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#mat barzal x y/n
theemporium · 2 months
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please im begging... thigh riding mat barzal smut.... please
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
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“Shit, baby, I gotta leave soon.”
“No, you don’t,” you mumbled defiantly, your fingers curled in his hair to tug his head back as your lips trace over his pulse point. “You have ages.” 
“I still need to get ready,” Mat murmured, but it was half-hearted at best. His hands were gripping your hips, his body sinking back into the couch as you continued to kiss along his neck. “The boys are gonna give me shit if I’m late again—”
“Tragic,” you retorted, though he could feel your smile pressed against him. 
“Baby,” Mat groaned before he ducked his head down, until his lips found yours again. “You’re a menace.” 
You pulled back, your hands dropping to rest on his chest. “Sorry for wanting to spend some time with my boyfriend after he’s been away for a week,” you grumbled but the smile remained on your face. “I think I need to have a word with the coaching team. It’s not fair that you have morning skate when you just came back from a roadie.” 
Mat raised his brows, amused. “Not fair for who?”
“For your lonely and neglected girlfriend,” you retorted.
Mat snorted. “My poor girl.” 
Your eyes narrowed. “Don’t mock me.”
“Never,” he grinned before he leaned back up to kiss you again. “Need some lovin’?”
“Don’t say it like that,” you muttered but you leaned into the kiss, your nails lightly scratching his chest over the material of his shirt. “Makes me sound needy.” 
“You are needy,” Mat countered, lightly pinching your hip. “And I love it.” 
“Then do something about it,” you retorted, hips rolling down to feel the bulge in his sweatpants. “Mat, baby, please…” 
Mat groaned, gripping your hips to stay still despite every cell in his body wanting to do the opposite. “Baby, I can’t.” 
You huffed, your hands on his chest as you moved to climb off his lap. 
“Hey, hey,” Mat murmured as he pulled you back down, your chests pressed together. “I said I can’t. I didn’t say you couldn’t.”
Your brows furrowed in confusion. “Mat, that doesn’t make any sense—”
“Gonna make you feel good, baby,” he murmured, lifting you up enough so you were shifted off his lap and left straddling one of his legs instead. 
Your cheeks warmed at his insinuation. “Mat—”
“C’mon, I gotta leave soon,” Mat muttered against your lips as his hands squeezed your hips. “Want my pretty girl to ride my thigh before I go.”
Your brain short circuited for a small moment. 
“S’hot, babe,” Mat continued like his suggestion hadn’t completely melted your insides and washed away any coherent thoughts with it. “Pretty sure I remember you said you wanted to try it back at All-Stars—”
“I was drunk,” you defended, but your body flushed at the reminder. “And it wasn’t my fault you had your thighs out like a slut.”
He grinned. “They are all yours, baby, use them as you please.”
Your breath hitched a little. “I don’t know…”
“Shhh, just relax f’me,” Mat whispered, leaning up to kiss you again. 
You sunk into his embrace, letting the whirling thoughts in your mind come to a halting stop as his tongue swiped along your lower lip before deepening the kiss. His hands gave your hips another squeeze before he started guiding, slowly rocking you back and forth until your body was moving on it’s own accord.
“Just like that, baby,” he praised, his forehead pressed against yours as your soft pants brushed along his lips. “That’s my pretty girl. Looking so fucking good riding my thigh like that. You look so gorgeous when you use me, baby.”
Your face flushed, a pathetic whine leaving your lips. “Mat—”
“C’mon, baby,” Mat cooed, his thumbs dipping under the hem of your shirt to swipe along your heated skin. “Give me something to think about during practice.”
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gisellaswrld · 5 months
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overwhelming how much i am grateful; you are her own.
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mb13 | mat requests that you and your daughter attend the home game for your daughters 4th birthday. somehow, mat conjures up the best birthday present for your daughter.
If you asked Amelia what she wanted for her birthday, it was to watch Mat play hockey. Not toys or books, she wanted to watch Mat play hockey. Amelia had watched him play on TV and always requested to go see him play in person.
The only thing keeping her from watching in person was you.
You and Mat had been dating for around a year by this point. A year filled with laughter and love. You appreciated the true feelings that were built in the relationship. The only thing that had not happened was you and Mat going public. Of course, it wasn’t that big of a deal. On social media, Mat was popular with the ladies. The thought of getting hateful messages from the media was lingering in your head.
But frankly, how could you say no to your daughter’s only birthday request?
You had met some of Mat’s friends before, along with their wives. In general, they were so kind to you. When some of the wags found out you were attending a game, they were ecstatic. They had invited you to join them to the pregame get together. Of course, you accepted.
“Are you gonna cheer me on, Milly?” Mat asked, grabbing his jacket from where it was hanging. 
Amelia had a bright smile on her face, digging her fork into the cake you had made. “Yes!” She replied, food falling out of her mouth.
“Don’t talk with food in your mouth,” You reminded, leaning against the lip of the counter.
“It’s my birthday, don't get mad at me.” Amelia shook her finger at you, sassiness filling her tone.
Mat disappeared back into his bedroom, coming back with a box in his hands. You furrowed your brows, curious what was in the box. Amelia had already opened all her presents from you and Mat. So this last box raised some confusion in your brain.
“What’s this?” Amelia asked, pushing the plate forward towards you.
“Open it,” Mat stated, his eyes flickering between you and Amelia.
Amelia ripped open the box, staring at the blue and orange jersey in the box. Amelia pulled the item of clothing out. It was an Islanders jersey, on the back Barzal was etched into the fabric.
“It’s just like yours!” Amelia looked up to Mat with bright eyes. “Mommy, look! It’s just like dads!” 
“It is!” You watched as your daughter excitedly laid the jersey out on the table.
Amelia looked so happy while staring at the jersey. You noticed it immediately. It was such a hearty feeling to see Amelia joyous over a hockey jersey.
“Thank you! ThankyouThankyouThankyou!” Amelia looked at Mat, holding her arms out to him. 
Mat catched the hint, pulling the small girl out of the chair. Amelia tightly wrapped her arms around his neck, giddy of delight. Mat held the girl in his arms, placing a kiss to her head.
“You’re welcome,” Mat replied, putting her down on the ground. “I’ve got to go, you are meeting up with the other girls, right?” Mat asked, walking over to you.
“Yes, I am. Good luck, alright?” You smiled.
“I will-”
“Matty, you better play good! If you don’t, you won’t play with dolls with me for a week!” Amelia sternly told him, a serious look on her face.
“I will, Milly. Don’t you worry.” Mat replied, turning his attention back to you.
He placed a quick kiss on your lips before rushing out the door. Amelia had the jersey clutched in her hands, starting to dance around the kitchen of Mat’s house. You were watching her as you cleaned up her mess of cake. Amelia was continuously chanting, “I’m gonna be just like dad.” while parading around the room.
You quickly learned of her new name for Mat, still not necessarily knowing when it started. You just woke up one morning and heard Amelia call Mat ‘dad’. You were shocked, to say the least. More than shocked, you were thankful. It made you think of all the things that Mat had done to help you and Amelia.
It made you feel loved, finally learning what it was like to be treated well by a man. A lot of your previous insecurities fleeted away after Amelia called Mat dad. The insecurities being replaced by love and safety.
