a breath of relief that left her when she came, her head falling to the side and her eyes closing. A quiet moan of Mat’s name, and she was clamping down on him.
The sweet way his name fell off her tongue, mixed with how she was so damn tight around him as she came, and he was done for. It triggered his own orgasm, and he felt the same feeling of peace wash over him that she had as he spilled into her. He fucked her through it, soft thrusts calming whatever aftershocks they both were experiencing. She had gone limp under him, her eyes opening as she gave him the sweetest smile he’d ever seen.
He stayed in her, lowering himself onto his side, then maneuvering them so she was laying on him. They were a cliché and they knew it, but they couldn’t seem to care. A few moments passed in comfortable silence, before it was broken by Mathew’s scratchy post-sex voice. Swoon.
“So,” he started. She raised a brow, wondering where he was going with this.
“You looooove me, too, then?” He mimicked her tone from earlier, and they broke out in a fit of laughter as she slapped his arm and rolled her eyes.
“Yeah, yeah. I guess you’re alright.” She feigned annoyance, propping herself up on her right arm as she faced the man she loved. Mat scoffed, blowing a strand of hair from his forehead. “Just alright? You’re crazy, lady.”
“But you love me.”
Not a beat passed before “I do.”
She smiled softly, lifting up a hand to run a finger along his jaw. He caught it with his own, never breaking eye contact as he kissed her palm. Again, swoon.
“I know.” She responded, wanting to stay in that moment forever. But, she knew that if she stayed where she was too long, she’d more than likely fall asleep in record time. So, she pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth, which he turned to catch before she could go, pulling her back for a “real” kiss at his protest.
A petulant child, that’s what he is.
She pressed one more to his lips for good measure, before pulling himself off of him. They both let out disgruntled sounds at the sudden losses, and it took all her energy to sit up on the edge of her bed. She felt a strong jaw on her shoulder, and she leaned into it.
“Where you goin’? Leaving me all alone isn’t very nice.” She could hear the frown in his voice, and even though she knew he was joking, it tugged on her heartstrings that little bit.
“Gotta pee.” She said, standing up and walking towards the connecting bathroom. “Sorry baby, no UTIs for me.”
The frown stayed cemented on his face.
“You should be grateful,” she threw over her shoulder, shutting the door. “No UTIs, more fucking, yeah?”
He chuckled at her bluntness, deciding to go and get her some water and maybe a snack. Shit, he didn’t know. What was he supposed to do? Usually when they fucked before, her or Mat would be out the door as soon as possible, still trying to ward off those pesky feelings. But now, he was allowed to feel said pesky feelings, and he’d be damned if he fucked it up.
So, snack. And water? Yeah, water, for sure. He was hungry and thirsty, why wouldn’t she be. He had no idea the way around her kitchen, nor how to, er, actually make anything, so this would be rough. But, first, a pit stop.
He would have walked butt-ass naked into her kitchen, really, but then he remembered Warrior was out there and he didn’t have a need to traumatize that dog any further than he already was.
(It was one time, okay? He didn’t know she had a dog, he’d been asleep on his bed by the TV when they’d gotten to her place. And at the time, Mat was too preoccupied to notice.)
He looked around on the floor for the offending clothing item, slightly grossed out when he did finally find them. It was only for a minute, tops, is what he told himself, as he pulled on the boxers from earlier in the night.
He tiptoed, for literally no apparent reason, through the dark apartment until he found the bag he was looking for. He grabbed what he needed from it, struggling with the zipper while trying to close it, before giving up. On his way back to her room, he gave Warrior a nod and smile, and he swore the mutt gave one back. Okay, actually, on second thought, he remembered the clock on her microwave saying it was 3:18 AM, so, maybe he didn’t.
It was late and he just had the best sex of his life with the woman he loves. Give him a break. So what if he’s delusional and thinks he can communicate with dogs? At least he’s pretty.
When he gets to her room, he pulls on the newer, clean, pair of boxers, setting the other pair he grabbed from his bag on the bed for her when she got out of the bathroom, along with an Islanders shirt that he’d secretly always wanted to see her in. Too soon? Maybe. But after so long yearning for everything domestic and wholesome and good that he was convinced he didn’t deserve with her, he was indulging a little bit. So sue him.
His next stop, snacks. And water, can’t forget the water.
The water was easy enough, he got lucky. He grabbed her “emotional support cup” as she’d called it before when she thought he wasn’t listening, and went over to the fridge. He got a few ice cubes and put them in, and then went over to her Brita. He stood there, pressing down on the little lever, watching the steady stream of water into the cup. It was almost laughable, how he stood there in the dead silence, concentrating so hard. He was determined not to somehow do something wrong, even though it was just pouring a cup of water. Cute.
He checked the pantry once the cup was full, with the lid safely screwed on top. The rustling about caught the attention of Warrior, who hopped down from where he’d been on the couch, moseying on over.
Mat, who still was slightly wary of Warrior, despite the fact the dog would cause him no harm, shook his head at the mutt.
“Sorry, buddy. I don’t have anything for you.”
He turned his head and gave him puppy dog eyes, pulling out all the stops. Mat sighed, looking back to the pantry. He saw a box of Milkbones, and looked back to Warrior, who was egging him on. (They’re telepathically connected, remember?)
