#mathew barzal fanfiction | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

miracleonice87 · 10 months

Note

17 w barzy pls! i feel like he only ever gets smut or fluff written w him

from m's midnights prompt list

warnings (cw / tw): miscarriage, pregnancy loss, mourning... this one's a doozy, folks 😔 please don't read if these subjects are triggering or sensitive for you

word count: ~2,100

17. Bigger Than The Whole Sky

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It started as the most typical Isles weekday gameday. Mat woke up an hour before morning skate, kissed your forehead, and rolled out of bed as you snoozed away for just a few more minutes, the early-pregnancy exhaustion hitting you hard the last several weeks. He made himself a coffee, you an Earl Grey, and carried both back to the bedroom where he found you just beginning to stir. You both sipped at your drinks as you went through your morning grooming and threw on athleticwear. Soon, after a playful kiss in the hallway, you were both headed out the door, Mat to the rink and you to the Lees’ to workout with Grace in their home gym.

At least, with the intention to workout with Grace.

Instead, your world as you knew it and your greatest dream came crashing down during the short drive to the Lee house.

What started as light cramping quickly gave way to sharp, stabbing pains that had you doubled over in Grace’s doorway by the time you reached their stately home. She knowingly shuffled you inside, alarm bells blaring in her head even as she used her calmest tone and did everything she could to soothe you. Her babysitter quickly led the girls away from the scene, distracting them with an invitation to play princess dress-up in the toyroom down the hall, away from your intensifying sobs.

As Grace guided you toward her car in the garage, your hands gripping hers with knuckles white as you leaned into her for strength, she noticed a figment of every expectant parent’s worst fear… the seat of your grey leggings stained with an unsettlingly substantial amount of blood.

“Is this it?” you cried. “Is this what it feels like?”

The pit deepened in her gut, her maternal instincts screaming yes.

“I don’t know, sweetheart,” she answered softly. “We’re gonna go find out, okay? Together.”

“A-and Mat…”

“I know. Of course.”

You reached the passenger door, and with one hand Grace opened the adjacent rear door, grabbed one of the girls’ pink travel pillows, and tossed it onto your seat in the hope that it would somehow make you more comfortable on the drive to the hospital. She got you settled into the passenger seat and seconds later, was already rolling down her driveway at a speed faster than she ever hit on a normal day, making an impossible phone call via her hands-free navigation.

At the other end of that call was her sweet husband, who thank god had gotten caught up talking to one of the assistant coaches about gameplans and hadn’t yet stepped onto the ice for morning skate as Mat had minutes ago.

Anders looked at his phone with a furrowed brow and a knot in his stomach… Grace never called him when she knew he was at the rink.

“G? What’s going on?”

That’s when she told him it was you, not herself, who was the reason for the call.

“Shit… is she…”

“I don’t know. She’s in a lot of pain, Anders.” Which he already knew from your muffled sobs on the speakerphone. He’d never heard you cry before. “She’s bleeding. Get Mat off the ice now and tell him to meet us at the hospital.”

“Fuck. Okay. Be careful – I’m-I’m hanging up.”

“Okay. I’ll call you.”

“Yeah.”

Anders tapped the red button and sat in silence at his stall for the briefest of seconds, running a hand through his hair and blowing out a breath through pursed lips, absolutely dreading what he had to do next.

He made his way down the tunnel, stopping at the bench instead of immediately hopping out onto the ice. Lane noticed and caught his eye. Anders closed the short gap between himself and his head coach, ducked his head, and explained the situation as quietly and briefly as he could. Lane’s expression went cold, and he offered a slow, single nod, then cleared his throat.

“I’ll do it if you want me to, but I think you should maybe be the one to…”

Anders cut him off, shaking his head.

“No… no, he should hear it from me.”

Lane set his jaw, clapped the captain’s shoulder, and fixed his gaze back across the ice with a pained exhale.

Anders shuffled to the end of the bench at its opening and waited a few moments for Mat to skate past him on a loop. When he did, he called, “Barz.” Hoarse, somber, short. The younger player immediately skidded to a stop, sending snow flying from beneath his blades.

“What’s up?” he asked, panting.

Anders swallowed, tucking his chin to his chest for a moment.

“Leezy? What’s up?” Mat repeated, brow furrowing.

Anders met Mat’s eyes again and sighed.

“You gotta go to the hospital, bud,” he said softly, unable to keep his voice from shaking. “Grace just called, and-”

Mat didn’t even let Anders finish his thought before he jumped the threshold and ran down the tunnel, shedding his gear as he went, trying to hold it all in his hands and beneath his arms. Anders followed close behind.

“Barzy, bud, are you good to drive?”

Mat nodded furiously without so much as a glance Anders’ way.

“I’ll drive you if you want.”

Mat shook his head.

“You call me if you need anything, you hear me?”

He was nodding again, and simultaneously busting through the doors of the locker room, where he threw all his gear into his bag, pried off his skates, and tugged on his crewneck and sweats in the blink of an eye before heading for the exit with just his keys and his phone… but he stopped in front of his friend before he could make it that far.

Anders could see the red already rimming his eyes, and he felt his own throat constricting as he heard Mat’s breath coming in short, stuttering gasps.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this, man,” Mat managed between breaths.

All Anders could do was grab Mat in a crushing hug, the sounds of him clapping Mat’s back echoing in the empty locker room.

“It never is. I’m sorry.”

No words appear before me in the aftermath

Salt streams out my eyes and into my ears

Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness

'Cause it's all over now, all out to sea…

The ultrasound screen had been turned off for at least half an hour by now, you and Mat left alone by the doctor for nearly as long, but you still lay flat on your back, wet cheek pressed to the ugly pleather exam table, willing the black screen to turn back on and tell you something different than it already had. Willing this nightmare to end, willing yourself to wake up, willing it not to be true, to be some giant, cruel misunderstanding.

No words came to your lips, though thousands of them hummed incessantly between your ears, intrusive thoughts even louder than they’d been all morning in the now-silent room. You heard Mat sniffling behind you, felt his lips kissing the back of your hand every few seconds. Before he’d arrived, you had thought you could not possibly ever feel the sting of devastation more acutely than when the doctor had uttered the words “I’m so sorry; you’re miscarrying.” But good god, the second Mat ran through those sliding glass doors in an utter panic, hair wild no doubt from pulling it throughout the entire drive to the hospital, eyes and nose and cheeks pink from crying, lips parted and shoulders rising and falling as he attempted to catch his breath… you realized how wrong you’d been.

You could handle the pain this would inflict upon you. But seeing Mat suffering just as much… that made you want to crawl in a hole and never see the light of day again. And since that moment, after he’d gathered you in his arms, you’d tried your damndest to avoid making eye contact with him altogether.

He was sad because of you. Mourning because of you. Depressed and angry and sick and childless because of you.

And that was simply too much to bear.

So it was nearly an hour since he’d gotten there and you had yet to look him in the face again. And while looking him in the face was killing you, you not looking him in the face was killing him.

Nobody won in this situation. It was a lose-lose-lose.

“Honey, look at me. Please look at me?” Mat begged from your side.

Unsurprisingly, he was met with silence, and no motion.

“It’s not your fault. Alright? It’s not your fault, babe,” he said firmly, squeezing your hand. “I need you to hear that.”

More silence. It wasn’t even that you wouldn’t speak, it was that you simply couldn’t.

Mat sighed, using his free hand to swipe at the never-ending tears streaming down his cheeks. Then, he trailed his palm along the length of your arm.

“You can be as quiet as you want for as long as you want, baby, because this is an awful fucking thing that’s just happened to us, to you,” he spoke, voice wavering. “But I’m gonna keep talking because I’ve gotta make sure you know that this isn’t because of anything you did, or didn’t do. Like the doctor said, these things happen for reasons we’ll never know. And I’m not upset with you. I’m not mad at you. I could never be mad at you. I love you.”

You closed your eyes, swearing your eyelids were suddenly outfitted with weights. It was all sinking in… the reality of it, the heaviness, the emptiness. You just wanted to sleep.

You finally opened your mouth, feeling how dry and cotton it had become. You didn’t have the strength to debate him on why this had happened, how it had to be your fault somehow, but you mustered enough to give him what you knew he needed.

“I love you,” you whispered, unnerved by how weak and small your own voice sounded in the sterile room.

Behind you, you heard Mat rise up from the uncomfortable vinyl chair. He bent over you, pushing some hair back from your damp face, and pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, relieved and grateful to have gotten any response, any sign of human function, from you at all. Then, he patted your shoulder and said the very thing you’d been dreading.

“Come on… let’s go home.”

Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye

You were bigger than the whole sky

You were more than just a short time…

Mat didn’t know how he’d found himself in the nursery or how long he'd been there, but after laying with you in your bed and softly stroking your hair as you finally fell into a much-needed slumber, that’s where his aimless wandering had eventually led. He didn’t bother to turn on the light; the afternoon sun streaming through the still untreated windows cast a golden glow on everything in the room.

It had once felt so cozy, a representation of all that the two of you had to look forward to in the weeks and months to come. He loved sitting in the room all alone when he arrived home from a road trip, late at night when you were already sound asleep, dreaming about who your baby would look like, what they would sound like, who they would someday grow to be.

With you losing your pregnancy so soon into it, the material items in the room were still few. As he ran his fingertips along the covers of the gifted copies of “Goodnight, Moon,” “On The Night You Were Born,” and “Love You Forever,” and over the stuffed Sparky the Dragon next to them on the shelf, his eyes filled with fresh tears, realizing that he would never get to snuggle his first baby earthside, read to them with Sparky tucked in their lap. He leaned wearily against the railing of the crib he had just put together mere days ago, and as he looked toward the tiny “13” jersey laying on the still plastic-wrapped mattress, a sob escaped his throat and he let himself fall completely apart for the very first time, without needing to remind himself to hold it together in your presence. He turned and sunk down to the floor, leaning against the solid oak frame of the crib, and buried his head in his hands, crying as he never had in all his life.

Eventually, there would be conversations about the next steps to take for your health, whether or not to try again, and when, and whether to leave the nursery as it was or pack it up until, hopefully, you were pregnant once more. But for now, there was just sheer sadness as you and Mat grieved the little one that just wasn’t to be.

And I've got a lot to pine about

I've got a lot to live without

I'm never gonna meet

What could've been, would've been

What should've been you…

#m's midnights prompt list #my writing #mathew barzal #mat barzal #tw miscarriage #cw miscarriage #mathew barzal fic #mathew barzal fanfic #mathew barzal fanfiction #mat barzal fic #mat barzal fanfic #mat barzal fanfiction

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adorethedistance · 1 year

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Black and White - Mat Barzal x Reader

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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hockey-fics · 10 months

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Missing Piece ~ Mathew Barzal

Summary: You’re supposed to move on from your first love, but six years later you’re still struggling with it. And maybe you aren’t the only one.