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The other girls were piled into two cars, Amelia (unsafely) sitting on your lap. Emma, Anthony’s wife, was seated next to you. Emma was the WAG you were exceptionally close to. This was due to the fact that Anthony and Mat were close as well. You met Emma before any of the other wives and girlfriends. 
Emma was sweet and babysat Amelia a handful of times.
“We should get there when warm ups are starting, so we will go down to the boards first.” Emma informed the group of girls.
“I swear if they lose today, I will lose my mind. I’m tired of Adam coming home in a crappy mood.” Jen complained, physically face palming.
“Mat’s team better not lose.” Amelia grumbled, looking up at the girls. “Not on my birthday.”
The girls laughed. “I’m sure they will play better just for you, princess.” Jen smiled, patting Amelia’s head.
Once parked and inside, the arena was filled with fans. The Islanders were playing the Capitals tonight, Mat was sure they’d win. Jen led the girls to security, which led to them getting ushered down to the boards to avoid the crowd. Amelia clutched onto you tightly, nervous from the large number of people.
Amelia wore the jersey Mat gave her, a black long sleeve underneath to combat the cold. Amelia told everyone in the group about the jersey, always bringing it up. She was the top entertainment of the night for the group. 
You stood next to Jen, who pointed out where Anthony and Mat were. Amelia squealed, placing her hand against the glass. 
“There! Momma, there’s daddy!” Amelia cheered, pointing at Mat across the ice.
“I see, Mils.” You held her tight to your body. Though you refused to admit it, Amelia was getting bigger, so holding her for a long amount of time started to tire out your arms. “I’m gonna set you down, okay?”
You sat Amelia down, her head barely popping over the boards. Matt Martin skated over to Mat and Anthony, nudging them. Matt pointed over to you and Jen, leading to both boys skating over to the three.
“He’s coming over, mommy!” Amelia squealed, standing on her tiptoes to look over the boards.
Mat stopped before he collided with the boards, squatting down to look at Amelia. He held his hand against the glass, Amelia placing her hand on the opposite side.
“Better play good, daddy!” Amelia shouted, a bright smile on her face.
Mat let out a laugh, saying something inaudible before joining his team. You scooped Amelia back into your arms, following Jen back up to the main area of the arena. Security guards found you guys, leading the group up the box. Everyone got comfortable, chatting before the game started.
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It was now nearing the end of the third period, Islanders leading 5-2. Mat had scored three goals so far, he was playing an amazing game. The girls kept commenting about how you were his good luck charm. 
In the last minute of the game, Mat scored his final goal. It clicked in your head quickly, four goals for Amelia. You noticed it quickly, watching as he played more aggressively on offense. He was making lots of attempts throughout the night, hoping to score as many goals as possible.
Amelia cheered for the goal, jumping around in front of the glass.
“That’s four! Four points!” Amelia cheered, clapping her hands. You took out your phone, recording a video of her excited reaction.
“Four goals for the big four year old!” Emma smiled, fist bumping Amelia.
The box erupted in cheers, you just taking a sip from your drink. The whole game, the smile on your face was never once erased. All your nerves about taking Amelia to a crowded arena filled with rowdy men seemed to cease to nothing.
The game ended, the Islanders winning 6-2. The girls waited in the box for another twenty minutes before going down to the tunnel. Most of the boys were leaving already. A few were stuck in the dressing room, doing media. Mat was one of them, considering he played one of his best games all season. 
Another ten minutes passed, Amelia starting to get grouchy. Soon enough, Mat exited the room, Amelia instantly perking up. She reached out of him, a cheesing smile plastered on her face. Mat took her into his arms, pressing a kiss to your cheek.
“You did so great!” Amelia smiled, pressing her hands against Mat’s red face. “You got four goals, Matty. I guess you can still play dolls with me.” Amelia leaned her head against Mat’s shoulder.
“You guess?” Mat let out a laugh. “Got four goals just for you, Milly.” 
Your face warmed at his words, your suspicions being quickly proven. You pulled out your phone, quickly snapping a picture of Mat and Amelia. You loved to capture little moments like this, always enjoying looking back at them. 
“Four goals for me? Oh! Cause I’m four now! You got them for me!” Amelia squealed, her excitement seeping from her small body. A yawn fell from her mouth, her mood quickly shifting. “I’m tired.” She mumbled.
You and Mat both let out a laugh. “Time to put the princess in bed.” You commented. “For sure, you guys are staying with me again tonight?” Mat asked, leading you out of the hallway. 
“Yes.”
By the time you guys got out to Mat’s car, Amelia was asleep in his arms. Mat safely buckled her into the carseat, tossing his bag into the trunk of the car. The radio was kept at a low volume as you guys drove home. 
Mat had his hand tightly clasped in yours.
“She wouldn’t shut up about you all night,” You spoke quietly, careful to not wake the sleeping girls.
“Is that right?” Mat raised his eyebrows, glancing at you quickly.
“Yup, every other word was your name.” You replied, your eyes fixated on the man. “She had a lot of fun.”
“Did you have fun?” Mat asked, his focus on the road in front of him.
“I did, you make it hard to not have fun.” You admitted, a small smile on your face. “The girls think I’m your good luck charm, they are silly.” You shook your head, a small laugh falling from your mouth.
“You are, baby. You give me a reason to play good,” Mat replied, causing a small blush to form on your face.
“Better keep me around for a while, so that you’ll always play good.” You playfully replied.
“I planned on keeping you around for a while.”
Your face glowed a bright red, though the dark atmosphere kept it hidden. Your body filled with the feeling you thought you’d never feel again. A feeling that had been long forgotten since you’ve been with Amelia’s biological father. After he left, you swore to never fall in love with someone. 
Then Mat showed up and he became your only exception.
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midnightsnyx · 2 months
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girl at home | mat barzal | part 8
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pairing: mat barzal x fem!reader
warnings: angst, mentions of alcohol and pregnancy word count: 1.7k authors note: so marlee, stella & evan are some oc's!! i mentioned that i was gonna add a new character so that mama would have a friend. as always, HUGE thank you to @barzysbaby for her support and help on this story 💙 enjoy and thank you all for the love and support <3 we still have lots coming!
masterlist masterpost askbox requests are open🫶🏻
After graduation, you didn’t have many friends. Most of them moved away for university and the few that did stay, you quickly learned, were only friends with you because of your relationship with Mat. Once he was gone, they acted like they didn’t know you. 
The whole teen pregnancy didn’t help either.
Your mom was the only one you had in the delivery room and when visiting hours were over, and you were in your room with Nora alone, that was when the loneliness kicked in. It was when you realized that you were alone, that you were responsible for an actual human being and that realization scared the crap out of you. Things only got worse throughout the night when Nora wouldn’t stop crying and you had no idea what to do. You’d been to all the classes, read the books and watched unrealistic movies but nothing could compare to what being a mom actually felt like. You were sure you would lose your mind but then shift change happened, and you met Marlee. 
Marlee was your nurse for 12 hours, and in those 12 hours, she became a new friend. She was a mom to a one-year-old named Stella so she had just been through the difficult infant stage and she spent every single of her breaks that day with you, giving you advice and helping you. When her shift was over, she gave you her number and told you that if you ever needed anything, to call her. You didn’t plan on calling her, not wanting to impose but on a bad night, when your mom was working a night shift and Nora just wouldn’t stop crying, you caved and called her. She didn’t hesitate to come over and help you, assuring you that her husband was home with Stella. She spent the entire night helping you with a crying Nora who turned out to have colic. 