He reached in the box, pulling one out, and tossing it down. Warrior gratefully accepted, taking his treat and waltzing off to his bed to chow down. Mat looked in the pantry, going to close the box, when he sees it, his saving grace.
White bread, hallelujah.
He can do toast. Mathew Barzal is a totally capable 25 year old man who can make toast. So, he takes the bag, going over to the toaster. And-
One look at all those fancy buttons, and he’s tapped out.
Okay, it’s okay, he can remember seeing a vending machine on his way into her apartment. Yeah, he remembers her telling him about having to sign off on some HOA form for it, even though she was just renting. Apparently, her landlord hadn’t signed, which made it her job. Whatever, that’s irrelevant.
He figured that there wouldn’t be anybody out in her hallway at 3:23 AM, so he grabbed his coat with his wallet, shrugging it on over his bare back. His slides were somewhere in his hockey bag and the last thing he wanted to do was stink up her whole place by opening that Pandora’s box. So, barefoot it is.
He does his best to sneak out the apartment, leaving the door ajar as he makes the short walk to the vending machine, grateful his search was over. He let out a long sigh as he stood, wondering what to get her.
For himself he decided on a bag of cool ranch Doritos, and a bag of those tiny cookies. For her, he racked every corner of his brain for potential options, before realizing how long he’s taking, and how long he’d been gone. So, not wanting to waste any more time, he elected for one of everything.
He punched in the numbers and paid, attempting to grab them from the machine. Trying to pick up the few that had fallen, he leaned down. His attention was called elsewhere by the ”click!” of a door a few units down. His head snapped to the source of the sound.
“You’ve got to be shitting me.” He muttered under his breath upon what he saw.
A man probably not much older than himself, suitcase and backpack in tow, donned in, you guessed it, a New York Islanders hoodie a lá number 13.
The man had yet to notice the star player down the hall from him, and Mat was considering just making a run for Y/n’s place. But either way, he would have to go past the man, or the man would have to go past Mat to get to the elevator. Maybe he’d take the stairs? He hoped. Shit, who was he kidding, he’s not taking the stairs.
Starting his walk over, the unnamed Islanders fan lifted his head, stopping in his tracks. His jaw dropped, and if it wasn’t purely because of being in the presence of Mat Barzal, he had a hunch what it was.
Said hunch, was that it was due to the fact Mat Barzal was standing in front of him, in an apartment complex definitely not boujee enough for him to be living in, at 3:25 in the morning, naked, except for boxers and some fancy trench coat, holding several bags of snacks.
Mat would’ve laughed at the guys face, but he thought he wasn’t quite in the position to do so.
“Hey, man. How’s it going?” And a stupid bro nod, was all Mathew could manage.
-
While he was facing that debacle, Y/n was having one of her own.
After she’d gone to the bathroom, she decided to try to do her nighttime routine, too. She put on her robe from where it had been hanging in her bathroom, beginning her little routine.
When she emerged 10 minutes later, Mat was nowhere to be seen.
His bags were still by the door, albeit one of them hastily thrown open. Was he leaving and had gotten some clothes and an Uber? Did he have last minute regrets? The door to her place was left open, and an overwhelming sadness began to take over her system. As the tears began to well up, she looked over to Warrior, only to notice him chewing on… a milkbone? How the hell did he get a milkbone?
She sniffled, wiping her sleeve under her nose. She sat down on her couch, looking at where her iced coffee from earlier was still sitting, ¾ of the way empty. The tears started to flow freely again after that, and she stood up, deciding that she should at least shut the door. She didn’t need to deal with a robbery, too.
As she stood and turned, she was met with a very discombobulated and very underdressed Mat trying to shove his way through the door.
“Have a good flight, man. Enjoy Miami!” Mat called over his shoulder to what sounded like her neighbor Gian, based off of the “Thanks bro, good luck this season!” she heard back.
She slapped a hand over her mouth, trying to not bust out laughing at the sight in front of her. Hearing her snickering, he looked up gesturing to the bags in his arms.
“Hungry?” He asked, the smile on his face falling when he saw the red around her eyes. He dropped all the snacks on the couch to his right, making his way over to where she stood.
“Hey, hey, why’re you crying? What’s wrong sweetheart?” He questioned, and his sincerity made her smile widely.
“Nah, I’m all good, don’t worry about it. Just thought you’d left, that’s all…” A pause. “But I see now that you just had a case of munchies, apparently.”
He wrapped his arms around her shoulders pulling her towards his chest. His chin rested on her head, and she closed her eyes, inhaling his scent.
“No, baby. God, no, I’m not leaving. I just wanted to do this whole thing right, and I thought you might be hungry, and I tried to make toast- your toaster is really complex by the way,”
She pulled away from him as he rambled, her smile reaching her eyes.
“And I filled your water and set out clothes for you and I really did try, baby. I didn’t mean to fuck anything up, really.”
She giggled again, taking hold of the shoulders of his jacket, shrugging it off. She folded it over the back of a barstool, then turned back towards Mat.
“And Gian?”
“Oh yeah, he’s cool. Ran into him in the hallway and introduced myself. Going to visit some family in Miami.”