Warnings: Drinking

Word Count: ~4,700

Love isn’t easy or simple. Love is complicated and sometimes messy. Love can bring out the best in you but it can also bring out the worst. It forces you to deal with issues you didn’t want to deal with, issues you maybe didn’t even know you had. Jealousy, insecurity, distrust.

Your first love was even more intricate. It’s the first time you feel that true commitment to a person when you know you would do anything and everything for them. The first time you give yourself over to someone completely, give them the power to break your heart into a million pieces. The first time you found your person. The person you don’t want to be without, the person you feel safe and comfortable with. The person who brings out the best parts of you and the person who will be by your side at your worst.

But not every love story has a happy ending.

Your first love started in middle school. Mathew asked you to go with him to the seventh-grade dance. Of course, you said yes. You were 12 and you were ecstatic that your crush had asked you to the dance.

At 13 you had your first kiss. It was on the playground at the park down the road from your house. You had gone there with Mathew after school one Tuesday in October. It was awkward and strange but you loved every second of it.

At 14 Mathew asked you officially to be his girlfriend. You said yes without a second of hesitation. He took you to a movie that Friday. Or rather, your parents drove you to the movie theatre, where you met up with Mat and he bought you a ticket and popcorn. You held hands throughout the movie and didn’t pay attention for even a second. You spent the length of the movie worried about if you were holding his hand too hard or not hard enough or if your hand was too clammy or stiff.

At 16 Mathew moved away and you didn’t know how to handle it. But you loved Mat as much as you could have at that time so you navigated a long-distance relationship as best you could at that age. He was only a few hours away and between weekend trips and summers together you managed the relationship rather well.

At 21 things changed. Mat moved thousands of kilometres away and your ability to navigate long-distance deteriorated quickly. There was a three-hour time difference. Weekend trips to see each other nearly ceased entirely. You would go days with nothing more than a few texts here and there. By the time you were done with your day and had time to call Mathew, he would be heading to bed. When he had time to talk in the morning you were still asleep.

So you broke up. It was mutual, at least that’s what you told everyone. It was you who had brought up the idea. Mat argued against it, promised to try harder, find more time to talk and see each other. But you knew it wasn’t realistic. You hadn’t drifted apart due to a lack of effort. It wasn’t extra effort that would bring you together.

You were devastated. Beyond devastated. You were a mess for long enough that you had grown embarrassed over the number of tears you had shed, the number of nights you had spent curled up in bed, and the social plans you had cancelled to stay in and wallow in your sadness.

Eventually, you pulled yourself together enough to patch your life back up. You finished your last few years of university. You started going on dates again, even though none of them ever compared to being with Mat. You did your best to put that part of your life behind you.

But you were supposed to move on entirely from your first love. You knew that. You knew with time you were supposed to stop thinking about it, about him. You were supposed to go weeks, or months, without thinking back to the days of your first love.

You weren’t supposed to long to have that person, that feeling, back in your life. You weren’t supposed to flash back to vivid memories of the past, of memories from when you were still wrapped up in that love.

You thought the hole he had left in your life when the two of you broke up would eventually be filled. With friends and hobbies, school and a career. But no matter how busy you kept yourself, no matter how hard you tried to fill that hole, it always seemed to be there.

December 22, 2022

You’re sitting in the driveway, Budget rental car idling in the cold winter night. December 22nd. You were back at your childhood home for Christmas. You should be happy. But every time you came home there was a feeling of nostalgia that didn’t fill you with warmth or happiness, it felt sad and bitter.

“Are we going to go in?”

Whipping your head to the right with a sharp inhale your eyes focus on Ben. Ben. You two had only been together for four months. It felt far too early for him to be joining your family for Christmas but when he asked to come you didn’t really know how to say no. So here you were, with your practically brand new boyfriend, sitting in the driveway of your childhood family home thinking about all the times you had been in that exact place with Mat.

“Oh, um, yeah,” you mutter, turning the car off before climbing out into the cold night. Dragging your suitcases up to the front door you head in, your parents at the front door only a few seconds later.

“Hi hunny,” your mom greets, throwing her arms around you.

“Hey, mom.” Pulling back you look over at Ben. “This is Ben,” you tell her, your apprehension clear in your voice.

“Hi Ben, it’s lovely to meet you.” She pulls him in for a hug, their bodies rigid and tense. “How was the flight?”

“Pretty good,” you tell her with a shrug. “Nothing crazy happened so I guess I can’t complain.”

“Well, dinner is almost ready, the bed is made upstairs,” your mom says, eyes flicking back and forth from you to Ben and back to you.

You wanted the night to go well, you really did. You wanted Ben to fit in like a missing piece in your family. But it didn’t and he didn’t fit. It was awkward and uncomfortable. After dinner you cleaned the kitchen with your mom while Ben sat in the living room with your dad and the house was so quiet you could hear their conversation, or rather, their lack of conversation altogether.

You lay awake in bed that night till Ben falls asleep, till the house is dark and quiet. Slipping out of your room and down the stairs you head out to the car in the driveway. You weren’t even sure where you were going, or what you were planning on doing. But you needed to get out of your head and you hoped that getting out of the house might make that happen.

Eventually, you find yourself in front of the 24-hour convenience store you used to frequent for late-night snacks and drinks. The year they began selling wine and beer only increased the frequency of trips, youthful giggling as you played a game of ‘who looks the oldest’ in someone's beat-up Honda Civic in the parking lot of the convenience store.

Sighing you climb out of the car, heading into the store. The lights are fluorescent and bright, too bright. The store is empty aside from the man sitting behind the counter, barely even looking up from his phone when you entered the building. Strolling down the aisles you let your eyes scan the shelves of chips and candy, overpriced loaves of Wonder bread and tiny jars of peanut butter.

The bell above the door jingles but it barely registers for you, your mind racing with thoughts, with memories.

“Your parents still don’t keep junk food in the house?”

Twirling around your eyes land on the last person you expected to find in that convenience store at 12:30am. If you had you sure as hell wouldn’t have been there in sweatpants and a hoodie so old you were fairly sure he had seen you in when you were still a teenager. “Mat,” you whisper. “You’re back in town early.”

“Yeah, we got lucky this year, had a game yesterday and I flew back this afternoon,” Mat explains. “When’d you get here?”

“This afternoon.” You’re fidgeting with the strings on your hoodie, staring over at him. “How’ve you been?”

“Not bad. How are you? Happy to be home?”

“Uh,” you mutter, inhaling deeply. “Yeah, I guess as happy to be home as I can be if I’m using this place as an excuse to get out of the house.”

“That bad, hey?” Mat chuckles.

“I mean, it could be better. But more importantly, what is hockey superstar Mathew Barzal doing at the 24-hour Stop and Shop in the middle of the night?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

Your eyes fall to the bag of chips he was holding, looking back up at him with a teasing smile. “And you thought a bag of Lays salt and vinegar chips would fix that?”

“Probably not.” Matt shrugs, laughing under his breath. Reaching over he picks up a bottle of wine sitting on the shelf across from where you were standing. “This might though.”

“Oh no, it’s sad enough to be back in this place, don’t make it worse by drinking alone.”

Mat chuckles, reaching over for a second bottle, and thrusting it into your empty hands. “So don’t let me drink alone.”

You knew you should say no. There were a million and one reasons why you should say no. You had broken up over 6 years ago. It took you years to move on and you weren’t sure even now you really were. You had a boyfriend now. You had a boyfriend now who was asleep in your family’s home.

“Alright,” you state, nodding in agreement, despite your mind screaming at you to say no, to put the wine away.

So the two of you take the bottles of wine and Mat’s bag of salt and vinegar chips to the counter and you let him pay for all of it despite your objection. Outside you climb into your car, agreeing to meet Mat at his house. It seemed safer to go there, your own house seemed off the table with Ben asleep in your parent’s guest room.

When you pull into the driveway Mat is waiting outside for you, the bottles of wine tucked under one arm. Following him inside the two of you sneak down to the finished basement that had been a common hangout during your childhood and teenage years.

Once you’re settled on the couch in the basement with a glass of wine in your hand you turn your focus back to Mat. “How have things been? It’s been a while since we talked.”

“It has,” Matt agrees, taking a sip of the white wine in his glass. “I’ve been pretty good, I guess. Kinda just the same.”

“I don’t think you get to make your life seem so boring,” you tease. “I’m glad you’ve been doing well though. Still enjoying New York?”

“Yeah, I mean, it’s starting to feel like it’s home more than here now, you know?”

Nodding slowly you take a sip of your wine, staring down into it for a few seconds. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Are you still living out here? You graduated, right?”

“Yeah, I finished my degree a couple years ago,” you tell him with a soft smile. You were still following each other on social media and you were sure that had to be how he knew that. “I moved out to Toronto after graduating.”

“Toronto?” Mat shifts slightly in his seat, taking another gulp of the sickly sweet, cheap wine. “That’s a big move.”

“I didn’t want to stay out here forever, wanted to see a new place for a while.”

“How are you liking it out there?”

Sighing quietly you give him a little shrug. “It’s been okay, it was hard for a while to not know anyone out there. But I’m slowly settling in, meeting new people.”

“You don’t sound like you like it that much.”

Laughing softly you take another drink, finishing off your first glass of wine. “I do,” you insist, reaching over and pouring yourself another glass of wine. You knew the only reason you were hesitating about it was because you were sitting here with Mat now and it made Toronto feel distant and cold.

As your conversation grows less intense with each glass of wine you find yourself loosening up, laughing and joking with Mat like the two of you hadn’t spent the last six years apart. You weren’t even paying attention to the time, had stopped worrying about Ben waking up and finding your side of the bed empty. Nothing else seemed to matter while you were sitting there with Mat.

“Any new women in your life?” you ask, the wine blurring your inhibitions, no longer worrying if that question would come across as strange and jealous.

Mat chuckles, shaking his head. “No, hasn’t really been for awhile. What about you?”

“No, I’m still mostly just interested in men.”

“Very funny,” Mat laughs, waiting for you to go on regardless of your attempt to deflect the question away from you.

“Um,” you hum, taking another large drink from your glass. “Yeah, I, um, I’m seeing someone.”

Mat falls silent, nodding slowly as he looks across the room, not making eye contact for a few minutes. “Oh, um, congratulations.”

Laughing sarcastically you set your glass down, nervously running your clammy hands over your thighs. You didn’t want that fact to change Mat’s perspective of you. You didn’t want him to push you away because of that. “We haven’t been together long,” you inform him. “I don’t know if we’re going to be.”

“Why’s that?”

“I just feel like we should still be in a honeymoon phase of our relationship but it’s already really hard. And he doesn’t fit in with my family, which isn’t a dealbreaker but it’s not ideal, you know?”

“He’s met your family?” Mat mumbles.

Your heart was hammering in your chest now, not wanting to admit what you were about to say. But you couldn’t lie to him. “He’s here with me for Christmas.”

“I thought…didn’t you say you haven’t been together long?” Mat asks, his voice quiet and deflated.

You can’t help but laugh at that, it was a very fair question to ask and you were a little embarrassed to admit that it was and he was still here regardless. “We haven’t, it’s been like four months. He asked to come out here with me for Christmas and I didn’t know how to say no.”