After that, a beautiful friendship was born. Nora and Stella grew up together like two peas in a pod, and you made a great friend. 
A great enough friend that when she got home from vacation and learned what was going on with Mat and Calista, you had to talk her down from going and “taking that bitch out”. 
You weren’t sure if she was kidding or not. 
“I need a drink,” she mumbles after you manage to talk her down. You’ve never seen her so angry so you follow her to her kitchen, politely declining a glass of wine.
“It’s three o’clock in the afternoon,” you explain when she raises an eyebrow at you. 
“Honey, it’s five o’clock somewhere.”
“True,” you agree. “I’ll still pass though.”
She shrugs and walks back to the living room, flopping on the couch and groaning. 
“I do not want to go back to work tomorrow.”
You sit next to her, knocking your shoulder against hers and smiling. “You get to go help a bunch of new mama’s,” you remind her and she smiles sheepishly.
“Yeah,” she agrees. 
The two of you watch a couple episodes of Yellowstone before the door opens and you hear giggles and a man trying to wrangle two kids inside. You tilt your head back and see Marlee’s husband Evan, helping Nora and Stella take their shoes off before they run into the living room and jump on the couch with you and Marlee. 
“Mama!” Nora shrieks, bouncing up and down on the seat next to you. “Can I please have a sleepover with Stella?” 
You pretend to think about it, even though you and Marlee had planned for Nora to stay the night anyway. She was supposed to spend the day with Mat tomorrow, but she’s refusing to see him. You tried talking to her about it, but she threw a fit and you decided not to push her. Besides, you haven’t heard from Mat since you talked the other day so you’re not even sure if he would want to see her. 
“Well, I guess you can stay the night,” you finally say and she squeals and hugs you before running off with Stella. You smile at them and then turn back to Marlee who’s doing the same. 
“Evan will drop them off at camp tomorrow,” she says and you nod. 
“I’ll head out,” you tell her, standing up and grabbing your keys off the table. “Liana wants to see me tomorrow. Wouldn’t say why.”
Marlee frowns. “Do you think she knows?” 
You hesitate, not having considered that. It’s possible Liana wants to see you in person if she knows about Calista. The thought makes your stomach go in knots. You don’t want to lie to her that you knew, but you don’t want her to be mad that you didn’t tell her. 
“Maybe,” you say. “I’ll let you know.”
“Alright, have a good night.” 
“You too,” you reply before going to say goodbye to Nora. She’s distracted but hugs you and smiles when you tell her you’ll see her tomorrow.
“Bye mama,” she waves as you leave and you can’t help but think about how quickly she’s growing. It feels like yesterday you were sitting on your bathroom floor, staring at a positive pregnancy test and now she’s becoming her own little person. You shed a few tears on the way home, but they’re happy tears which is a change considering lately the only time you’ve cried is when Mat does something stupid, like brush off Nora’s feelings because of his girlfriend. 
You’re still waiting for a call or text from him, not wanting to crack first and reach out to him. When you were dating, he would always come to you after an argument. You both hated fighting, and it was something that wasn’t common in your relationship. 
But six years and a life changing secret changes a lot. 
. . .
Liana insists that you meet up at your apartment, not wanting to be at the Barzal household. It makes you feel like she probably does know about Calista’s pregnancy. 
She shows up at ten o’clock on the dot, bulldozing into your apartment the minute you open the door. 
“Um, hey?” you say, closing the door and turning to see her standing a few feet away from you, arms crossed and scowling. 
“Did you know?”
When you don’t say anything, she starts pacing. 
“Why didn’t you tell me? You knew I was worried!” she cries, stopping to look at you. There are tears in her eyes and your heart breaks. You feel like all you’ve done since Mat got home and you brought Nora into their lives, is cause pain. It wasn’t right of you to keep her away, you know that but you’re only starting to realize just how hard it must have been on them. 
“It wasn’t my secret to tell,” you say but she shakes her head.
“No, you owe me this. I didn’t get mad about Nora but you knew that Calista is pregnant and you didn’t tell me! I was worried sick about Mat but you knew the entire time.” 
It was rare that Liana yelled, but you’re sure your neighbors can hear her. 
“Liana-”
“No,” she snaps, cutting you off. “You should have told me.” 
“Does Nadia know?” you ask quietly and Liana pauses, as if she’s considering not telling you. 
Eventually, her shoulders drop. “No. Mat wants to keep it that way so don’t say anything,” she says. “Not like you have trouble keeping secrets.”
She leaves before you can reply, leaving you standing in the middle of your apartment. It was a low blow, but you know you deserved it. Liana didn’t necessarily have a right to know about Mat’s situation, but she was right about Nora. 
You should have given them a chance.
. . .
“It’s not too late, you know,” your mom said. She was holding a copy of your sonogram, smiling softly. You were lucky how well your mom took the news when you went to her and told her you were pregnant. She promised to support you no matter your decision and when you told her you wanted to keep the baby, she was there every step of the way.
The only thing she didn’t agree with was your decision to keep Nora out of the Barzal’s lives. She tried to say that maybe they would be able to keep Mat from finding out, but you couldn’t take the chance. You knew that Mat would eventually find out somehow and that was exactly what you didn’t want. 
“I’ve made up my mind,” you told her and looked at your own copy of the sonogram. “He can’t know.”
. . .
When you go to Marlee’s the next day, you’re surprised to find her home early. She was supposed to work until eight but it’s four in the afternoon when you go to pick Nora up and she’s sitting at the kitchen table, reading something. 
“Hey,” you say and her head snaps up so quickly you hear a crack that makes you wince.
Her face is white as a ghost, and she’s gripping the papers in her hand tight enough that they’re starting to buckle. 
“Where are the kids?” you ask, walking over and sitting down. She shoves the papers to the side and attempts to smile at you but it’s forced. 
“Evan took them for ice cream,” she says.
“That’s nice,” you reply, trying to figure out what’s going on. “Was Nora good? Didn’t give you any trouble?” 
“Of course not,” she reassures you. “Angel as always.”
You watch her shift in her chair and glance at the papers. You’re tempted to just take them so you can figure out why Marlee’s so nervous but obviously it’s private so you don’t push. You’re opening your mouth to ask her when Evan will be back so you can take Nora to see your mom when words start tumbling out of her mouth.
“She lied,” she says quickly. “She lied, and I took her file and I’m probably going to get fired but I couldn’t just let her get away with lying about something so important when it can affect-”
“Who?” you cut her off. “Who lied about what?”
Her face pales more if it’s even possible. 
“Calista. She lied about being pregnant.”
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yelenasdog · 1 year
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vibrant, saccharine, his ☼ (fwb!mat barzal x fwb!fem reader) 
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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
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“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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bejeweledaus · 5 months
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WHO’S HE? | Mat Barzal au!
*COMING SOON*
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summary; in which Mat Barzal is crushing on model y/n y/l/n but she has no idea who he is.
pairings; mat barzal x model!reader
social media fic
Chapter Index;
• PROLOGUE (coming soon!)