She raised an eyebrow, nodding her head in understanding. She stepped closer, wrapping her arms around his middle.
“So, am I gonna have to compete with him for your attention now whenever you come over?”
He reciprocated the action, one hand coming up to rest on her chin.
“I mean, he’s gonna be gone for two weeks, but after that…” he shrugged, trailing off. She hummed, and he smiled at her, leaning forward. He searched her eyes for any remaining upset, unable to find any, before he pressed his lips to hers. It was sweet and gentle, with not a hint of rush or fervor.
When they pulled apart, she was smiling again. Her hands found their way back to his neck.
“And baby, you’re amazing. You didn’t fuck up anything at all, I promise.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.” She whispered, leaning in again to connect their lips. She let her tongue sweep over his bottom lip, biting down just barely before pulling away. She pushed down the sleeves of her robe just a bit, exposing her shoulders. Y/n took his hand, and started walking backwards, letting it slowly slip out of hers as she did.
“Come on, hotshot. Come to bed. Snacks will still be there in the morning.”
She smiled again briefly, before walking towards her room, the robe slipping down as she went. Mat stood watching her in total awe, glued in place, until he was knocked out of his trance.
“Hurry up! And lock the door, too, please!”
He had never obliged to anything quicker in his life.
(And as for the snacks, they were not still there in the morning, thanks to a certain mutt who managed to rip open all the packets on the couch. The next morning was spent at the vet, who had told them Warrior would be fine, just fat. The vet had only said this, though, after Mat had consoled a crying Y/n, who was under the impression he was going to be poisoned.
The rest of the day after that? Making up for lost time.)
FIN.
YO idk if that was good or not i kind of feel like i imagined writing the entire thing and it was a fever dream. but. anyway! if you liked it, be sure to reblog <3 thank u i love u! go eat some protein and drink some water.
xx, hj
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Bond of the Beasts Chapter 4
The sun outside was a welcome change of pace after the rainy night they had before. Cookie patiently waited for Hattie and Bow to arrive downstairs. She had sent the two girls to the bathroom to clean up before they'd leave to head into town to go clothes shopping. Her attention got drawn away from the squirrel in a nearby tree that she had been watching out of the window, and focused on the DJ, whose car was turning into the driveway. The basilisk looked slightly worn out, yet he seemed to be in a decent mood as she could hear him hum a tune to himself through the slightly open window. The DJ opened the door and almost got it slammed back in his face as Bow- and Hat Kid came running down the stairs, both looking happy and upbeat. “What's going on here?” The question made both kids stopped dead in their tracks and turned back to him.
“Were going clothes shopping!” Bow Kid squealed while bouncing up and down. Hattie looked confused, not recognizing the man. The young sorceress turned to Bow to ask who the stranger was, but she was beat to the punch as the dark skinned man himself answered her question.
“I don't think we got introduced yet, my name is DJ Grooves.” He struck a flashy pose and looked at Hattie who seemed to find the pose funny.
“My name is Hattie, I'm a sorceress...well, I'm training to be a proper one.” Hattie found the man quite approachable, she wondered if he just pretended to be nice for a moment, but that thought left her mind quickly as she noticed that Bow wasn't afraid of him, her colors were still yellow, not a hint of the dreaded purple of fear and anxiety.
“Well, I'm sure that you'll be able to become a powerful one if you put your mind to it.” He gave a wink before looking at Cookie who got dragged into the hallway by an impatient Bow Kid. “I heard your going clothes shopping with the girls.” He crossed his arms.
Cookie took it as him reminding her that it was still dangerous outside, that they had to wait a few days for the uproar that Hattie's magic surge caused to die down. “I know that it's still dangerous outside, that it would likely be better to wait a bit for all of this to die down a bit, but...look at them. The clothes are getting to small for them, it must be getting uncomfortable.” She pointed at the two sisters who looked down on themselves.
The DJ made a dismissive gesture. “That's not what I meant, darling. You're going clothes shopping with the kids...and didn't invite ME!” He feigned to be hurt by his exclusion.
Cookie fumbled with the small pendant of her necklace, it looked like a leaping cat, which seemed to catch the interest of Bow Kid. “I thought you'd be tired after a long night of work and wanted to rest, so I figured it would be the easiest to go out with them alone.” Bow looked like she tried hard to contain her excitement and struggle to not just run outside which caused the DJ to turn back around and walk onto the small pathway and dirt road by the house.
Cookie always preferred to create the house for them just outside the outskirts of a town, it made it easier to stay hidden, the fewer interactions they had with humans, the better...It was a secluded and lonely life, but it was better than being on the radar of monster hunters and researchers.
“Come on, then, sleep can wait. We need to make sure these two get proper clothes and get out of those...washed out dirt rags.” He unlocked his red car, it seemed to be an expensive, but functional SUV. It had a lot of space, enough to fit even four people on the backseats comfortably.
The two girls rushed by him and couldn't wait to get inside. Bow Kid hesitated for a moment. “We're...gonna sit...on the backseats, right?” She asked with uncertainty. The DJ was about to ask the little changeling where else she would sit...and decided that it would be best not to ask, the answer would likely be unpleasant for the both of them, so instead he just nodded.