Mat’s deflated expression is broken by a breath of laughter. “You couldn’t say no? You didn’t want him to come?”

“No,” you exclaim, shaking your head. “I really didn’t.”

“Do you even like this guy?”

Glancing around the room you let out a loud breath. “I don’t know, Mat,” you admit. “I’ve been trying. I did in the beginning but now I think I’m just trying to force it to work.”

“Doesn’t sound great for four months in,” Mat points out. “Did you also not know how to say no to me all those times I came over for Christmas with your family?” Mat jokes.

“You know I wanted you there,” you tell him with a soft smile. “I always wanted you around.”

“So why didn’t you want him to come?” Mat asks, seemingly looking for a specific answer though you weren’t sure what it was.

“Because I don’t love him,” you say simply. “And I love you.”

The room falls silent as the two of you realize what you had just said, your face flushing hot and your heart hammering hard. “I loved you,” you correct, a blatant lie but you couldn’t admit that somewhere deep inside you were still in love with Mat.

“I should probably head home,” you say suddenly, getting to your feet and pulling your phone out to get an Uber or taxi or any other way you could figure out to get out of there.

“Woah, hey, are you okay?” Mat asks, getting up and stepping over to you, his hand on your lower back. His touch was gentle and hesitant like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to do it.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine,” you whisper, your hands shaking slightly as you open your Uber app.

“Look at me.” Mat places his hands on your arms, turning you to face him. “I know what you meant, you don’t have to run away.”

“What did I mean, Mat?” you whisper, looking up into his eyes.

“That we loved each other when I was coming to your house for Christmas.”

You hesitate, knowing you should just leave it at that. But you couldn’t, shaking your head slightly. “I think I might still be in love with you.”

Mat stares down at you for a few seconds, uncertainty clear on his face. Before you have the chance to say or do anything he’s pulling you closer, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours.

“Mat,” you whisper, pulling back the second his lips touch yours. “I can’t do this right now.”

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, stepping back quickly, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. “Fuck, I’m sorry, you’re in a relationship, I shouldn’t have…I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” you assure him. “I should probably go home though.”

Mat nods, walking you up to the door once your Uber was on the way. He stands in the entryway, shoulder against the wall as he watches you pull your shoes on.

“Wait,” he says as you stand up, moving towards the door. Turning back to face him you wait for him to go on. “I still love you too.”

You’re frozen in place, speechless for too long. “I’ll talk to you later,” you finally say, slipping out of the front door and hurrying down to the Uber idling at the bottom of the driveway. The ride is quiet and you’re glad your driver was refraining from a conversation, giving you time to think over the events of the night.

When you get back home you sneak in as quietly as you can to avoid waking anyone up. But by the time you get into your room, you realize you didn’t need to be so worried, finding Ben wide awake.

“Where were you?”

Sighing you tug your hoodie off, tossing it onto the chair in the corner of the room. “I just went to see a friend.”

“You snuck out in the middle of the night to go visit a friend?” Ben presses, clearly and rightfully suspicious.

“I couldn’t sleep and I didn’t want to wake you up,” you explain, only partly lying.

“Who were you with?”

“Why are you interrogating me right now?” you snap, arms folding over your chest.

“Because you fucking snuck out to go see someone in the middle of the night and you’re obviously drunk, I think I deserve to know where you were and who you were with.”

“I was with Mat,” you snap. “I ran into him in the store and went back to his place to catch up. It’s not a big deal now can you just go back to sleep.”

“Your ex Mat?” Ben mutters.

“Yes,” you whisper, glancing down at the ground.

“Did you sleep with him?”

“Oh my god,” you groan, shaking your head. “No, I didn’t do anything with him. We hung out and had some wine.”

“That’s bullshit,” Ben declares. “Tell me the truth.”

“I just did,” you mutter, though it wasn’t exactly the truth.

“I don’t believe you.”

You take a deep breath, glancing up at the ceiling before looking back over at him. “You want to know the fucking truth? I’m still in love with him. Yeah, he tried to kiss me but I stopped it. I don’t know what you want from me, Ben, but whatever it is I really don’t think that I can give it to you.”

“I should never have come here,” Ben states, his voice cold and harsh.

Laughing sarcastically you lean against the dresser behind you, putting even more distance between you and him. “No, you shouldn’t have. I didn’t even fucking want you to, I don’t know why you would even ask. We’ve been together for like four months.”

You knew you were being harsh, you knew you were in the wrong. But the culmination of everything from the last 12 hours was spewing out of you with visceral anger. You didn’t want him there, your family barely wanted him there, he had already made your first dinner with your family weird and uncomfortable and you couldn’t help but put all of that on him.

Ben nods, walking across the room to begin reorganizing his suitcase. “Well, I’ll be out of here tomorrow so I don’t ruin your Christmas or get in the way of you and your ex.”

Sighing you walk to the edge of the bed, sitting down and watching him for a few minutes.

“You had to know this wasn’t going to work out, Ben,” you finally say, voice quiet and soft now.

“Actually I didn’t,” Ben snaps, turning around to look at you. “I actually have feelings for you and it doesn’t feel great to know you were in love with your ex this entire time.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, looking down at the ground. “I know it doesn’t make it better but I really didn’t plan or expect to see him, now or ever.”

“It really doesn’t, but thanks,” Ben mutters, walking back to the bed to sit back down. Pulling his phone out the two of you fall into an uncomfortable silence while he finds the next available flight back to Toronto.

Eventually, you decide to get some sleep, the sky already bright outside. The next time you wake up Ben was already gone and you weren’t sure if you were relieved by that or if you felt you should have said a more concrete goodbye.

Downstairs you find your parents in the living room, curling up on the end of the couch, waiting for someone else to say something first.

“I’m sorry,” your mom finally says and you look over at her with furrowed eyebrows.

“Sorry?” you ask.

“You and Ben, I’m sorry you two broke up.”

“Oh,” you mumble, shrugging. “It’s, um, not a big deal.”

“You went and saw Mathew?” your mom asks.

“He told you that?” you ask in disbelief. “I didn’t go see him, I couldn’t sleep so I went for a drive and stopped at the convenience store for a snack and I ran into him. He wanted to catch up so I went over to his place, it’s not like I planned to see him.”

Your mom nods, clearly unsure about your words. But your mom also loved Mat and you knew that even if you had specifically gone to see him she probably wouldn’t have been that upset about it. “Well as long as you’re okay then I’ll be honest and I think it’s for the best. You didn’t seem happy with him.”

Sighing you turn your attention to the Christmas Hallmark movie that was playing on the TV. “Yeah,” you whisper, knowing she was right.

You spend the rest of the day with your parents, watching Christmas movies and eating so many snacks you didn’t even need to think about cooking a single meal that day.

Most of Christmas Eve had slipped by quickly but you couldn’t keep your mind off of Mat. Couldn’t stop thinking about the night you spent together. He had told you that he loved you and you had left without saying anything else. You left that night with him thinking you were staying in a relationship with Ben.

After dinner you pick up your keys and purse, telling your parents you would be home soon. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe everything you had done since being home had been a mistake. But you don’t stop, you don’t turn around, you keep driving till you’re sitting in the driveway of Mat’s childhood home.

The driveway is slippery with freshly fallen snow, the air sharp against your skin. When you get to the front door you consider turning around and heading home, pretending you had never driven across town for this. But you knock on the door before you can talk yourself out of it.

When the door is pulled open you’re hit with a gust of warm air, tinged with the scent of Christmas baking. Your eyes focus on Mat, standing in front of you in a hoodie and sweats, hair a mess, surprise written on his face. “Hey,” he breathes out, one hand still on the door.

Stepping closer you lean up, hands on either side of his face as you press your lips against his. It’s filled with emotion and all the words you didn’t know how to say. His arms are around your body, tugging you into the house and fumbling the door closed behind you without so much as pulling back for a second. Your hands move down, one tangled in his hair, the other grasping at his hoodie like you were scared that he would be gone again if you were to let go.

When you finally pull back you leave one hand grasping his hoodie, the other falling to rest on his chest. “Hi,” you whisper.

“Hi,” Matt replies, his hands on your waist. “What-.”

“I broke up with him,” you interrupt, wanting to get any thoughts that you might be cheating on your partner out of Mat’s head. “Or I guess we broke up, he found out about the other night and wasn’t happy.”

Mat nods slowly, waiting for you to go on. But you didn’t know what else to say. You didn’t even know why you were there.

“Do you want to come in for a bit?” Mat suggests, pushing your jacket down your arms, and hanging it on one of the hooks by the door.

“Okay,” you agree, letting him take your hand and pull you up into his room. The same room you had snuck into many times before, but back then it was because you were teenagers and spending time alone behind a closed door was strictly off-limits. “Straight to the bedroom, hey?”

Mat chuckles shutting the door behind the two of you before making his way to sit on the edge of the bed. “Just figured you wouldn’t want to have whatever conversation we’re about to have in the living room with my family.”

“You’re right about that,” you comment, walking over and lifting one knee onto the edge of the bed, sitting next to him, your body turned to face him. “So,” you whisper, hoping he would take the reins on the conversation.

“I want to try again,” Mat blurts, not turning his head to look at you as he says it.

“Try what again?”

“Being together. We live closer now and I still love you six years later, I think…I think I want us to try and make it work again.”

You’re stunned by his words, staring at him speechlessly. It’s not that you hadn’t thought about it. Not only had you thought about it before this trip home but you had thought about it every moment since you saw Mat in the convenience store.

“Is that a no?” Mat mutters.

“No, uh,” you begin nervously, shaking your head. “No, it’s not. I mean, yes…yes, I want that.”

Mat pulls you closer, kissing you again, gently, passionately. “I love you,” Mat whispers against your lips.

And you whispered it right back to him, contentment deep in your soul. Finally, the piece in the puzzle that had been missing for so long seemed to be back in place.

#mathew barzal #Mathew Barzal fic #mathew barzal fanfic #mathew barzal imagine #mathew barzal one shot #nhl fanfiction #nhl one shot #nhl fic #nhl fanfic #nhl imagines #mathew barzal fanfiction #Hockey Fanfiction #hockey fanfic #hockey fic #hockey imagines

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islesnucks · 2 months

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𝓿𝓸𝓲𝓬𝓮𝓶𝓪𝓲𝓵 - Mathew Barzal x Reader

Summary: what started as an accidentall voicemial to your ex boyfriend ended up becoming routine and maybe even more TW: none that i can think of

Word count: 3.9k A/N: completely made up game schedule btw

Masterlist Add yoruself to the taglist if you wanna be notified when i post the fic!

“Hey, it’s Mat.” His voice echoed through the phone, so familiar yet strangely distant now. You’d heard him speak in interviews, but this was different. He was addressing you, or at least the voicemail version of you. “I can’t answer right now, so you know what to do.”