148 notes · View notes
thatsdemko · 1 year
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neighbor - m.barzal
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masterlist
requested: n
pairings: mat barzal x fem!reader
warnings: mentions of alcohol + mentions of first round 2023 playoffs
a/n: feedback is always appreciated xx
he’s your neighbor for Christs sake, but you can’t help but stare. ever since the very attractive brunette across the way started opening his blinds more, you couldn’t help but feel your eyes gravitate more towards that window.
and how could you not? half the time he’s in an unbuttoned linen shirt and sweatpants walking around his apartment, while the other half he’s dressed to the nines in a suit and tie. needless to say, he’s quite nice to stare at.
he hasn’t caught on, but every so often he pretends to stretch a couple feet away in front of the window to stare at you. he pretty much knows your morning routine, how you get up in nothing but a sports bra and sweatpants, you start your coffee pot first thing, and usually play with your cat for the next thirty minutes before you disappear to work.
he’s seen you in your outfits for the bars to your next morning hungover pajamas, and he’s even seen you when you think nobody else can. it’s okay, he won’t say a thing but he does enjoy the show every so often.
it’s two in the morning when he’s awake, playoffs just about to start his mind can’t help to wander. it’s prompted him to slip outside, enjoy the fresh air to clear his thoughts.
“you look cold.” you say watching his head snap in your direction, you’re met with none other than his eyes. the ones you made bets about how pretty they would be in person, and you were right, they were gorgeous.
“oh,” he says looking down at himself, he’s in nothing but sweatpants and a pair of slides. it didn’t take him until you said something to realize the weather outside his apartment is actually unpleasant, and rather chilly for a man who’s not wearing a shirt.
“I’m y/n, I think my window looks at yours.”
he nods moving over on the bench allowing you to sit, “I’m mat, it’s nice to finally put a name to your face.” he watches you take a seat all the way at the edge, a nervous smile placing your face as you two listen to the sirens and faint voices of the city.
“so why are you awake?” he bites first, pulling his arms across his chest to try and stay warm. it’s too early to invite you back to his place, sit inside his heated space, he’ll just have to make due to keep warm until it’s the right time.
you shrug, “lots to think about, you?” you turn to him and he nods, you watch him run his fingers through his short brown hair. you remember the day he came home with a buzz cut, your friends practically mourned the loss.
“yeah works getting a little competitive I’d say.” he sighs, eyes looking upward at the stars, only a few shine bright in the cities skies. it makes him miss home, the amount of stars he’d see in the sky are much brighter and clearer than the clouded ones of New York.
“is that why you dress up sometimes? sorry, I don’t mean to sound weird I just see you—“
his laugh cuts you off, of all those times you’ve seen him laugh you never expected it to sound like it does against your ears. it brings a smile to your face. “kind of, although I’m supposed to dress clean for work, bosses demand.”
“so that’s why you got a buzz cut?” you ask moving a little closer to him, you can see the goosebumps that decorate his arms.
“that was my own doing.”
“a poor decision if I must say so.” you snap back, watching him roll his eyes in response. he mutters a couple words you can’t hear but you don’t press to figure them out.
“I must say, you’re judging me a lot for someone who wears the same clothes three days in a row.” he sends you a playful wink and you’re thankful for the night lights that don’t cast over your red cheeks of embarrassment.
“I think I’m going to start closing my blinds from you.”
he moves in front of his window, suit jack and button up shirt holding two different ties in each hand. holding them up, you move to the window from the kitchen to point at the one you like the most. you’re liking this new found friendship, ever since that late night on the bench, things have been awfully fun and exciting.
you’d go to your window, hold up whatever decision you had and he’d answer with his opinion. you’d see each other on the streets more often than you expected, and sometimes he’d even walk you to your office for work. he was becoming a friend rather than just some neighbor.
“then my friends and I were thinking of going to the bars, you’re more than welcome to come! I’m sure they’d love to meet you.” you nudge his shoulder with your elbow listening to him hiss at the burnt coffee that split over his hand.
“I’d love to but I actually have a date tonight.” he proudly smiles, it’s the first you’d talk about relationships. you always assumed he was single. having not seen a single woman over in his place, unless it was his mother, so it makes since the bachelor was getting lonely in his nice pad.
you’re just not sure why you feel your throat closeup and the saliva in your mouth make it impossible for you to start a sentence.
“but if I change my mind you’ll text me the address?” he stops in front of your office, and all you can do is nod before bidding him a quiet goodbye before rushing up the stairs to the big doors of your building.
when you finally get up there, you heave out a long breath finally feeling your throat clear and salvia dry your mouth. boy, did you have a story to tell your girlfriends tonight.
they were rooting for you two, saying it’s a perfect trope of boy meets girl and boy next door. and yeah maybe you were also rooting for it happen too, because as time went on you developed feelings for him that were more than just a crush. you began to enjoy his company more and more, you just wish maybe he enjoyed it the same amount.
when he enters the bar of the location you’ve sent him, it’s not hard to find you. your smile brightens up any room, and can easily be spotted a mile away. after a shitty date, seeing you was all he wanted.
he moves throughout the sweaty bodies, couple of them offer pats to his shoulders congratulating him on the playoffs achievements, but none of those matter. he’s more focused on getting closer to you, and when he does a man that had been blocked by other bodies comes into focus.
he’s got his hand on your hip, as he yells into your ear, whatever it was made you laugh, but nothing like how mat made you laugh. he had the ability to get your full unhinged reaction, your body leaning forward and a snort or two. he thinks it’s cute.
your attention shifts when you recognize that familiar body that’s standing a couple feet away, “mat, you came!” you exclaim, motioning for him to come closer and he does.
“no way you know mat barzal.” the guy you’re talking to is stunned as he extends a hand, mat gladly takes it assuming he’s fan, “I fucking hope the canes destroy you guys.”
mat quick to withdraws his hand from the other guys grip, you give the two a confused look having no clue what they are talking about, “mat barzal, islanders player? please tell me you watch sports.” he laughs. you shake your head slowly looking up at your neighbor, who’s nervously playing with the hairs on the nape of his neck.
“hey man congratulations though!” the guy you’re talking to excuses himself, and you’re pretty sure he won’t be coming back, but that’s fine. mat’s here and from what you remember, it means his date didn’t go as planned.
“so you’re alone, it didn’t go well?” you turn to him and he shrugs a slight nod. he watches you play with the tiny straws in your drink trying to slurp the rest of the liquid.
“how many of those you had?” he chuckles watching you nearly chug half the drink before he jokingly pulls it away from your lips, “easy now.”
“I don’t know, they’ve all been free.”
he laughs watching you sway side to side from the music, but the alcohol that’s following through your body, “why don’t I buy you a glass of water and we can go home?” he offers, you happily nod heading to say goodbye to your friends.
once you’re out the doors of the bar, he drapes his coat around your shoulders and he offers for you to come inside his place. you’re eager to see the rest whether you’ll remember it or not, but you nod following him inside saying hello to his doorman.
when you enter his place most of it isn’t what you expected it to be. it’s minimal decorations, only a few decorative pieces of art work hang on the walls, and a hockey stick hangs above his dinning room table.
“Crosby’s stick. he gave it to me after my first game against him. I nearly cried.” he laughs watching you move across his floors taking in his space, you stop at the infamous window and look inside your apartment.
you can se the hallway that leads to your bedroom, the cat tree where you cat sleeps in, and the living room where you spend most of your time entertaining your boring nights.