“Hold on a moment, Bow, I got something for you.” Cookie gave Bow Kid a small glass of strange looking purple liquid. When the girl looked up at her with a questioning glance, Cookie elaborated. “This is just a small potion to keep you from changing colors, I know you struggle to control it, sweetie, so I thought it prudent to make this for you. It smells a lot worse than it tastes, trust me.” Bow Kid put her tongue out in disgust at the smell, but had to agree that it was smart to make sure that her colors wouldn't change in public. “It will also prevent your little horns and tail from manifesting” She still looked at Cookie as if to figure out whether or not the red-haired witch was really telling the truth, but considering that she had kept her word so far, Bow decided to put her faith in her and drink the strange concoction. Oddly enough, it tasted like minty toothpaste, not THAT terrible. “It will wear off after around 10 hours, plenty of time to go shopping.” Bow looked down and found that her skin had changed back to her normal brown tone, it appeared that the potion was already in effect.
They entered the car after that, Hattie was already inside playing with the window, making it go up and down over and over again. “Put your seat belt on, Hattie, we can actually be safe while riding in a car this time.” Bow Kid put her seat belt on and happily looked out the window while Hattie rolled her eyes and did the same.
Cookie gave a concerned look to Grooves who sat down in the driver seat with a joyful smile. “Are you sure that you'll be alright?” He made a dismissive gesture.
“You worry to much, darling, I'm fine.” He took one glance back at the two excited kids before they left to go into town. The ride there was fairly quiet as both girls just watched the scenery go by, completely enticed by what they saw. While the atmosphere on the backseats was jolly and upbeat, the same couldn't be said about the front, the two adults wore rather sad expressions as the car ride went on. In a way it was nice to see the two so happy...on the other hand, it was sad to see two kids so happy over something as mundane as the landscape outside, something most don't really pay attention to, it only showed just how little the people that looked after them before cared about them.
DJ Grooves stopped the car on the parking lot of the big shopping mall, which thankfully was quite empty due to it being around noon on a workday. Hattie and Bow looked up at the huge building that had a bright neon sign in the front that welcomed customers on the right side while people exited the building form the left door. “Wow...this building looks awesome!” Hattie couldn't wait and headed inside and was shortly followed by her sister who did the same. “I don't even know where we should go to first.”
It appeared that Bow had already decided where they'd go as she made her way to a store that had a wide array of summer clothes in window, the others followed her. “Can we pick out whatever we want?” Bow Kid turned around to ask that question and Cookie was about to tell her that they had a limited budget, but was interrupted by the booming voice of the DJ.
“Of course, darling, pick out what you think suits you best.” This resulted in the changeling practically running from section to section, picking out various accessoires and clothes. Hattie, meanwhile, seemed to take her time in picking out something she liked...at least when it came to headgear, she had already picked out a yellow cloak, a purple tunic and white pants, and a pair of simple brown boots. She seemed to be unable to choose between a purple top hat and one that was rather reminiscent of a witch's hat, which she ultimately chose.
“Do I look like a proper sorceress now?” Hattie asked Cookie who looked around nervously for a moment to make sure no one overheard the conversation. A woman with heterochromic eyes looked over at them from an aisle away, she picked out a black jacket and side eyed the two.
“Yeah, you look great, sweetie, it will be a great costume for Halloween.” She whispered a bit closer to Hattie, using adjusting her hat as an alibi to lower onto her level, so the woman wouldn't hear them. “You can't say that you're a sorceress in public, Hattie, and you can't using magic either, sweetie. I know it's hard, but we'll be in danger otherwise.”
The young girl looked shocked for a moment, having not quite realized her blunder at the time, but she understood why. If the people here knew what she was, it could be that they'll contact the people that held Bow and her in captivity for so long. “I'm sorry. I'll be more careful.” While Hat Kid and Cookie were busy talking, the DJ was waiting for Bow to finish changing in the fitting room.
Bow pulled the curtains aside, twirled and struck a pose. “Ta-da!” Bow had picked out a green coat with a white shirt underneath, a blue skirt with a matching blue bow and black boots to round it off.
“Stunning, darling, simply stunning!” DJ Grooves applauded while Cookie and Hattie walked over to them.
Hattie looked impressed with what Bow had picked out and was even a bit jealous, but she liked what she picked out still, it was comfy and easy to wear. “Looks great!” She complimented Bow who beamed at her, which made the blue-eyed girl smile in return. She couldn't even remember the last time she had seen Bow smile like that...if she had ever even seen her smile so brightly. Hattie turned around to look at Cookie and DJ Grooves who just gave them happy expressions, they appeared almost relieved.
“Where do we go to now?” Bow asked, still smiling and grabbing Hattie's hand squeezing it.
The two adults thought it over for a moment until the DJ had an idea. “How about we find some decorations for your rooms? YOU may look flashy and stunning now, but your rooms are still plain and simple-” He turned his head to Cookie with a slightly apologetic expression. “-No offense, Cookie.”
“None taken, I simply didn't know what they liked best...and using too much magic in a day is pretty draining, so I didn't furnish the rooms more.” Cookie explained while they left the clothing store and headed over to “Schöner Wohnen” a furnishing store at the end of the mall.