You didn’t know what to do. Calling your ex-boyfriend, the one you had broken up with months ago, wasn’t something you had exactly planned. Yet, when the acceptance email for the program you had worked tirelessly for arrived, the one he had witnessed you pour your heart into, he was the person you wanted to share it with. So that’s what you were doing, trying no to overthink it before nerves got the best of you.

“Mat, hi. This is so random—H-how are you?” Thank God he didn’t answer, you were a stuttering mess leaving a voicemail imagine if it had been him on the other end instead. “I got in! Into the program I mean. I don’t know why, but I wanted to tell you. You helped me so much before—” you cut yourself again. It didn’t feel right to mention the break up like that, but what could you say? Before I broke up with you? Before I stumbled out of your apartment leaving you behind without an explanation?

“Fuck it. I can’t do this.” You pulled your phone away from your ear and touched the red dot.

That’s it. He didn’t need to know, he probably wouldn’t even care. Who would want their ex to call to tell them they were doing great? That maybe after all the breakup was worth it because they had gotten into the program they had neglected their relationship for? Too long, right?

A second later, realization struck like lightning – you had ended the call before deleting the voicemail. It had been sent.

“Oh no, no, no!” you exclaimed, eyes widening in horror. There was no turning back. Mat would undoubtedly hear you stumbling over your words. Why couldn’t you have just left well enough alone? The last thing he needed was you barging back into his life with a pathetic voicemail about something he likely moved on from. ‘He probably already despises me after how everything unfolded, and now this’ you thought.

You were wrong, because no longer than 5 minutes after everything had gone down your phone was buzzing in your hand, Mat’s contact bright in the center as he now waited for you to pick up for a change.

“Mat.” you picked up.

“Hey. You called me?” He sounded confused, for very obvious reasons. Nevertheless it was nice to hear his voice now directed at you.

“Yeah, right. I left you a voicemail.” You rolled your eyes. At least you sounded less nervous than earlier on the voicemail, but it was not less embarrassing.

Mat’s voice came through, cool and collected. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t check. I just saw the missed call and, you know.”

“Sure, sure.” you replied, trying to sound half as calm as he seemed to be with the whole situation.

“Do you want me to hear it or …” his offer hovered in the air.

“No! I mean, I can tell you.” You cringed at the thought of him hearing your rambling voicemail. “So, I called because I just got the mail. I got into the program!”

“Shut up! That’s great! Congratulations!” Mat’s excitement burst through the line. Your heart melted a little. After everything that had happened he sounded genuinely happy for you.

“Thank you, Maty.”

Mat’s tone softened. “You deserve it, after all the hard work you put into it. I knew you’d get it.”

You chuckled, the tension easing. “I know, I know. You told me like a million times. I was just insecure.”

For a second you let yourself imagine this was under other circumstances. You were still together and he was calling you right after practice or from another city in one of his roadies. He’d come back home eventually and hug you so tight you wouldn’t be able to breath, probably lift you up and spin you around a little. You wouldn’t be able to stop laughing and-

“I know …” Mat’s response brought you back to reality. The reality in which he wouldn’t knock on your door with his arms wide open.

His tone carried an easy understanding. He definitely knew about your insecurities. They played a huge role on why your relationship was the way it was right now: nonexistent.

“So that’s what the voicemail said?” He broke the silence.

“Yeah, basically. But you know, all giddy and stuff. Really embarrassing.”

Mat’s laughter grew louder, and you could practically see him shaking his head. “Oh, really? Well, now I have to hear it.”

“No, no, no.” you protested, your embarrassment deepening. “Seriously, don’t Barzal. I know where you live.”

But Mat insisted, his curiosity piqued. “Come on! Embrace the cringe. It can’t be that bad.”

He ended the call before you could object anymore, only to call you back a minute later. Mat’s laughter erupted again as soon as you picked up, and you couldn’t help but join in, the shared humor dissipating the lingering awkwardness. If you closed your eyes you could almost picture him with that scrunched up nose as he laughed.

“The ‘fuck it, i can’t do this’ was the best part by far.”

The familiar buzz of the MSG postgame show filled the cozy confines of your living room as Mat’s name flashed brightly on your phone, catching you off guard. Shannon and Hickey were in full praise mode, replaying Mat’s epic goal on loop, and there he was, the main attraction, waiting on the other end of the line for you to pick up.

You fumbled for your phone, a grin tugging at the corners of your lips as you swiped to answer. “Hey, I didn’t expect your call.” you remarked, the commentator’s voices still ringing in your ears.

“Bad timing?” Mat’s voice crackled through the phone, a hint of breathlessness underscoring his words – probably still riding the adrenaline high from the ice.

“No, no. It’s just that a second ago you were on my screen falling all over the ice.” you teased, imagining his less-than-graceful moments on the rink.

“I don’t fall that much!” he argued, sounding mildly offended.

“You do, but you also score, so it’s forgiven. Congrats on your almost hatty, by the way.” You chuckled, knowing how much he loathed falling a goal short. Always so hard on himself.

Mat scoffed, clearly annoyed at missing the mark. “So, you watched tonight?”

“Obviously, I watch every game I can catch.” you replied, the excitement of the game still coursing through your veins. The thrill of watching Mat succeed, even from a distance, even after all that happened, was undeniable.

“You should come, you know. I’m sure the girls would love to see you.” Mat suggested, his voice tinged with a hint of longing.

“I don’t know, Mat. It’s not my place anymore.” you hesitated, letting the uncertainty hang in the air. You had to change the subject before your mind started spiraling. “Anyway, why did you call?”

“Oh, right. I listened to your voicemail again!”

“So you called to tell me you haven’t actually deleted it like you promised?”

“I heard it right before the game and got 2 goals and 2 assists. I think it’ll become my new pregame ritual, honestly.” Mat admitted, his voice softer now, laced with a hint of nostalgia. Why had he chosen to hear it? That’s something he would save for himself for now. The shared memories of your past flitted between you, unspoken but palpable.

“Really? Want me to send embarrassing voicemails before every game?”

“I’d love it. Yes, please.” Mat replied with a laugh, the warmth of his laughter washing over you like a comforting embrace. The playful banter held a certain intimacy, a bridge between past flames and the uncharted territory of what lay ahead.

The banter flowed seamlessly, a blend of shared history and the current moment. The familiarity was comforting, but the unspoken complexities of your past lingered in the air, a delicate tension.

NYI vs. TBL - November 5th

“Hey, Barzy. I don’t know if you were joking or not but here’s your pregame embarrassing voicemail as solicited. You weren’t serious, right? Well fuck it, enjoy it or ignore me whatever.”

NYI vs. CGY - November 7th

“Just walked past that coffee shop where we had our third or fourth date I think. Remember how you choked over your latte when I lied and said I loved the Rangers?”

NYI vs. SEA - November 9th

“Hey, you won’t believe who I just saw. That guy that lives in the building across the street, the one that has your face tattooed on his left arm. He asked about you, told me to wish you good luck. So good luck from him … and from me. Good luck tonight.”

NYI vs. VAN - November 11th

“Hi! Your sister told me your family is going tonight, so send them a kiss from me, ok? … I-I keep in touch with her, I don’t know if you knew that or like maybe I should’ve told you? Are you ok with that? I’m sorry I just assumed you would be. Anyway, good luck! Say hi from me! Or don’t if you don’t want to-”

NYI vs. NYR - November 16th

“Dude. Rangers tonight. Don’t mess it up. May have bet on you guys with a guy from work, I don’t wanna have to pay for his lunch tomorrow. Please. Good luck, 13.”

NYI vs. PIT - November 18th

“Shit, shit, shit. Hope you can hear this before the game. I’m still getting used to the program’s schedule and all of that, I’m kind of a mess right now. Anyway, good luck!”

NYI vs. DET - November 20th

“Maty, hi! I know this is kind of dumb because I saw you like 10 minutes ago and I’m in the building but still thought I should leave the voicemail just in case. (Come on!) Ok I have to go, Sydney has a tone of gossip to catch me up on. Good luck!”

NYI vs. DAL - November 23th

“Hello Mr Barzal, I won’t be able to watch tonight, but still good luck! Even if you don’t win, I hope you score a goal, make an assist. That 8 game point streak you have going on is insane. I think I’ll start charging you for this if they are working so well.Good luck Barzy!”

NYI vs. STL - November 26th

“Hey! First of all, good luck! Second, I left my scarf at the Lee’s last night. It’s red, I was wearing it when you picked me up. Grace said Anders would give it to you tonight. Maybe we can meet for coffee tomorrow so you can give it back? Anyway, good luck!”

NYI vs. CHI - November 28th

“13, hello! I don’t have anything funny to tell you today so just good luck! Love you- shit, sorry. Habit I guess. Bye.”

NYI vs. NYR - November 30th

“You have zero new voicemails. To record a new personal greeting press one-”

You tried everything to get your mind off it, but it wasn’t working. The cup of tea was now cold in your hand and you couldn’t even pretend to care what was going on in the movie you had playing on your tv. The game had ended an hour ago but it was on replay in your mind.

It was silly to think it was your fault. You couldn’t influence the score of the match, the 5-1 loss against the Rangers wasn’t on you. However the outcome would’ve been different if their starplayer hadn’t been taking stupid penalties, losing the puck, causing turnovers. That could be on you partially.

The bell ringing caught you by surprise, almost dropping the cold tea. You got up to answer, even though you had a feeling you knew who was waiting by your building’s door.

“Hello?”

“It’s me.” The familiar voice needed no introduction.

“Mat? What are you doing here?”

“Buzz me in.” he requests, and you could practically hear the determination in his tone. With a resigned sigh, you pressed the buzzer, knowing full well he wouldn’t leave until he got what he came for.

A few moments later, a knock sounded at the door, and you found yourself face to face with him. Determination was bright in his eyes, your heart started racing.

“What’s going on?” He rolled his eyes, clearly not impressed by your attempt at pretending not to know why he’s there.

“You didn’t leave a voicemail.” Mat strided in without waiting for an invitation, and the unspoken tension was palpable.

“Right, that. I guess I forgot. Sorry.” you lied, trying to sound convincing but knowing there’s no use, he’d know. You closed the door behind him almost instinctively, as if shutting out the forthcoming emotional storm that’s about to break in your apartment.

“You’ve been sending me a voicemail before every single game for the past month.” he remarked, his gaze keenly picking up on your avoidance. Frustration started to take over. He already had been in this position before, begging you for explanations and all you did was look away. “Please, don’t shut me out. Not again.”

“I got confused, okay? Why are we doing this? I’m your ex-girlfriend, I broke up with you, Mat. And now I’m going to your games and sending you voicemails every game? What even is this?”

At some point you started walking all over the living room, the distress was clear. Mat was better at hiding it, he stood still by the door like he had been since he walked in, but you could see his hands fidgeting. Neither of you had a clear head to take on what was about to come, chaos was inevitable.

“I don’t know, but I thought you liked this. I thought it was like an inside joke, our own thing.”

“It was that. But you’re not supposed to have that with your ex.” you said, trying to emphasize the last word for him, as if a reminder of your status would help the situation in any way.