“I didn’t realize how much you see of me.” you turn to him, he’s seated on his cream colored couch shaking his head.
“I look over yeah, but I know when to look away.”
“like when?” you dangerously ask, moving to sit beside him on his couch, he positions himself to look at you.
“okay like when you get out of the shower and you have on no towel, I know to look away. I’m not a pervert.” he scoffs having remembered the time his mother was over and nearly had a heart attack at the sight of you.
you gasp, hand covering your mouth, “do not tell me you’ve seen me in nothing but my underwear and bra?!”
he gives you look of confirmation without even saying the words, you hide your face into one of his pillows hearing that beautiful laugh ring your ears, “oh come on! it’s okay, I’m sure you’ve seen me in my underwear before.”
you pull your face away from the pillow with rosy red cheeks, “yeah but that’s different! you walk around in your shorts and nothing on all the time!”
he smirks, “oh so you do watch me?” watching you shove your face into the pillow of embarrassment once more.
“it’s okay, I like knowing it’s you watching me rather than some other girl. I was beginning to think you didn’t notice.”
you pull your face away from the pillow tossing it aside, “what’s that supposed to mean?” you ask, and it’s his faces turn to light up red.
“isn’t it obvious?”
you shake your head, “it’s as obvious as you playing a sport!”
he laughs moving a little closer to you on the couch, “I wouldn’t be asking someone which tie to wear if I didn’t like them a little more than a friend.” he places a hand against your kneecap watching you lean back against his couch.
“you like me more than just a neighbor?”
“I guess it’s not as obvious as I thought it would be.”
you shake your head, “you’re horrible at making things obvious, but it’s okay we can work on it.”
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mnxxlove · 3 months
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So who was gonna tell me that Mat Barzal is a swiftie???
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adorethedistance · 1 year
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Black and White - Mat Barzal x Reader
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Hockey Masterlist
Warnings: Swearing, mentions anxiety, almost pg13
Words: 1385
Summary: After attending one of the isles’ many fundraising events, a simple walk in the park turns into a moment the two of you will never forget.
A/n: I’m like 90% done with finals and so I’m filling this anonymous request  as a result. I hope y’all like this quick little fic and as an update there’s a fluffy Zegras fic in the works. 
“Thank you for coming with me tonight,” Mat says from behind a fleeting scoop of bubblegum ice cream. The Islanders fundraising gala was fun and all but Mat and I dipped out before closing remarks in favor of grabbing ice cream before Baskin Robbins closed. So now we’re walking around a random park, black tie attire, in the cold Long Island night.
“You don’t have to thank me, I’m your girlfriend. Being your plus one is part of the gig, and I’m more than happy to do it.” Mat lets go of my hand to lift his arm and gesture me over. I gladly accept the warmth as I’m nearly freezing from walking around at night in a light coat while eating ice cream. He hugs me into his side and kisses my cheek gently. I breathe a small laugh as his lips are still cold.
“How do you know if you want to marry someone?” Mat asks out of nowhere. I hesitate for a second, jarred by his candidness.
“Are you asking me specifically or like the general ‘you’?”
“I’m asking you specifically.” I pause to collect my thoughts and Mat watches me carefully.
“...Well…I think for me specifically…I want an equal relationship where I feel like I lean on them as much as they lean on me for support. I want someone who respects my boundaries and knows I’m their partner and not their therapist. Whoever it is will get along with my family and at the very least tolerate my friends,” we share a small laugh amidst the tense moment. “I want someone who understands how I give love and helps me understand how to give them love and- why are you looking at me like that?” Mat barks out a nervous laugh. He takes his arm off of my shoulders and messes with his hair a bit. One of his nervous habits that I’m not sure he realizes he has.
“Do you think… I meet those requirements?” I hesitate but only because I’m trying to remember everything that I said.
“Yes, I think you do.” Mat smiles relieved before taking my hand in his own once more, placing a kiss on the top of it. We continue through the park, heading back to the car when a sudden flash of light catches our attention. Looking to the source, we see that a gazebo covered in christmas lights had previously not been lit. I snap my head around to look at Mat and the look on his face tells me he already knows just how excited I am about it.
“I don’t know how I didn’t notice this before!” I say as I’m pulling Mat along with me. His pace was too casual for the kind of urgency this sight has instilled in me. As we get closer, someone stands up and I stop in my place. I don’t want to impose on someone else’s time with the pretty lights. Opening my mouth to speak, I immediately cut myself off when I recognize the not so unfamiliar stranger.
“Beau?” I ask when he turns around. He looks at me, slightly panicked. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh my god, no way!” I hear a woman’s voice from behind me and Mat. I turn around to see it’s Emma emerging from a weird angle. She’s coming at us from behind rather than from the parking lot or from the shops.
“Long time no see,” I joke, happy to see our friends despite just spending the last three hours with them. “What’s up? Are you guys also on a walk… at the same park?” Beau and Emma share a look before she gestures him over to where she’s standing.
“Yeah, I was telling him about this gazebo because I drove by one night and the lights were just so pretty I wanted to show him.”
“Gotcha. Well if you want, I can take some cute pictures of the two of you!” I offer happily and Emma and Beau share another look.
“That… would be great, thank you! Beau?” She looks at him and nods over to the gazebo. He looks at Mat with the most confused look I’ve ever seen.
“You okay?” I ask as Emma hands me her phone. She has to physically walk over and grab Beau which snaps him back into reality.
“Yeah I’m good,” he replies quietly and walks into the gazebo. Emma barely poses and I’m about to snap the third photo when she breaks away and walks over to get her phone from me.
“That should be good, thank you.”
“Are you sure? I only took like three-”
“Yeah, no, we’re good! Your turn!” She says urgently and nudges me toward the gazebo. I decide not to push back and when I turn to beckon Mat over, he doesn’t follow.
“I’ll hold your coat so you can get outfit pictures first.” I reluctantly nod and then shrug off my jacket. Why is everyone being so weird?
“You gotta hurry because I am FREEZING!” I instruct Emma and she laughs before nodding.
“Copy that.”
“Okay, I want full fit and shoes for some and then just waist up in the others,” I speak quickly before posing and trying not to shiver violently. “Fuuuuuucckk it’s so cold.” All three of them laugh at my dramatics. Mat shakes his head amusedly and then hands my coat to Beau so he can get in the pictures. He wraps an arm around my waist for a few pictures and Emma snaps approximately two before putting on her director hat.
“Okay, Y/n stay where you are. Mat can I have you stand to the side of her but take a tiny little step back?”
“How should I pose without him…?” I ask skeptically. I don’t think I can see the creative vision and I hope Mat is also a little lost so I don’t just look like an idiot. When I turn to see if he’s also puzzled, I don’t get the moment I’m hoping for. Rather than sharing a confused look and laughing about it, I find him placed just out of my line of sight on one knee with one hand tucked into his jacket pocket.
My eyes go wide for a millisecond before welling up so full of tears that I can no longer see. I hold my right hand over my mouth to keep myself from crying harder. Mat has small tears in his eyes as he holds a small velvet box the color of the Isles signature blue.
“Y/n… you are the love of my life. I remember the first time you came over to my apartment. It was date number four. I made us dinner and you went to the bathroom and when you came back you were very anxious.” I laugh through my tears as I recall the evening and how the story went.