As they entered the sizable store, both kids looked around as if they had entered a wonderland of décor, ranging from tacky plastic animal figurines to classic pots and vases, all the way to the latest trends in interior design. The two adults split up, each supervising one kid, as the two sisters split up and headed into different sections of the store.
Hattie was immediately drawn to the various plushies on display, showing interest in a shark plushie that she eyed with curiosity. She picked it up by the fin on its back and hugged it. “I'm gonna call you Dale.” Cookie watched as the girl picked out another plushie, a dolphin one. “Can I get this one for Bow?” Hattie asked Cookie who gave her a nod.
“Of course, sweetie.” She'd need to safe up some money again after this, but the near euphoric expressions on her new young family members made it all the more worth it.
“I'm gonna call this one David!” She carried the two soft animals with pride and joined up with Bow. Her sister seemed to have picked up a small lava lamp, a colorful vase, and a small sewing kit. “Nice things, Bow...-” She eyed the sewing kit. “Are you gonna knit a new scarf with that.” She giggled a bit.
“No, silly, I picked it out for you. I thought that maybe you could learn how to make those dolls. I know you like them.” Bow held the kit out for Hattie who now felt a bit bad for having picked out a, in her opinion, inferior gift. Nevertheless, the young sorceress accepted the gift and hugged her sister.
“Thanks, Bow, I have a gift for you too, but...it's only a funny plushie I found.” The blue-eyed girl gave the changeling the plushie, not expecting the other to cry in happiness upon receiving it. Hat Kid took Bow Kid's hand and smiled, giving her another hug. The two adults gave the girls a moment to gather themselves before they approached.
Cookie spoke in a soft tone and bent down to their level, considering the small stature of the woman, she didn't have to bent down all that much. “Are you two ready to go?” Both nodded and the four headed to check out. As they exited the store, and were about to head home, the basilisk had an idea.
“How about some ice cream before we leave?” That caught the attention of the young changeling and sorceress immediately, and caused both to spin around to face him with sparkling eyes, and wide smiles.
“Ice cream!” Both yelled enthusiastically, while Cookie shook her head at him, but smiled.
“Are you trying to become their favorite guardian? You'll spoil them rotten.” She whispered in an amused tone which caused the DJ to chuckle.
“Maybe I am. The two darlings deserve a nice break from the harshness of our situation, there is nothing wrong with a day of fun and leisure is there?-” He gave a wink that the witch couldn't see because of his toned shades that made it impossible to see his eyes. “-Besides, I was trying to cheer them up after the scare that Conductor gave poor Bow, that old wereowl can be so brash and mean sometimes.” He shook his head.
Cookie responded with a small laugh. “You're only two years younger than him, you know. I don't think he was trying to be mean, he got startled by Bow's sudden attack and...you know how hot-headed he is. You didn't see it, but he felt bad about what he did.” It eased the small amount of contempt the DJ Grooves felt for the small man, which was evident as he relaxed his posture. They had to cut their little conversation short, due to the sisters rushing by them as they bolted to the ice cream parlor.
Bow Kid looked exceedingly happy with her simple ice cream cone consisting of one scoop of vanilla and one of chocolate, Hat Kid looked equally as ecstatic with her more...exotic blend, one scoop of mint and one of hazelnut made up her cone. “Thank you! We never had ice cream before, this day was so awesome!” Hattie skipped ahead happily and turned her head to thank Cookie and the DJ as they slowly returned to the parking lot.
“Yeah, this was the best day I've ever had!” Bow exclaimed while she and Hattie climbed back into the backseats of the car. Cookie helped the DJ place the procured items into the trunk of the car, both feeling like they did something good today.
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|Sparrow Catching| Part I
“What if I want more than this here malt?” a gruff voice asked from the other side of the bar.
Working nights at Pete’s Saloon was not for the faint hearted. I had seen many a brawl, treachery, sin, lust and downright bad luck within these walls. If Pete wasn’t my Uncle and if I had other family, maybe I would have been brought up proper like. Instead I was a barmaid which some simpleminded fools thought doubled as a whore. Whenever my Uncle wasn’t around, men liked to pretend I was not his niece on the chance I would entertain such proposals.
“Then I suggest Hattie’s Room & Board down the road. She might have the so called more you are lookin’ for,” I huffed.
“Nawl I see the more I want,” he said, causing me to whip around.
I was met with a haggard dust covered face, a crooked toothless smile and clothes that had seen better days. He also had about twenty years to my lone twenty.
“I ain’t in that business so I don’t care what you think you see,” I snapped. I knew how to hold my own against men like him. My fingers were already brushing against the rifle we kept for situations like this.
“I WON’T TAKE NO SASS FRO-
Before he could finish his sentence he was being yanked out of his seat. I reached for the rifle in the commotion, readying it to fire if need be. It took a few moments for the dust to settle but when it did I saw the old barfly being held down by two very familiar henchmen. If Howdy and Small Dove were here then...my eyes traveled until they landed on the man who had his boot in the center of the barfly’s chest. Pointed at the nasty old man were the signature pistols usually kept holstered unless in use.