“We’re friends?” He furrowed his brows, and, had it not been for the situation you were in, you would’ve laughed at the way even he sounded so unsure of what he was saying.

“Mat, come on. It’s confusing, I know I was getting confused. It started with the voicemails, which was already something, but then we’re talking every day, I’m going to your games again and team’s gatherings, we’re hanging out again. I said ‘I love you’ on my last one!” You finally looked at him, baring it all. There was only one solution in your mind and it had to be taken no matter the pain it would undoubtedly cost you. “I think it’s better if we stop.”

There was a moment of silence, he looked at you as if trying to read through the wall you were hiding behind. Trying to decipher if it was you speaking or your insecurities had taken over again. Most importantly, trying to figure out if this time he had what it took to get to you before he lost you.

“I don’t want it to stop.” he said, determination clear in his voice. In a second he closed the gap between you. The proximity caught you off guard, you couldn’t remember the last time you were this close. “Tell me you don’t feel anything.” It sounded almost like a beg, but he didn’t care.

“We broke up.” you insisted, trying to sound all resolute.

“You broke up with me.” he corrected you, his gaze holding steady, slicing through your defenses.

“We weren’t working, Mat! We could barely see each other, and when we did, we were too tired or stressed. We fought a lot. We broke up.” It sounded almost childish the way you stubbornly persisted on it, like you needed to reassure yourself more than him how things had played out last time.

“Couples fight sometimes; it’s normal. I was stressed about the playoffs, and you were stressed about getting into the program. It was a bad moment, yes, but that’s over.”

“Other problems are gonna come up.”

“We can face them together, we fight and make up. That’s it, that’s how couples work.”

You paused for a second, it made no sense to keep on repeating yourself. It seemed like he had a solution for every obstacle you presented. He had come here for answers, it was time to give them to him even if you were answering older already forgotten questions.

“I was scared, Mat. I was scared and insecure, and it felt like I was ruining it all.” Tears start rolling down your face and there’s nothing he wants more than to hug you, keep you close to his chest, push the pain away; but he knows he shouldn’t. You’re finally letting down your guard, telling him what he’s been dying to hear for months; he has to give you space to be vulnerable. “I thought it was better to break things up before they got really nasty.” your voice wobbled.

“I get it, I really do. But you could’ve told me and I should’ve been more present, not left you alone to deal with our problems. We could’ve tried to make it work. ” He looked deep into your eyes, his own reflecting a mix of understanding and unwavering love. “I know I loved you more than enough to work through it.”

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry about how I ended things, and I’m sorry about the voicemail and all the mess I’ve caused.” You tried to walk away from him, the proximity being too much, but he caught your arm making you face him once again.

Tears started streaming down his face as you tried to grapple with the weight of your own decisions. He looked you in the eyes, the determination from earlier is still there, even behind the tears those glossy eyes told you he wasn’t gonna leave in silence like last time. This time he had to leave it all out, even if he ended up hurt in the process.

“When you first called me I was too nervous to answer so I let it go to voicemail. I think even then I knew it wasn’t over for me, I knew hearing your voice would bring it all back.” You winced, acutely aware of the emotional turmoil you’ve caused. What you didn’t know was he wasn’t worried about pain coming back; what worried him was all the love he had for you and had pushed away after the break up coming back and once again not having where to put it.

“But then I wanted to hear you, the real you, not the voicemail, so I called you. I cannot tell you how happy it made me to hear you, like my heart was beating again after months of numbness. And you were telling me this great news, when you got that acceptance letter you wanted to tell me.” he continued, and you released a heavy breath, a half-smile forming on your face. He was right, the first person you wanted to share your triumph with was him, you hadn’t thought much about it back then but no it was so clear.

“I replayed your voicemail before the game that first time because I wanted to hear your voice. I didn’t realize how much I missed it until I heard you over the phone earlier that day, and all I wanted was to hear you again talking to me.” he confessed, a mixture of vulnerability and longing in his words. “At first I thought maybe I was making it up, you know? Maybe it was just my unresolved feelings, maybe there was nothing going on. But you called me first and then you kept on sending the voicemails. Things were going back to the way they were before. It felt like I was me again, like we were us again.”

Mat smiled thinking how everyone could notice; his friends, his teammates, his family, everyone could see the old Mat was back. He told them off, too afraid to consider you were all he was missing because he knew he didn’t have you back, not yet.

His hand gently cupped your face, sending a shiver down your spine. Closing your eyes, you leaned into his touch. You missed it, there was no denying it anymore. You missed it all too much—his touch, his voice, his energy, his very presence. Him.

“You said ‘I love you’ on the last voicemail. I replayed it like 20 times at least, just to hear those three words. From you, to me.” The weight of those three words hung in the air between the two of you after so long, it was electrifying. Your heart raced; he was about to say it, and you yearned to hear it.

“I love you.” he declared, and there was no ambiguity this time. It wasn’t a recall of your words; this time, it was his confession to you.

“Maty…” was all you managed to say; his nickname laden with tenderness and echoes of old fears that still lingered.

“I want this. I want you even if I can only see you two times a week and even if half that time you are studying or working or stressing over both. I want to be there with you. I want to fight and make up. I want all of it, the messy and ugly included.”

“I love you.” you finally whispered.

It was over. He loved you, you loved him, and there was nothing left to say.

In that breath-holding moment, he leaned down, his lips finally touching yours. It’s not just a kiss; it’s a wild ride through forgiveness, longing, and the silent agreement to dive back into the messy and the beautiful, hand in hand. He was smiling into the kiss, so were you. The taste of salt from their tears lingered, mingling with the sweetness of the moment. The kiss spoke of second chances and the magic of beginnings, a promise to rewrite the story that had once unraveled.

You pulled away, breathless and teary-eyed, yet a radiant joy painted across your faces. You laughed, a melody of relief and newfound hope. One of his hands was on your back as the other traveled from your face to the back of your head, pulling you against his chest. Your arms hugged his torso tight.

“I love you.” he mumbled against your head before placing a kiss on top.

NYI vs. MTL - December 1st

“Hey! Good luck tonight babe-”

“I don’t think it counts if I’m literally next to you when you record it.”

“Shush. Who’s the voicemail expert here? Me. Anyway, as I was saying before you interrupted me: good luck tonight, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

soooooo it’s here! hope you like it! like and reblogs are always appreciated!

it felt so good to write again and to share it too, hope i have more time this year to write more stuff

taglist:

@glassdanse @2manytabsopen @barbienoturbby @sweetlittlegingy @mcsteamylove98 @ttylfedora @chieflawyerpastatoad @iwantahockeyhimbo @fallinallincurls @jordiee95 @heatherawoowoo @barzysreputation @farabeezers @4ambagelbites @matwith1t @audryaho @maximoff-xmen @astrydis @joelsfarabees @bitchforbarzy @deloughrey @brias1201 @besthockeyfics @ya-pucking-nerd @hoiyheadharpies @mckenna4 @rosesvioletshardy @hockeyunits @siriusly-parker @ilyasorokinn @lam-ila @boqvistsbabe @theycallmecassie @ephemeral371 @hal3ynicol3 @angelblooddevil @besthockeyfics @beauvertime @picked-off-by-barzal @1316 @cherrygirl1229 @lunabean @random-readers-world @poufsouffle21 @barzysbaby @matbarzal13 @alwaysclassyeagle @wanbach23 @evaggreendaily

807 notes · View notes

barzysunflower · 4 months

Note

enemies to lovers with mat with D 13 and D 22. media girl x star player where mat loves to get under her skin because he’s dumb and can’t admit he likes her. she breaks up with her horrible bf and one night when she is out with the team something changes

thank you so much for the request!! this turned out very smutty but also a long part of plot so I hope you like it <3

13. “Let me help you forget that jerk.” & 22. “Do you feel what you’re doing to me.”

word count: 6.5k

warnings: drinking, jerk ex boyfriend, SMUT (18+)

"Oh, hey guys." The elevator door opened and a bunch of laughing hockey players stumbled out.

"Hey, (y/n)! Not going back to your room are you?" Oliver broke from the conversation to greet you.

"Yeah, actually. Kinda tired," you replied, hoping the stained tears you'd just dried in the bathroom weren't that obvious.

"Oh, come on. The night is young. Come out with us." He pointed to the guys behind him, including Mat, who looked at you with an expression you couldn't make out.

"Had a bad night so far, I think I just want to stay in," you said, shaking your head and forcing a smile.

"Well, what a better way to end it with a drink?," Matt Martin chimed in, his charming smile almost convincing you.

"I think she doesn't want to come. So let her be," the other Mat said, not even looking at you, and turned away from you and started shooing the guys in the direction of the exit. The guys let it go and with a wave they started following Mat.

As you watched them walk away, the tone in which Mat had said it sunk in and the sadness you had just felt turned into anger. Looking back on the relationship you had with Mat over the past few months, you could tell you really didn't have any. You were friendly with all of the other guys, coming to work was always a blast and with being around the team so often you had developed many inside jokes and gotten to know most of the very well. Except Mat. You could tell he had a problem with you but you didn't know why when everyone else was so nice to you. When you walked into a room and Mat was joking around and acting goofy, this side of him immediately stopped when he saw you. He was always acting quiet and when it came time for you to film content with him, he was acting like his normal self when the camera was on, but the second it was off and it was just the two of you, he was back to quiet and mumbled backhanded comments.

"You know what," you snapped out of your thoughts. "I think this night does call for a few drinks."

Wally turned around with a victory shout and threw his arm around you when you caught up with them.

***

"Alright, now tell me why you're downing these shots like you want to black out." Wally's face was already a bit blurry when you moved your head too quickly, but you finally forgot your boyfriend. Sorry. Ex-boyfriend.

That's right. After three years, you finally saw through all of the red flags and gaslighting and had enough of his bullshit. Or maybe it was the fact that you caught him cheating that made you realize all of these things.

"Oh, no, no, no. I am not drunk enough to spill my secrets to you." Wally acted all offended and again tried to the information out of you and finally flagged down the waitress to get you more shots. She delivered quickly, placing four more shots in front of you.

The first went down easy, so the second should go down just as smoothly. But you never got to that. "I think you've had enough to drink," Mat's voice carried over all of the noise from the bar. Your head snapped in his direction and you saw him staring at you intensely.

"He speaks." You lifted the little glass in the air. "And who are you to tell me I've had enough to drink?"

"You couldn't even get that question out without slurring, so maybe that." His stare somehow got more intense the longer you stared back. It might have something to with the fact that you crept the shot glass closer and closer to your lips.

"You don't like me. And I don't listen to guys who don't like me." You closed your eyes and took the shot. "Anymore."

"And there it is. Boyfriend?" Wally got your attention again and slightly pushed him.

"I don't wanna talk about him." You pouted and while Wally grinned victoriously, the other guys went back to their own conversation. A few moments passed, where you started to fast track through your memories of your relationship. The good and bad ones, but the bad ones stood out. "Why are all guys such idiots?"