“You were acting weird the entire night and when I asked what was wrong, you were silent for a minute before asking if I “actually” used 3-in-1 shampoo. I laughed so hard I nearly cried and from that moment on, I knew you were endgame.” His simple word choice makes me laugh and the swelling of emotions in my chest makes me forget just how cold I was before.
“Y/n Y/l/n, will you marry me?” I begin to sob so uncontrollably that I can’t speak so I just nod an emphatic yes. Mat smiles brightly before taking the ring out of the box and sliding it onto it’s permanent spot on my left hand.
I don’t even wait for him to stand up before grabbing his face and kissing him with the passion only two people madly in love could ever know. He kisses me back and places his hands on my waist. Emma and Beau cheer and I remember they’ve been here the whole time.
“You motherfuckers! You knew, didn’t you?” They laugh at my outburst and confirm my suspicion. Mat rises to his full height and when he’s standing I playfully shove his chest. “That’s why you were being so weird today!”
“How does it feel to be engaged, man?” Beau asks and Mat huffs a long sigh.
“I don’t know, I think I blacked out.”
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prettytoxicrevolver · 11 months
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Pancake | Mat Barzal
Your first date with Mat Barzal
warnings? none
wc: 739
“Pancakes or Waffles?” 
“Depends,” you respond. 
“Depends? What do you mean it depends?” He asks, laughing that signature high laugh of his. 
“It depends!” you insist, matching his wide grin. 
“Okay tell me,” he says, still smiling but trying to settle into a serious expression. 
“If they’re homemade I pick pancakes,” you say and he nods in response. “My mom made the best pancakes when I was a kid.” 
“If they’re store bought, it has to be blueberry eggo waffles.” 
“What about regular or chocolate chip?” he asks and you shake your head. 
“Nope. Has to be blueberry.” 
“Alright alright,” he says absentmindedly, pulling your hands into his over the table and playing with your fingers. 
“If it’s restaurant food, pancakes all day.” 
“So you like pancakes better over all?” he asks and you shake your head. 
“Nope, it still depends.” 
Mat grins widely, unable to contain his sheer joy in your presence. He thought you were absolutely ridiculous, and yet he wanted to hear every single word that left your mouth. Wanted to write it all down and read it over and over, keep it to himself so that no one finds the true 7th wonder of the world. 
“So, we’re at a restaurant. I should get pancakes,” he states, still grinning. 
“But what kind? Blueberry, strawberry, buttermilk, chocolate, sprinkles?” 
“Depends,” you say and Mat rolls his eyes but doesn’t mean a second of it. He wants to know your answer. 
“Blueberry and strawberry are too healthy but that’s your choice, buttermilk is too plain, and sprinkles are too sweet.” 
“Chocolate?” 
“Chocolate is the perfect middle,” you say matter of factly. 
It was ridiculous. He loved every second of it. He wondered if he would ever stop grinning. 
“And what do you get? Or is that a loaded question?” 
“Only if you have an hour,” you joke. 
Mat felt like he was walking on air the entire night. He always felt like that around you, your energy and joy never ceasing to flow into him. To have the honor of taking you on a date? Mat was over the moon. 
“Desert?” the waitress asks and you and Mat cast glances over at each other. 
“Just give us a moment,” Mat says, knowing you were a fiend for sweets. 
“Is desert just as complicated?” he asks when the waitress walks away. 
“Absolutely.” 
“Well?” he asks, egging you on. 
“Milkshake and french fries.” 
“No way,” he says and you grin like you’re the expert of all gourmet food. 
“Just trust me,” you say.
How could he not? He had trusted you the minute you opened your mouth to say hi to him. He has an overwhelming feeling of security around you. 
The waitress comes back with one milkshake, two straws, and a plate of fries. She grins at the two of you like she knows something you don’t before backing away with the reminder that if you needed anything to let her know. 
“Okay take a fry,” you instruct Mat. “Now dip it into the shake and enjoy.” 
Mat looks at you skeptically but does it anyway. You watch as his face contorts from one of confusion to pure happiness and you smile alongside him. 
“Okay you’re ordering for me from now on,” he says around a mouthful of fries. 
“I told you to trust me.” 
Mat pays for dinner and leads you out of the diner into the busy new york city streets. His hand slips into yours and it feels like a bolt of electricity has shocked him from end to end. He has the strong urge to never let go again. 
The walk back to your apartment is calming besides the rapid beating of your heart. Surprisingly the two of you are quiet, but it’s not uncomfortable, it’s everything you needed and more. By the time you get to your apartment, you realize you didn’t want to end the night. 
“So,” Mat starts “I really hope we can do this again.” 
“I’m insisting on it,” you respond and Mat grins looking at the ground to hide his blush. 
You start to turn and walk into your apartment but Mat grabs your wrist. You turn back towards him and he hesitates, his eyes flickering between your eyes and your lips. He dips down to meet you, his lips like honey on yours, sweet and perfect. 
“I’ll see you later,” he whispers before letting you go, leaving you speechless. 
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theemporium · 1 month
Note
mat and reader having a tradition? After every win they get a strawberry milkshake or something? something just between them? and maybe if reader cannot go with him, she gets someone to buy one ?
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
.
“I miss you.”
It hadn’t been the first time he had said it since you had called him after his game, and you doubted it would be his last either. But it made your heart swoon, nonetheless. 
“I miss you too,” you murmured back, your cheek pressed against the pillow as you glanced at him on your phone. It was propped up on your bedside table, leaning against your lamp so you could lay comfortably in bed as you spoke. “But you guys are killing it on the roadie. Two wins, huh?” 
His lips twitched. “Yeah, but they’d be better if you were in the crowd.” 
“What, sitting at home decked out in Islander number thirteen merch wasn’t enough?” You teased, deciding to withhold the part where you ordered a shit ton of team merchandise from your boyfriend. 
All in all, your relationship with Mat was still fairly new. Being a hockey player with an insane schedule wasn’t ideal for starting a new relationship, so despite knowing each other for the better part of a year, it took a few months before you decided to make it official. 
And Mat had played away games since making it official, but this time it just hit harder. 
Maybe it was because it was his longest roadie yet. Or maybe it was because you finally felt like you and Mat were starting to get into the swing of things, that natural flow that clicked when the relationship felt stable enough. Or maybe it was simply because you missed the boy, because your love for him was growing with each day.
But after getting so used to sleeping at each other’s apartment, the empty bed had been particularly upsetting to return to every night since he had been gone.
“It was more than enough, baby,” Mat replied with a fond smile on his face, thinking back to the photo you sent him of you bundled up on the couch with his jersey on. “But it feels wrong not celebrating wins the proper way.” 
The proper way being with a cold, full-fat strawberry milkshake the two of you would get from a local diner—one that his trainers would definitely drop dead if they saw him stepping into. It was reserved only for wins, for a celebration between the two of you. And just like you, he knew it wasn’t the first time he won an away game and couldn’t share a milkshake with you, but it hit harder knowing that he couldn’t have it this time.
“Hm, what do you mean?”
His brows furrowed together in confusion. “What?”
“I think we are celebrating the proper way,” you replied with a nonchalant shrug, half-burying your face in your pillow to hide the grin growing on your face. 
Mat’s confusion only grew and, much to your amusement, he looked partially offended. Almost like he couldn’t quite believe you had forgotten your shared tradition. 