Dex ‘Two Pistols’ Tate was a train robbing, dark brown liquor drinking, gun toting fool who I happened to be madly in love with. Our connection made as much sense as pigs flying. Growing up side by side like we did in this saloon we learned as much about each other and the real world. However while he got to gallivant around the west I stayed put with limited options as a Black woman with my coloring. Uncle Pete said my honey skin and long hair that had to be braided and pinned up at all times was more trouble than he ever cared to have. So I was forced to dress and appear rougher than I wanted to be. The only person who got to see me for true was the man who constantly left me behind. His Brandy colored eyes drank me in, sweeping from the bottom of my skirts to the top of my blouse.
“Plan on shootin’ me Suga?” he drawled, chewing on his cigar in the cavalier demeanor reserved for my attitude.
“I’d be plenty warranted but no I’m too pretty for the chain gang,” I replied as I dropped the rifle and put the safety back on.
He grinned. “That you is.”
I rolled my eyes as Howdy and Small Dove snickered behind him. “Just finish taking out the trash.”
With that I gave the whole situation my back as the trio of bandits worked together to get the barfly off the premises for the night. I was placing the rifle back when Uncle Pete slinked from around the corner and walked up to the bar.
“Gon’ head and call it a night Niece,” Uncle Pete said.
“We still have three more hours till closing,” I said, using a rag to wipe down the bar.
“And if you stay all you will do is ignore my paying customers to dote on that big ear boy. Might as well go back on home, your cousin will take over,” Uncle Pete said, pointing to Psalm, one of his six sons who helped run the place.
“No I won’t,” I said, throwing the rag down and placing my hands on my hips.
“A lie don’t care who tell it. Anna Lee, you see your daughter down here acting a fool?” Uncle Pete said, while looking upwards.
At the reference of my mama, I pursed my lips. He knew I did not like it when he invoked her name to prove a point. Instead of arguing with him about it, I walked around him and let myself out from behind the bar right as Psalm was coming in.
“Your man outside, ready to walk you back to the house. Junior is threatening to shoot off his toes one by one if he does anything ungentleman-like,” Psalm said with a boisterous laugh.
Being the baby and only girl of the family meant putting up with brute antics that were meant to defend my honor. I made my way through the saloon and out past Pat who was guarding the door to the wrap around porch. Leaning outside by a post, Dex stood unbothered as Junior presumably taunted him with threats. Both of his hands rested on his pistols but I knew neither man would take such extremes with each other.
“Alright now Junior, I think you done got your point across,” I said as I approached.
Junior flashed me what was supposed to be an innocent smile. “We were just catching up.”
“Is that so?” I asked, arching a brow at Dex who smirked. He never lied to me for any reason so it wasn’t a surprise when he admitted the truth.
“Nah, Junior was threatening to kill me again but don’t be upset. We all know who the quicker draw is,” Dex said with a tip of his hat. “Now c’mon, I promised to get you home safe and sound.”
Junior huffed but as he retreated knowing as well he was not truly up to the task of a gun battle with the infamous Dex. Holding out his arm, I linked mine through it as we walked through the otherwise quiet town. The saloon and Hattie’s place were the only businesses still open at this time of night. Folks of upstanding society would not dare to be caught on the streets this late. The quietness gave us a sense of privacy as we strolled along saying nothing at first. I was enjoying his company without thinking of all the danger he put himself in the last few months. In my room was every newspaper article I could find that mentioned his latest endeavors. Everyone came with a reward higher than the last for his capture. Only reason he was safe here was because of the code established since this was his hometown. His hefty donations to the church and local charities also helped maintain the loyalty.
“Honey Bee, I have seen many marvels, worldly and of God but none compare to you,” he said, after some time.
We were on the outskirts of town now, heading down the main road that branched off into various lands. Our house, one of the biggest, was further out. I was never allowed to make this walk alone or to be alone in the bar really. Always surrounded by my cousins or uncles or Dex and his friends. Some of the church hens liked to call me names because of the lengths they went to protect me. Outside of Dex and my family, friends were hard to come by which is why I felt his absences so profoundly. Even more so when he said things like that.
I blushed, thankful for the cover of night as I said, “I find that mighty hard to believe but I thank you all the same.”
“I’m being as honest as I only am when it comes to you,” he said which was true. His life was made up of half-truths needed to protect him.
“So let me return the favor. Your little crusades are starting to worry me more and more. The Northern Star says the Pinkertons are offering two thousand dollars for you dead or alive,” I said.
He waved his free hand while sucking his teeth. “The Pinkertons have trouble finding their own asses, let alone me.”
“That’s not the point and you know it. When will it be enough?” I asked, stopping our stride to look up into his eyes.
“You know when,” he said with a small sad smile, cupping my face. His hands were warm and calloused like I remembered them to be. Brushing the pads of his thumb on the underside of my jaw he stepped closer, seemingly looking at me and elsewhere at the same time.
He had been looking for his mother ever since she left him here almost fifteen years ago. Like him, she was infamous for courting danger and was off committing as many capers as her son. She taught him the world was not made for him so he took without regard having been bred to believe he was constantly owed.
“If you never do, are you willing to let life pass you by in a hail of bullets until one of them inevitably hits their target?” I asked.
“I was hoping to let life pass me by at your side,” he said.