All six of the guys turned their head, looking at you with a playful smile. "Yep, I am suddenly extremely aware that I am sitting at a table with just guys. Excuse me."

You stumbled through the bar to the bathroom, your head was spinning like crazy, not just because of the alcohol but also because despite how your ex-boyfriend mistreated you these past few years, it was still a loss you felt deeply. He was an ass, but you loved him and that didn't just go away in a night. You had no idea how long you stood in the bathroom, trying not to fall over but also gossiping with a few girls that found you in the bathroom with whom you had now become friends with.

A loud knock and call of your name disrupted the rather nasty conversation about your ex-boyfriend. You slowly opened the door to reveal Mat standing there with a glass of water. "You ok?"

"Why do you care, Mathew?!"

"Oh my god, are you the cheating boyfriend? She told us how cruel you are so get the hell out of here! You don't deserve her!," the blonde girl, whose name you'd unfortunately already forgotten and who was one of the sweet girls listening to your little rant, pushed herself through the door and in between the two of you.

"What?," Mat said perplexed looking at you for help.

"No, that's just Mat. What do you want?"

"You've been in here for a while. Thought you might need some water."

"No, thanks." You turned away, walking deeper into the bathroom to sit on the little couch. Your head started spinning again. Why was he being nice to you?

"Here." When you looked up, the girls were gone and only Mat stood in the bathroom handing over that glass of water that looked absolutely delicious. You crossed your arms, pouting, to which he rolled his eyes and placed the glass on the counter. "He cheated? Don't tell me you're still with him?"

"No! I might have stayed with him longer than I should have, but I do have some self respect. And, again, why do you care?"

"Jesus Christ, (y/n), why the hell do you think I don't care?," he shouted at you to which you let out a loud chuckle.

"Are you kidding? You hate me. Fine. I don't care." You did. "But don't come in here pretending to care and make a fool out of me."

"What are you talking about?" You scoffed, jumping to your feet, the alcohol giving you the courage.

"What am I talking about? Are you kidding? You never talk to me. You never even look at me. You stop joking around when I'm in the same room. You're visibly in pain when I have to take some pictures and videos of you. I don't know what I ever do to you, but whatever. I don't care anymore. Clearly it's your problem."

He sighed, then took a deep breath. Still never looking directly at you. "See, you're not even looking at me now! So get out. Have a laugh about my little break down in here but leave me alone!"

"I don't hate you," he simply said, making you even more angry. He was so insufferable. Always brooding, giving you dirty looks and now he says he doesn't hate you? That's exactly what you told him, listing every time he made you feel small and unliked by him.

"From day one! I walked in, thinking this was going to be the best job ever and yes it is! But the one guy I actually wanted to like me turned out the best the biggest asshole. But that's not what everyone else says about you, so why are you so mean to me? You're not like this with the rest of the social team, so it must be me! What did I do to you? Why is it just me?," you continued to now yell at him. But he stayed silent. He was on edge though, itching to tell you but fighting to hold back whatever he wanted to say. "You know what? I have had too much to drink to have this conversation right now."

"No you didn't," he replied, pressing his lips together.

"What? Were you not there starring daggers into me while I took like six shots with Wally?"

"I had the bartender switch to water. Half the time you were drinking water. Not counting your Long Island iced tea, you maybe two shots." Hm. Maybe that's why you didn't feel as drunk as you normally would be after that many shots. Your surprised faced actually made him chuckle for a split second. "Yeah. Wally didn't notice either. On that, why the fuck were you taking shots with Wally?"

"Because he offered. And he likes me. And I like him." He looked like you just stabbed a knife in his heart. "Why? You jealous?"

He didn't answer and your heart skipped a beat.

"Why'd you do it?," you asked quietly, concerning the fact that he had made the bartender switch to water.

"Why do you ask so many questions?"

"Maybe if you would answer one once in a while I would have so many! So why did you do it? Why are you jealous?" Silence. Again. And you started to get annoyed again. "God, Mathew would you just answer the damn question! You are such a difficult person. Why did you-"

"Because I like you!," he yelled back, shutting you up.

"W-what?," you asked, very confused. "That doesn't even make sense."

"I know." At least he admitted it. His face grew soft and he closed his eyes for a second. "Let's go, I'll walk you back to the hotel."

"No! I'm not going anywhere with you," you protested, crossing your arms again. He rolled his eyes.

"Come on."

"No. Not before you explain to me why the hell you would say you like me when these past few months clearly state otherwise."

"I-." But he wasn't able to say more than that.

"Yeah, that's what I thought." Disappoint you brushed past him heading for the door, but before you could make it, his hand grabbed you by the arm, spinning you to face him. His large hands grabbed you by the sides of your face and pulled you into him until your lips met.

The act caught you off guard so it took a couple of seconds to react, but when you did you practically melted in his touch. All the pain you had felt from your breakup suddenly vanished and only warm fuzzy feelings remained. His lips were so soft and warm, you wanted to explore them further. He must have felt the same way as he began to open his mouth with a sigh. His tongue brushed over your lips and elicited a small whimpering from you in response. You quickly became addicted to his touch and lifted your own hands to feel him.

"Holy shit." You both ripped apart turning to the familiar voice. The bathroom door was open and in the frame stood Ryan who was desperately trying not to laugh. "Sorry." But just as quickly as he appeared, he disappeared again.

Stunned at what just happened, not only the kiss but also that you'd been caught, you stood in that bathroom silently. Your brain went 100 mph, but to your surprise after the eventful day you had, the only thing in your mind was that kiss.

Mat broke the silence first. "Will you let me walk you back now?"

You only managed to nod and let Mat guide you out of that bathroom. He went to go talk to the guys quickly, letting them know that you'd be leaving. You were too embarrassed to face the other, knowing that Ryan probably told them what he saw, so you awkwardly stood by the exit until Mat came back to quickly escort you outside.

"Your purse."

"Oh." You accepted it, hanging it over your shoulder. You didn't even realize you forgot it. "Thank you."

The short walk back to the hotel was silent, even the elevator ride up to your floor and up until you reached your room. "Thanks for walking me back. Good night."

You started closing the door, but Mat interrupted. "I don't hate you."

"Okay."

He chuckled. "That's it? No millions of questions?"

"You're confusing me. And I'm tired. It's late? I don't even-"

"It's 11:30," he answered your thought looking at his watch.

"Oh. What? That's it?"

He chuckled again. "Yeah you were drinking at lightning speed."

"Well, I was trying to forget a certain someone."

"I'm sorry," he said. "Sorry that he cheated on you. You don't deserve that."

You tried to smile as a thank you, but it turned out very sad. Mat's hand reached out to brush some hair out of your face and your heart clenched at that gesture. "Did it work?"

"What?"

"Forgetting him?"

"The alcohol? No." It was definitely not the alcohol that helped you forget him, but the person standing in front of you. You thought he understood what he meant when his hand came up again to brush that same strand of hair out of your face again, but lingered slowly creeping back to the same place it was nested when you kissed at the bar.

"Want some help?" He suddenly stood very close to you. In the last few minutes he had entered your room enough to push you in and have the door close behind the two of you. And you hadn't even realized. You only had eyes for him. Or his eyes, which sparkled a desire full green. The tension that had been building ever since your fight at the bar almost became unbearable, which is probably what gave him the confidence to ask the question and for you to reply as you did. "Will you let me help you forget that jerk?"

You took the last step needed to stand flush against him and within a second your lips were on his. This kiss may have started out as passionately as the one at the bar but it quickly grew into something hotter.

Mat pushed you further into the room until you stumbled into the dresser onto which he lifted you with ease. You legs wrapped around his hips tightly so he had no room to escape, not that he had any plans to do so as his tongue licked into your mouth. You couldn't hold back a moan as Mat devoured your mouth like he couldn't get enough of you, your fingers digging into his soft brown hair.

You kissed for endless minutes, but when Mat eventually pulled away, your chest heaved, lungs pulling in much-needed oxygen. He breathed harshly, his mouth not retreating too far so you could feel him breathing against your lips. He nibbled on your lower lip, the feel of his teeth sinking into your swollen flesh making you moan softly. "Such pretty sounds," he mumbled in between teasing bites. "All for me?"

"Mhm," you whimpered, nudging your lips closer to his, desperate for his touch. He chuckled, but couldn't help but kiss you back, him too needy to feel this passion again.

More kisses, moans, and whimpers passed until you slowly inched your hips to the edge of the dresser until you finally met his. A deep groan rumbled through Mat's body upon contact and with his big hands he placed on your ass he pulled you even closer, rubbing his growing bulge against your quickly heating center. The layer of both of your jeans got in the way of the best possible friction and both of you realized that the clothes issue needed to be solved as fast as possible.

His mouth broke from yours to explore your jawline and neck. Just as your hands moved from his hair to open up his jeans, one of his hands moved to pull you v-neck down one shoulder, exposing more skin. Small moans climbed up your throat as his tongue started nibbling and licking your skin. "Mat," his name was barely a whisper, but he heard it and picked up on the plea to speed things up. He stepped away just enough so you could comfortably take off your sweater and bra in which time he pulled his pants down.

You didn't have a lot of time to react to the sight of his erect cock straining his underwear that already looked too tight from his thick thighs before Mat stepped back into you capturing your lips for another intoxicating kiss. You arched your back when his grabby hands got ahold of your breast, massaging it and rubbing your nipple between his fingers.

"Do you feel what you're doing to me? How could you ever think I hated you?," he asked out of breath as he continued to rub his hard cock over your center.

"Well, there is the time you-"

"Let's not get into this now, eh?" You laughed, but agreed since what he was doing to you felt way too good to stop. "But let's get you out of the pants and onto this extremely comfortable bed."

With that, he lifted you in the air walking you over to the bed and throwing you onto the mattress. Before dropping to his knees with a mischievous grin, he tore his sweater off then got to work on tearing your jeans off as well.

"God, I have been waiting to get my hands on you since the moment you first looked at me," he groaned as if he couldn't believe this moment was real.

"Then why-"

"Shush, I wasn't being mean to you," he interrupted.

"I was going to say, then why are you talking so long to take me?" The right corner of his lips curled up and his eyes darkened before finally also taking your panties off and grabbing you by your ass pulling you to the edge of the bed.

"Oh, honey, you're so wet" Mat rumbled, his fingers exploring your drenched folds, spreading you open for him while you trembled. "And who are you dripping for?"

"You." The word only a whisper.

"No one else on your mind?"

"No," you moaned bucking your hips into his touch. "Just you."

"That's right." He finally circled your clit, dragging a strangled moan from your mouth, before spanking the little bundle of nerves, making you jerk and cry out. "So sensitive and responsive," he murmured. "I've dreamed about your pussy—and it's even better than I imagined," he confessed distractedly before ducking down, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking until you were squirming beneath him so badly, he had to pin you down to the bed.

Pleasure washed through you in waves so overwhelming, your hands grabbed Mat's soft hair to keep yourself steady. Your whole body quaked, your hips bucking up against his face while he sucked your clit into his mouth, his tongue teasing the tip of it until you felt like you were going to shatter apart. But he wouldn't let you come so fast and continued teasing you. Mat licked at your pussy, his tongue digging into the depths of your hole as far as he could go, before using the tip of his tongue to tease your clit.