“I—” Mat started before he was cut off by the sound of someone knocking on his door.
He disappeared from the screen for a few moments and you used the time to set yourself up. You sat up on the bed, leaning back against the headboard and letting the duvet fall to your waist to expose one of his hoodies you had stolen from his wardrobe a few weeks ago. You waited for him to return, an eager smile on your face.
“Baby,” his voice was so sweet and fond as he returned to the camera, holding a milkshake in his hand with a cheesy grin on his face.
“Surprise!” You grinned, leaning over to pick up the milkshake that had been sitting out of shot since you had been on the phone to him. “It’s not the same as the diner but—”
“It’s perfect,” Mat finished for you, his cheeks looking a little rosier than before. “I can’t believe you set this up.” 
“I wanted to celebrate properly with my boy to show him how proud I am,” you replied simply, watching as his expression brightened at the use of ‘my boy’. 
“I can’t fucking wait to kiss you.” 
“Me too, babe. Me too.”
.
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hischierdevils · 11 months
Note
barzys birthday is on friday could you write bday smut for him?
You were lying on Mats chest when you peeled your eyes open. He was laying on his back snoring softly with his head was turned away from you. He had one arm around your waist and the other on your thigh, essentially keeping you on top of him.
You could feel his chest rise and fall with each breath as you picked up your head so you could look at his face. His hair was sticking to his forehead but with his long dark lashes and perfect lips, you were sure you’d never seen a more beautiful man.
“I can feel you staring, baby.” Mat mumbles causing you to jump in surprise. His arm that’s around your waist tightens to keep you in place as he turns his head to look at you.
“I wasn’t staring, I was appreciating my handsome man on his birthday.” You say before placing a kiss on his bare chest.
He chuckles and you can feel the vibrations from it. “You can touch you know.” He gently moves the hand that’s on your thigh so he can cup your bare ass. The only thing you wore to bed last night was one of his t-shirts. “You don’t just have to look.”
You grin and push off the bed so you can straddle him, pushing the sheets away from the two of you as you run your fingertips down his chest. “But I love looking at you.”
In one swift motion he puts his hands on your hips and flips the two of you so he’s hovering above you. “It’s my birthday, princess.” He bends down to kiss you softly, trailing his mouth from your lips down your jaw line to your ear lobe. “And I want to touch you while you tell me all of the reasons why you love me.”
You let out a moan in surprise as he thrusts his boxer-clad erection right against your heat. Planting one arm by your head to hold him upright, he kisses a trail down your neck as his free hand slides underneath the shirt your wearing.
“I-“ You can’t form a single thought, too wrapped up in the way the calluses on Mat’s hand feel as he cups your soft breast and rolls your nipple between his fingers.
“Go on baby.” He nudges your jaw with his nose so you’ll expose more of your throat to him. “Tell me.”
“You’re passionate.” You say breathlessly as he licks and bites at your neck. “You’re caring.”
“Mhm.” Mat hums against your skin as his hand moves to your other breast. “What else?”
“You make me a wetter person.” You sigh in frustration as you try to move your hips against him in search of friction. “…I mean a better person.”
He grins and kisses your lips before trailing his hand down your stomach, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. “Are you wet for me, princess?”
“Yes.” You grunt as he slightly runs his fingers over your pussy. “Please do something about it.”
“I’m the birthday boy.” He says as he pulls away from you so he’s essentially kneeling on the bed before you. “Aren’t we supposed to do what I want?”
“Mathew.” You whine. “Please fuck me.”
His smirk grows wider as he pulls his erection free from his boxers. “Only because you asked so nicely, princess.”
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kirkslver · 29 days
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౨ৎ mat barzal masterlist
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♫ now playing - dress by taylor swift
⇢ 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒
none yet!
⇢ 𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒
none yet!
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midnightsnyx · 2 months
Note
ooh i had a random idea come up for mat barzal x reader gf
where mat is protective of his gf when the paparazzi suddenly surround them after a game and someone tries to pull reader aside to get better shots of him
you still weren’t used to the crowds, the fans, the media that followed him around. it was something you knew you were getting yourself into when you started dating mat but it wasn’t easy.
after a particularly tough game, the two of you were making your way to his car when a couple of people came up asking for pictures with mat. he was tired and had a headache and you knew he wasn’t in the mood for photos but he plastered on a smile and nodded. you knew the drill so when he stood next to one of them, you automatically started to take a couple steps away but a hand grabbed your arm and pulled you in a different direction, making you stumble and nearly fall.
“watch it!” mat snapped, immediately moving towards you and pulling you closer to him. he glared at the guy who raised his hands defensively and walked away, along with the other people who had been waiting for a picture.
mat was grumbling under his breath as he directed you to his car, ignoring anyone that tried to stop and talk to him. he didn’t say anything until you were both in the car and driving home.
“can we go live in a cabin somewhere in the woods, away from everyone?” he joked but the idea was tempting to you.
“no ice rink in the woods,” you reminded him but he just smiled softly and reached out to hold your hand.
“as long as i have you, i’ll be okay.”
sleepover weekend
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gisellaswrld · 8 months
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you filled a hole in her heart; how she wishes you were there forever
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mb13 | after a long roadie, mat turns up at your apartment. he was shocked when he seen your young daughter awake, and they have a small heart to heart.
Mat didn't expect for his trip to be this long.
A whole month long to be exact. A whole month away from you and your daughter. Granted, Amelia wasn't even his kid, but when you saw how Amelia interacted with Mat, it was a dream come true.
Of course at some point you knew you would eventually move on from her father, but when it was with an NHL player... there were some concerns.
Concerns that ended up just like how this one played out, you were just too deep in your own sleep to know it happened.
Mat promised to come straight to your apartment when he got back to New York, and he did exactly that. His hockey bag was discarded by the front door, the whole apartment dark.
It was around midnight, due to flight delays.
He decided to take a shower, a short one. When Mat was done, he just threw on some pajama pants. While standing in the bathroom, he heard a door slowly creak open, small cries coming from the opening.
Mat knew you were fast asleep, you were entirely too heavy of a sleeper.
As he turned on his heels, he heard a quiet, sad voice. "Mat?" Amelia spoke from her door, tears slowly streaming down her tired face.
Mat furrowed his eyebrows at her. "Mils? Why are you awake, is everything okay?" He whispered.
Amelia shook her head, slowly walking to the man. She sniffled, clearly holding back her tears. When she stood in front of Mat, she leaned against his leg. Mat let out a quiet sigh, picking her up into his arms.
"What's wrong, Mils?" Mat asked, looking at the small girl in his arms.
"I thought you left," Amelia sadly told him, leaning against his shoulder. A quiet cry came from her trembling body. "You were gone for so long."
Mat knew exactly what she was talking about. A sad situation of sorts.
Amelia was young when her father left, but not young enough to know what happened. Amelia watched her father leave, and never return. Only earning a simple, "He's not coming back." from you.
When Mat first started seeing you, you made it clear that with time, he was going to be seen as a father figure in Amelia's life. You told Mat on many occasions that unless your relationship was serious, he wasn't going to meet your daughter.
You were overly worried. It was your first time on a date with a man since your daughters father abruptly left. Amelia was three, a small toddler, but smart enough to wonder why her dad wasn't around. Though her brain didn't quite grasp, you knew she was very sad about it all.