“How? You would have to be here for that,” I sighed, turning to look away only to have him guide my face back towards his.
“Plan to be. My soul won’t be settled until I find her but my heart is plenty settled with you. Living fast is fun, I would be lying to say it was not. It no longer fulfills me though. I do what I do to get her attention more than anything. However, it’s starting to feel like she don’t want to be found and while I don’t think I’m giving up…I think I can spread out my searching endeavors,” he said.
“What if we have children? You will not leave me widowed with a family, Dexter Tate,” I said.
“You want children with me now? Last time I brought up that possibility you threatened to shoot me,” he said with a teasing grin.
Rolling my eyes I muttered, “I still might.”
Leaning in, he pressed a kiss to the corner of my mouth and another on to my cheek. “I won’t leave you a widow. After this last run you gon’ wish you could get rid of me,” he whispered against my skin.
“Tell me anything Dex,” I said, stepping out of his embrace and nudging us forward.
He let his hand fall back to his side as he exhaled roughly. “I ain’t never told you no lie. I’m serious. This last run and I will be ready to set aside my life of crime. Just not my mission to find my mother. Maybe one day I will but I can’t let that one go quite yet,” he rasped.
I squeezed his arm to let him know that I had heard him but hadn’t the words to address his declaration. Dex had not known an honest day’s work in a long time. I would truly have to see it to believe it.
“I have missed you terribly, you know?” I said, switching gears. I did not want to waste what precious time we had together by bickering. Dex did not like to stay in town long, a day or two max before he was off riding into the sunset.
“Not as much as I have missed you Honey Bee. That I know,” he said.
We fell into a comfortable silence as we walked along, stopping every few paces to enjoy the stars and each other. There never did have to be much conversation for us to enjoy one another's company. Before I knew it, the house was only a few paces from view.
“Meet me upstairs?” I asked to which he grinned.
Stealing a kiss from my lips, he headed towards the back of the house. “You bet.”
I laughed at his excitement as I made my way up the porch. Gathering myself together, I took a moment to wipe away any lingering giddiness from my facial expression. Once I was ready, I pushed the door open and stepped into the parlor. I was not surprised to see Auntie Dot and my cousin in-law Carol doing needle work in the sitting room towards my left. They never went to sleep until their husbands returned home.
“Evening ladies,” I greeted, slipping off my gloves.
“Early one for you. What you doing at home before the witching hour?” Auntie Dot asked.
“Uncle says I can’t focus when Dex is around so I have been banished to my room,” I said.
“Mmh,” Carol said, knowing full well it wasn’t that much of a punishment for me. We were mates though so my secret was safe with her. “All for the better. Don’t need to be around that no count anyway.”
“Well go on up to bed. Since you in early, you can rise early to make breakfast,” Auntie Dot said, with a wave of her hand.
“Yes Ma’am. Good night,” I said as I walked past the sitting room to reach the stairs.
My room was technically the attic. It had been converted to a more livable space with two open south face windows, a four post bed, a small table and chair, and a decent sized armoire for my clothes took up most of the space. By the time I got there, Dex was shirtless and in the midst of slipping out of his boots. He had the windows open in order to let in the cool night air. On the small table was his coat, shirt and his holster sitting on top of the pile. I walked up to him and turned, pointing to the button at the nape of my neck.
“Help please,” I said softly.
Instantly, his nimble fingers worked to free me from the shirt that kept me more than modest during work hours. At times the high collar shirt was stifling but it was better than leaving perception up to chance. Once undone, I held up my arms for him to slide it off of me. His fingers trailed down the corset that society demanded I wear although I hated it. Knowing so, he undid the laces as quickly as he had done with the buttons. When that was finished, he pushed down my skirts leaving me in a thin day gown. His hands went to my sides, gently massaging at my tender ribs. Closing my eyes, I leaned against his solid frame as he held me closer. He placed a few kisses along my shoulders and neck, each sweeter than the last.
“C’mon stand proper, so I can take down your hair,” he said gently, patting my hip.
I obliged as his hands went to the bun at my neck. He pulled out several pins before he was able to uncoil the two braids that fell to the middle of my back. Taking his time, he unbraided my hair making sure to massage at my scalp for a bit when reaching the roots. A kiss to the crown of my head signaled that he was finished. Easing out of his hold, I grabbed his hand and led him over to my dresser. On top was a fresh bowl of water and a few washrags I had left out earlier. His hand reached for a cloth first, dipping it in the water before running the cool rag against my brow, down my nose and across my cheeks. Dipping it again, he wiped down the column of my neck and my collarbone.
“You are so gentle with me Dex,” I said partly in awe, looking up at him. The same man that the papers deemed as hell on wheels and a detriment to society was doting on me. His touch nurturing and soothing as he got me ready for bed.
“Because you deserve it. I see you have more cuts on your hands and by the way that you putting more weight on your left leg more than your right lets me know they been working you too hard,” he said with a small frown. “You need to be cared for, not treated like a mule.”
Grabbing a fresh cloth, I dipped my hand into the water and made sure it was saturated before starting at his forehead. “Have to earn my keep like everyone else,” I said, repeating the words that were often given to me alongside whatever grueling task was bestowed upon me in the moment.