"Oh, god! Mathew," you moans grew louder at the sounds of him eating you out, something you ex never liked to do (not that you were thinking about him at all), and the thoughts of how hopefully he'd be fucking you numb in just a few minutes. If he was that good at foreplay, how good was he at the actual fucking part?

Just when you thought he couldn't get any better, he ripped his head out of your grasp and lightly slapped your clit, making you cry out. "So sweet," he mumbled, admiring your pussy again after having a taste. His fingers explored the sensitive tissue again before sinking one and then another finger into you. You moaned and squirmed, grabbing the sheets for some support.

"That's it. I can feel you squeezing me, you're close, eh?" You could only hum in response, still squirming beneath his touch. "Then come for me, honey."

Mat's fingers worked in and out of your hole slowly, dragging against your sensitive walls like he was reveling in how tight you were. His tongue brushed against your clit, making you moan and whine, the pleasure he offered so exquisite, you felt certain you were going to come soon. When his fingers pressed against that spot inside you, you abruptly screamed as you finally came. Your hands clutched the sheets then captured his hair again as you bucked your hips up violently against his face, his mouth never relenting even as your entire world shattered around you. His kept fucking you with his fingers, his mouth sucking on your puffy clit as pleasure coursed through you in wave after overwhelming wave. Your legs shook on either side of his head, the rest of your body trembling while Mat worked you through your orgasm.

Then, when the pleasure began to subside, Mat didn't relent. His fingers were still plunging in and out of your pussy while he licked furiously at your sensitive clit. You squirmed, whining at the overstimulation, but he only raised his head for a moment to stare up your body at you.

"One more," he rasped, pressing a kiss to your clit. "Gimme another one, honey," he said, greedy hunger in his voice. Then he spoke no more because his mouth was busy eating you out like a starved man. When he added a third finger to your cunt, fucking you harder with his fingers curled inside you, pressing against that spot, you felt the tension coiling inside you again. Mat was relentless, his tongue lashing against your clit, and it wasn't long before you came again.

If you'd thought your body had trembled and shook through your first release, it was nothing compared to the quaking shudders of your second orgasm. You screamed your throat raw at the overwhelming pleasure consuming your body and mind, and all you could do was hold onto his head and ride it out with him.

When you finally started to come down, you saw him licking your arousal from his fingers, his green eyes heated when he caught you staring at him. He smirked at your slumped, limp body and began to rise. He climbed on top of the mattress, pulling up with him, so your entire body now lay next to him.

"Gimme a minute," you huffed, still catching your breath, to which he chuckled.

"Take your time." With one hand under his head, he grinned at the ceiling. What he was saying earlier was the truth. He did like you and cared for you. He pinned for you and lusted after you. He just couldn't express that in the workplace and that somehow turned into passive aggressiveness. But he would apologize for that later. For now, he was just happy that after months of fantasizing you were actually lying in bed next to him.

"Thank you," you finally said waving your hand around. "For that."

Another laugh, one that made your heart skip a beat, left his mouth. "You sound like it was your first time being eaten out. And you're welcome."

When you didn't answer, only cringed, he sat himself up on his elbow looking down at you. You were strangely comfortable with being naked around him. With past boyfriends or hookups, you always quickly found something to cover up with. "How long were you with this jerk?"

"A few years."

"And he never once went down on you?" His perplexed face suddenly made you feel ashamed. Not about yourself but that you kept up with your ex for so long.

"Not never. He just didn't like doing it. And I haven't enjoyed it with others either so it wasn't a big deal," you admitted, though after what you just went through, you might have some reevaluating to do.

"Jesus Christ, (y/n)! You wasted your time with him. He should have been at your feet, worshipping you, thanking whatever god he believes in that you even looked at him let alone touch him. You especially deserve so much better." Your heart clenched and that fuzzy warm feeling in your belly returned. Since you had no idea how to respond, you kissed him. First softly, almost hesitant, but that feeling only grew stronger and within a few minutes you had pushed him back into the mattress and climbed on top of him.

You moaned into Mat's mouth, kissing him harder, your drenched center settling over the bulge in his pants. Your breath hitched in your throat and Mat took the opportunity to nip at your lower lip, making you moan again before you began rocking against his hardness. Renewed arousal flooded through your body, your skin heating while you kissed him until it became too much and you had to wrench your lips away from the handsome hockey player so you could gasp for air.

"Mathew," you cried softly, his name falling from your mouth in a whispered plea while your hips kept grinding down on his cock. He felt so big and thick beneath you and you didn't know what you wanted more, to keep grinding down against him or feel him fill you up.

Mat pressed his smile against your jaw, teasing your skin with kisses and little nips of his teeth, making you gasp and moan and clench down around nothing while you worked your pussy against his bulge.

"My mouth not enough for you, honey?" he rumbled teasingly in your ear, his hands sliding down your sides. He grabbed your ass with his big hands, kneading your soft flesh while helping you rock against him, dragging more moans from you. "Do you need my cock?"

"Yes, yes, please," you begged in a whining voice. Your pulse was thrumming beneath your skin and throbbing in your clit. Your hands pressed into the mattress next to his head and you used your grip as leverage to grind down harder on his bulge, pressing your clit against the fabric of his boxers until you were a whimpering mess. "Need it, please!"

"What do you need?," he whispered roughly.

"Your cock."

"Say my name. Who's making you feel like this?" His voice was rough in your ear sending more shivers down your body and directly to your clit.

"Mathew. You, Mat. Please, I need you."

His hands on your ass moved quickly to lift you to your knees just high enough so he could wiggle out of his underwear.

"Condom?," you whispered quickly before anything further progressed. His head dropped back in agony before he cursed. "Fuck."

Your head dropped to his chest, spinning as you considered the sides of the argument. "Sorry, I didn't actually plan on anything happening anytime soon."

"It's okay," you whispered, then kissed your way up his neck to his lips. "It's ok, we don't need one. I'm clean and on the pill."

"Me too. You sure?," he asked breathlessly in between more intoxicating kisses. "We don't need to do anything tonight."

"No, please, Mathew," you begged, lowering your hips onto his cock, sliding up and down his length. "I need you, please."

"Fuck! I would never say no to you, honey." Mat's gaze darkened before your eyes, a sound rumbling deep in his chest almost like a possessive growl. Then he was diving forward, capturing your lips in a searing kiss while his hands went back to your ass. He used his arm around your back to lower you down until the tip of his cock brushed against your dripping folds. "I'm gonna fuck your sweet pussy bare," he promised, bullying your clit with his tip until you were moaning and squirming on top of him. "I'm gonna fill you up with my come until it's dripping down your thighs."

Words escaped you, so you nodded your head, which felt light and fuzzy with how aroused you were. Your hands braced on Mat's shoulders and you stared deep into his eyes as he guided you to start sinking down on his cock. You gasped when you felt the head of his cock press inside your tight hole. You moaned when he was buried all the way inside of you, loving the feeling of his thick cock splitting you open, stretching out your little pussy. It was nearly overwhelming, just how much you had to stretch to accommodate him, but you enjoyed it too much to stop or protest. "So big," was all you could mumble, your lashes fluttering as you tried to keep holding his gaze through the feeling of his hardness stretching your inner walls.

Mat rumbled a pleased sound in his chest. "Ya like it, honey?" he asked, his lips curling in a devilish smirk that made you want to kiss his mouth hard. "Like feeling my big, fat cock splitting open your tight cunt?"

"Oh god, oh god," you mumbled, moaning while you slid down more of his length before lifting up and pressing down even further. "Feels so good—s'good, Mat," you muttered, still holding his gaze even as your eyes threatened to close from the overwhelming pleasure.

The moment felt too intimate to cut off the connection of your held gaze, so you stared into Mat's eyes as you worked yourself up and down his shaft, taking him impossibly deeper.

"F-fuck, oh fuck," Mat groaned, finally breaking eye contact to bury his face against your chest, like he was overwhelmed by the feeling of being buried inside you. His breath was hot against your breasts as he sucked in deep gulps of air, breathing in your scent while his hands gripped your hips so hard, you thought he might leave fingertip-shaped bruises on your hips—not that you minded. You shivered and clenched around his stiff cock, which only made him grunt in pleasure. "Feel so fucking good, honey," he rumbled, his voice muffled where it was pressed to your sternum. "So warm and tight and fucking perfect around my cock."

"Mhmm," you murmured, rocking your hips in small movements, feeling his cock drag against your sensitive inner walls. You were pressed so close together, you felt a shudder pass through Mat's body and continue through yours. It wasn't long before you were both writhing together, reveling in the feel of each other. "Feel so full—so full of your big cock, Mat," you said in a breathy whisper. You raked your nails through his hair, as he held you to your chest as your hips moved against his tiny thrusts.

"That's right, full of me," he mumbled possessively, nipping at your neck, moving back down to your breasts. He kissed your soft mounds while you rocked on top of him, his hands bringing you down harder and harder on his cock. Steve sucked on your nipple, lapping at the tight peak before giving the same attention to the other. "You feel better than I ever dreamed, honey," he rasped, looking up and catching your eye, depthless emotion filling his green eyes.

Shy heat filled your face and you smiled, warm pleasure curling through your limbs and pulsing insistently between your thighs. Your inner walls clenched down around Mat's cock, like your body was possessive of the feeling of him inside you and never wanted to let him go.

"I'm sorry," he whispered against your ear, pressing small wet kissed along your jaw. "Sorry I've been a bit of a jerk."

"So you admit it?" Your response sped up his thrusts to which you let out a surprised squeak which turned into a string of moans.

"Why don't you accept my apology for now and let me fuck you mindless like you deserve and we can talk about the rest later." His voice turned rough and possessive again, one you already loved as you pussy clamped down on his cock, so you nodded.

In a quick maneuver, Mat had turned the two of you around, lifting one of your legs. "Good girl."

He didn't give you a chance to react before he mercilessly started pounding into your sweet flesh. It was better than you ever could've imagined, the feeling of his hot, hard cock sinking into your tight cunt. His hips were smacking your thighs, his balls slapping against your ass with every thrust as he fucked you. You reveled in the feel of him, your arms and legs wrapped around him and dragging him deeper into the cradle of your body.

Mat's face hovered above you and you could see the way it was contorted with pleasure. The way he was fucking you—so possessively, you knew he was serious when he'd told you he had liked you all along. "Fuck," he choked out the whispered curse, pressing his forehead to yours. "Your pussy feels so fucking good gripping my cock."

You tilted your head up for a kiss, pressing your lips to his as you pulled him closer with your legs, rocking up against him. "More, please—need you, need more," you begged against his mouth, your breaths mingling until you didn't know where you ended and he began.