But when Amelia met Mat for the first time, and you seen how Mat interacted with Amelia, you knew it was going to be hard if it didn't work out. But is has, for at least a few months so far.
Amelia knew Mat had a busy job, she understood that. But when Mat leaves for the long trips, it confuses Amelia. Sometimes Amelia would think that Mat left and never was going to come back.
Luckily Facetime was an option.
"I'm sorry, Millie." Mat sighed, using his hand to smooth down her messy hair. Mat placed her on the counter of the sink, so that she was facing him.
"I thought you were leaving me," Amelia sniffled, her small body hunched on the sink.
"I'm sorry you thought that, I think your mom and I just assumed you knew.." Mat trailed off, running a hand through his own messy hair.
"I didn't," Amelia deadpanned, crossing her arms.
Mat raised his eyebrows at her sass. "Millie, sometimes for my job, I have to go on the road for long period of time. But I'm always going to come back,"
Amelia just stared at him, rubbing her eyes.
"You are unfortunately stuck with me for as long as your mom allows you to be. Because I love you and I love your mom," Mat tried to joke.
"I'm not stuck with you, I like having you around! You always watch TV with me," Amelia's sad demeanor quickly changed to a more bright, happy demeanor.
"Sometimes I'll be gone for a couple days, but it can get up to a couple weeks. But, I can promise you that I'll always come back." Mat held up his pinky, watching as Amelia latched their pinkies together.
"Okay," She nodded.
Amelia wrapped her small arms around Mat's torso, attempting to pull him in for a hug. Mat picked her up once more, ready to put her back down to bed.
Mat walked to her bedroom door and just as he was about to open it, Amelia let out a whine. Mat paused, looking down at the girl.
"What?" He spoke quietly, his face laced with confusion.
"I have a question, actually two questions," Amelia leaned her head onto Mat's shoulder.
"Ask away, but then you have to go to bed." Mat sternly told her. "Your mom will kill me if I let you stay up."
Amelia nodded, letting out a dramatic sigh. "Can I call you dad? Is that okay? And also can I sleep with you and mom?"
Mat's mind went completely blank.
The discussion of whether Amelia would call him dad or not was ongoing. For Mat, it was like the official title to prove he was the one she thought of as a parent. It put him on the same pedestal as you. And for you?
Well, when the moment would come, the moment of when Amelia would call Mat dad, it made you nervous. You were naive to the notion that hockey players weren't shit, that they weren't the most loyal ones in the bunch.
So for Amelia to put him in the father position in her life, it made you nervous for the slight chance he would leave the both of you.
If only you could see the true and honest thoughts in Mat's head.
"You want to call me dad?" Mat asked, waiting for Amelia's confirmation.
"Yes, and I want to sleep in the bed with you and mom." Amelia nodded, confirming her words.
"Yes, you can sleep with us, and yes you can call me dad.” Mat spoke calmly, but his mind was anything but calm.
His mind was racing, all positive thoughts. That’s the one thing he’s been working towards since he fell in love with you.
Mat was learning, adapting to conform into a father figure for Amelia. He’s taken care of her while she was sick, went to her school concerts and even took a picture with her for her first day of pre-school.
Amelia asking to call him dad just proved his hard work was for everything.
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abilouwrites · 6 months
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WHEN PUSH COMES TO SHOVE
Mat Barzal
I love writing angst and I haven’t done it in so long
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“You pick her every time” I exclaim, throwing my hands in the air from my frustrations, “it will never be me! Will it? It won’t!”
“Would you just listen?” He asks, reaching for my hand and I pull away again, “fucking listen to me!” He shouts, “it is you, but you act so jealous all the god damn time”
“Me? Jealous? Well of fucking corse!” I groan, pacing around the living room, “you’re surrounded by these women who are obviously better than me and Sarah” her name comes out as a whisper against my breath. Like a word that can’t be spoken. A name that shouldn’t be said.
“Sarah? This is all about Sarah?” He doesn’t treat her name with the same weight I do.
“Yes! You didn’t come home until morning because you were busy with her! Not me. Her! You text her good morning not me! On Roadies and shit I feel like is her you talk to not me” I cry out, thick hot tears fall down my face. He reaches for me and I pull away again.
“What the hell does that even mean?” He asks, “you think I should just date her? Instead of you?”
“The way you act right now Mat? Yeah I think you should” I choke out, I don’t wait for his response
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” He asks, he doesn’t block my path but he tries to
“Im going to Nico’s” I respond dryly as I grab my overnight bag and stuff some clothes in quickly.
“You accuse me of cheating and then you go to Nico’s?” He retorts; scoffing a little
“Don’t start with this right now!” I shout out, “at least I haven’t been caught with him this fucking close to my face like we’re kissing!”
He sighs and I drop my ring by the key bowl, “I need to get out”
New Jersey isn’t much of a drive but I end up there in morning. “What’s wrong?” Nico asks as he lets me inside
“Mat. He I think he’s cheating on me and I asked him about it and he kept denying it and then he accused me of cheating on him with you” I hiccup out
“I told you he was an ass” Nico says as I flop onto his couch, “but I don’t know.. why would he go through the trouble of proposing then cheating on you?” He reasons
“I just…” I lay down, “why am I so insecure? Why does it always feel that he picks her?” I ask
“Because he does”
I sigh, and roll onto my back, “I want to keep loving him. I want to always love him. But each time I keep getting hurt”
“Maybe you’re not meant to be”
Another tear sheds, “don’t say that Nico”
“Ok” he sighs softly
I spend the weekend there and the door rings and I really don’t want to answer it, “mat” I whisper
“I’m sorry, don’t let this be the end of us. I fucked up and I’m sorry I cheated”
The words barely register in my brain, “so you did cheat”
“I did”
“Leave”
“Y/n”
“Wait-“
“Get the fuck out right now”
“She told you to leave mat”
“Stay out of this Hischier!”
“Get out of my house Barzal”
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dear-bunnyboo · 9 months
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୨⎯ NHL Masterlist ⎯୧
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JACK HUGHES
✿ - fluff || ☁︎ - angst || ❣︎ - smut || ☻ - social media || ✎ - series
ICE ROYALTY || What happens when two of the biggest ice skating royalties meet? ✎
HIS ONLY ANGEL || Jack swore he met an angel the second he laid eyes on his best friend but after years of friendship he realizes he doesn’t know everything about you. ❣︎ ✿
THE ONE* || A very public scandal between your ex boyfriend of three years leads you to meet the one. ✎ (ft. Jack Hughes)
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TREVOR ZEGRAS
✿ - fluff || ☁︎ - angst || ❣︎ - smut || ☻ - social media || ✎ - series
NOBODY GETS ME || You comfort your boyfriend after his outburst for being ejected from his final game of the season. ☁︎ ✿
RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME || Trevor has some terrible news for you leaving you stuck frozen in time. ☁︎
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MAT BARZAL
✿ - fluff || ☁︎ - angst || ❣︎ - smut || ☻ - social media || ✎ - series
DRESS || You have been Mat’s best friend ever since you two were in middle school. What happens when he asks you to come and accompany him to the NHL Awards as his date?— a platonic date of course… right? ✿
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MORE COMING SOON!
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dividers: @cafekitsune
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