“Not in our house,” he said, causing me to still for a moment. We had talked about the home we would share together since we were kids. As orphans, we dreamed of having a place of our own without any strings attached. Now that we were older, sometimes that dream seemed further away and other times it was so close I could reach out and grab it with both hands.
“No, our house will be filled with joy. For both of us,” I said, as I trailed the rag along his broad shoulders before dipping it again. I wiped along his chest that was riddled with small scars from various knife fights. The one on his stomach stretched diagonally but healed smoothly. Between him and I both, there were enough scars to last a lifetime.
“And those littluns you spoke of earlier,” he added.
Nodding my head, I pushed up on my toes to place a gentle kiss flush against his. He wrapped his arm around my waist pulling me in closer. Within seconds he had me hoisted in his arms, slipping the rag from my hand and tossing haphazardly on the dresser as he moved us towards the bed. Depositing me gently, he dropped to his knees to free me from my boots. Once free, he sank onto his haunches as he picked up a foot to massage. A groan of appreciation slipped past my lips.
“They hurt bad?” he asked, using the pads of his fingers to work out my aches. He was so methodical in the way he turned my foot slightly to make sure he got every angle that needed his touch.
“No, mighty sore but I’ll manage,” I replied. “When do you ride out?”
“Soon as the first ray of sunlight shines across your pretty face,” he smiled, working his way to the other foot.
“Don’t stay away long this time. My heart can’t take these short visits,” I sighed.
Here he was being all sweet on me and it was only for a few hours. By the time I woke up again I would go back to being treated low. With Dex, I was treated like a princess and had no worries. Easing up until we were eye level he said, “Mine either. I love you so much Honey Bee.”
“I love you too,” I said, as I brought my lips to meet his.
There was no way he could promise his return. Not with the life he currently led. Even if this was his lash hoorah, who was to say the law or anyone out there trying to make a name for themselves wouldn’t get to him first. No, all we had were these stolen moments that had to be enough because neither of us was letting go. We learned long ago that try all we might, the only eyes we had were for each other. His tongue swiped against mine as his fingers pushed up my thighs. I widened for him, letting him touch the place that most men wished they could explore. Tossing my head back, a moan slipped past my lips which he eagerly swallowed before saying, “You have to be quiet lest you want someone to find us.”
“Sorry,” I whispered.
“Nawl darlin’, don’t be sorry,” he said, kissing the inside of my thigh. “Be careful.”
Reaching over, I grabbed my robe and bit down on it as he used his lips to make me forget about everything and when I say everything I do mean everything. My eyes rolled back as he worked to make all of my troubles melt away. Nothing mattered but his mouth on me and his fingers inside of me. He moved at a tantalizingly slow pace, seemingly unhurried to get me to the place he knew I soon would be begging to be. Sliding my legs over his broad shoulders, he then grabbed my hips to pull me flush against him. Suckling, he made stars come to my eyes with the sensation and I felt my toes curl in response. I felt everything really, the cool breeze from the window, the way his left hand held me steady while the right plunged in search of the right spot. He knew he found it when my hips bucked against his face and it was then I knew I was in a world of trouble. I barely had time to close my eyes when the waves of euphoria hit me like a summer storm. Thunder filled my ears as my body shook in his arms.
“That’s right Honey, you’re doing so good,” he murmured, still using his fingers to pump in and out of me.
When it was coming to an end he used his tongue to gently lap up the mess that he made before kissing his way back up my body. Chuckling he removed the robe from my mouth to give me a kiss. I latched onto his shoulders, pulling him down until his large frame laid against mine. My legs locked him in as I kissed softly along his jaw.
“Honey…I need you to ease up now…I’m tryna’ stay a gentleman,” he rasped, in between kisses.
“That was not gentlemanly and you did not see me complaining,” I said, causing him to chuckle.
“No, that was me taking care of my woman the best way I can until we make things proper,” he said, easing up so that he could look me in the eyes.
He was steadfast about us not going further until he could marry me like I deserved. Claiming that he did not want to give the women in town any extra reasons to treat me badly if we slipped up and got in the family way. Not wanting to get lost in the planning of our future or wrapped up in promises, I pulled him back to me. “And you do but I will leave it alone...for now.”
“Thank you love,” he said, placing a kiss on my forehead. “Tell me about all the things I been missing out on.”
Never the one to be able to deny his requests I began catching him up on the local drama one story at a time. Before I knew it my sentences gave way to yawns and my yawns gave way to slumber. The next time my eyes fluttered open I was alone with all traces of Dex gone. Well almost gone, on the pillow that he lied on was a note. Written in his scrawly handwriting was the following: If I make it to 25, you will be MY wife- YOUR Beau, Dexter
His birthday was in two weeks.
A smile spread over my kiss swollen lips. As I went to put the note down I noticed something catching in the light. On my left hand was a tear-shaped ruby surrounded by a cluster of diamonds set in a gold band. Never in my life had I seen a piece of jewelry so fine. In fact it was too fine for these parts so I would have to take it off eventually but I squealed as I looked over it. Moving my hand up and down, the ring stayed firmly in place, glittering effortlessly in the rays from the morning sun. He had gotten the perfect size.
“That damn scoundrel. How I love him so.”
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