Giving you what you asked for, Mat pulled his hips back, dragging his cock along every sensitive inch of your cunt, before slamming back inside. His breathing was harsh in your ear as he let out stuttering moans, almost drowning out the sounds of his hips smacking against yours, his balls hitting your ass. "So good, so good, honey, so fucking good," he chanted against your check, his breath hot on your face.

Your face pressed into his neck, lips sucking on his skin until you knew you were going to leave marks, too far gone to care as your tongue darted out to taste him and soothe him. Your legs locked around his waist, your feet hooking behind his thighs so you could draw him deeper until he was fully seated in your cunt and he couldn't pull out more than an inch.

"Oh god, that's it. I'm so close," you mumbled as his thrust slowed but doubled in strength. Words escaped you, your lips forgetting how to do anything but kiss and moan and whimper and whine for Mat. Your head felt hazy, however not from the alcohol from earlier, but on Mat's cock and the dirty words pouring from his mouth.

"Yes, need you to come for me, honey. Need to feel you come on my cock," he muttered, picking up the pace of his slow grinding until he was rutting into you as much as your legs would let him. "Fuck, I can't stop, baby, 'm gonna come." He grunted and groaned, the sounds of his pleasure and his words filling the truck cab. "Come on my cock, baby," Mat rasped as he pounded his cock deep in your hole, grinding his pubic bone against your clit with every thrust, sending you careening toward the edge.

The desperation in Mat's voice and the way his cock pummeled a spot deep in your pussy that had your back arching into him, grinding your clit on him, pushed you over the edge. Your nails dug into his back, desperate to be anchored to him as it felt like you were free-falling through pleasure. Pressing your face into his neck, you muffled a scream, sobbing your release as your cunt rhythmically clamped down hard on his cock.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, that's it baby, that's a good girl," Mat praised, rutting into you harder, fucking you through your orgasm as he chased his own.

His fingers dug into your soft flesh so hard you were sure he'd leave bruises and that thought only sent more warmth curling through you, joining the aftershocks of your orgasm. "Please," you begged, your mouth finally remembering how to form words. "Come in me," you whined, squirming beneath him.

"Fuck—yes," he grunted, thrusting hard and pinning you down onto the mattress with his hips. "Take it, honey, take my come," he bit out through gritted teeth as you felt him start to come deep in your pussy. You moaned when you felt his cock twitch inside you, his come filling your warm hole. He panted, as he thrust a few more times, shallowly, until he was spent. Mat collapsed on top of you while you reveled in the feel of his come coating inside you. "So good for me, baby," he praised, turning his head enough to kiss your cheek.

Your arms and legs felt heavy and loose as your full body relaxed, drifting in the aftermath of a mind-blowing orgasm, feeling sated and happy. Running your fingers through Mat's hair, you hummed in happiness. Unable to stop yourself, you planted little kisses on his neck. He made a contented sound in his chest in response, his thumb sweeping over the back of your hand.

He still stayed buried deep inside you, brushing his lips over your face, your neck and collarbones. You enjoyed it, almost more than what you just did, breathing him in, staying in your fantasy just a little bit longer.

You suddenly snapped back to reality, realizing that while he had just been very sweat and caring, he did behave like a jerk these last few months. You pushed him off of you, pretending you didn't feel the extreme emptiness when his cock slipped out of you. "Get off me."

Mat laughed, sitting up on his elbows as he watched you scramble to find a shirt to cover up with. "Oh, come on, honey. Can't we enjoy this moment?"

"One phenomenal orgasm does just erase these last few months and prove that you actually never hated me," you explained in a snippy tone, blushing when you realized you admitted how good he'd made you feel.

"I'm pretty sure I made you come three times." You rolled your eyes, throwing his sweater at him before finally reaching your sweater and pulling it over your head. "Should I prove it to you again?"

Let's just say that that night and many other nights he continued to prove to you over and over again that he did in fact like you. Maybe even more than like.

#mat barzal #mathew barzal #mat barzal smut #nhl smut #hockey smut #smut #nhl fics #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #hockey fics #new york islanders

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residenthughes · 2 months

Text

slow sundays - mat barzal

pairing: mat barzal x gender neutral reader

word count: 1k

tags/warnings: fluff, domestic fluff, no mention of y/n

summary: any day spent with barzal is always good, especially sundays.

notes: a little something i wrote when i should have been sleeping, oops! may write a longer version, may not but i'll definitely write up something else longer for barzy, as well as some other fics that i've started and am very excited to share, hehe! as always, hope this finds u well and that you enjoy this small ball of fluff. much love! <3

oh! forgot to mention, this post is inspired by this post by @novelbear! they spoil tumblr rotten with such adorable prompts! :)

Sundays are your favourite days of the week. The normal anxieties that creep in from a long lived weekend cease to exist in your timeline, a day defined by slow sweetness and sacred serenity. This year you’ve really lucked out with said day, most of Mat’s games scheduled another time and on the off chance he has practice, it’s before you can even pry yourself from the comfort of your cloud-like mattress. This is one of those Sundays, where you’re tucked away in citrus scented sheets, fast asleep as Mat presses a tender kiss on the bridge of your nose before he goes off to do what he does best, leaving you to emerge from your cocoon whenever you please.

You decide shortly after Mat departs to desert the covers, arranging them neatly with a sleepy pout set onto your puffy lips before starting your share of morning chores. Amidst the array of bits and bobs you cater to around your cosy home, you cook up a breakfast built for two - piping hot and ready to eat by the time Mat’s car pulls up the driveway.

You drape your arms lazily around his nape, beaming a lovesick grin as you peck your long-time lover. “Good practice?”

“Great practice,” he breathes against you, minty fresh with the faint waft of his accompanying cologne. His strong arms pull you impossibly closer, your body snug in his embrace. “But I’ve got better things waiting for me right here.”

His large hands cup a handful of your butt, giving it a cheeky squeeze that involuntarily makes you jump against him, your cheeks crimsoning. “And to think, that’s the thanks I get for making us breakfast.”

Mat releases his grip as you back away, disbelief washing all over his sculpted features as he gives you a cocked eyebrow and a petty laugh. “Says the one who-”

Your hand comes up, an index finger raised. “Don’t finish that sentence.”

Wordlessly, Mat holds his hands up in surrender, brazen-faced as you send him an eye-roll with crossed arms. Despite the circumstances, your hands find the top of his zipper, opening up his coat before you hang it up near the door in perfect routine. The selfless action still warrants one of your favourite kisses from your boyfriend, kisses from side-to-side - a kiss on the cheek, nose and cheek again. A simple action but one that robs you of all oxygen, a lightness in your limbs and a tingle down your spine. You soon turn around with Mat trailing not far behind as you venture back to your spacious kitchen, settling at the quaint table for two - a single vase rose separating your plates packed with all your breakfast favourites.

Before you have the chance to take your seat at your baby blue painted table, Mat comes up from behind you, cradling you in his sugary embrace as he plants a delicate kiss against your temple, your heart overflowing with the magic of your slow Sundays together. “How’d I get so lucky?”

You hum blissfully, a hand delicate against his stubble-ridden cheek as you simply exist together, limbs tangled as you savour the moment like sand slipping through your fingertips. A quick kiss against Mat’s prickly cheek puts a pause on the moment, your grin giddy as your hand takes Mat’s as you direct him to sit, which he does - no questions asked, fuschia dusted upon the apples of his cheeks.

You fall into perfect routine, your brunch a show that consists of all your favourites: Mat’s cutlery glimmering in the soft rays pouring into the windowed kitchen as he cuts his food, ceremoniously offering you the first bite of his food with the same smitten closed mouth smile that he had the first day he met you. Happily, you accept his generous offer and take a bite, beaming with full rosy cheeks as he swipes the crumbs with such an earnest shimmer in his eyes that it makes your heart squeeze with joy.

Your brunch continues in similar fashion, two enamoured partners basking in the company of another as you bond over a hearty plate of food, time lost in endless dialogues and timeless ‘I love you’s. When there’s nothing but crumbs speckled across your ceramic plates, Mat shoos you away before you can get a protest in, you resorting to sulking on the edge of couch as the sounds of plates clinking together competes with the noise coming from the TV.

When everything’s said and done, the washing up dried and packed away, Mat shuffles into the lounge, falling into the couch with a grunt as he positions himself as close to you as possible. You can never bring yourself to mind, head falling to his broad shoulder once he’s propped his feet against the hickory coffee table with his arm circling your shoulders. Another kiss atop your head tells you he’s settled and you melt into his side, no objections sounding from your long-time boyfriend as reruns of 'The Bachelor' blare from the TV. If anything, Mat immerses just as much as you. Well, as much as the slightly fatigue man can as his fingers absently fiddle with locks of your hair, the gesture a lullaby that aids your sudden drowsiness that links hands with the warmth emitting from Mat’s body that always fits against yours like a puzzle piece.

Before you’re able to drift away into a shallow slumber, a slumber you both shall share prior to your simple plans for the day, Mat’s sleep-laced voice calls out to you.

“Waking up next to you is the best part of my day.”

And you chuckle softly because of the simple fact you know this to be true - evidenced in the way affirmations of love fall so easily from his lips, in the way he never allows you to walk near any busy roads and buys you flowers just because. And, best of all, when your precious Sunday comes and goes, your Monday view consists of your beautiful boyfriend as you reverse out of your driveway, a sleepy smile mellowed into his features as he sees you off, hollering one and the same line wishing you a great day at work, which is nothing but granted if you’ve got him by your side.

#mb13 #mat barzal #mathew barzal #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal fic #mat barzal fluff #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal x you #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #new york islanders #ny isles #ny islanders #residenthughes

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hugshughes · 3 months

Text

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 - 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐍 𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐒

𝐎𝐍𝐄 - 𝐒𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤!

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 - 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐜 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐟, 𝐘/𝐧 𝐘/𝐥/𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐰𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐡𝐮𝐦, 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞!

𝐰𝐜 - 1.4𝐤 (𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐞 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐡𝐥 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟!)

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 - 𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝! 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 (𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲!), 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐚𝐧𝐱𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲, 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐩𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐳𝐳𝐢, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐥!

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - 𝐢 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐦 𝐬𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐝𝐝 𝐢 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬!

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 - 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - @alwaysclassyeagle (𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰!)

real life! december 10th, 2023. 8:23pm EST.

"I'm gonna fucking throw up. I can't do it."

You earned a slap on the back of the head after the loud proclamation. You turned to your best friend with wide eyes, rubbing the spot she made contact with.

"No you're not. And yes you can! Everyone's gonna go ballistic, they miss you babe!"

You stared down at your phone, gazing at the text messages between you and your manager, she'd just given you the go ahead to post the announcement for your new album.

In reality, you knew they did miss you, but you were so nervous. Your new album was so special to you, and you wanted it to be recieved well. Every song was so complex and unique to you. It was the first album you would release since the worst breakup of your life. After you'd finally broken up with Mat, all you wanted to do was crawl into a hole and not talk to anyone for a year. Honestly, that's kind of what you did.

"I know. I just want everyone to love it like I do."

"They will, I promise. Everyone's gonna freak! Now, I have an idea."

"What?"

"After you post, we leave our phones down here and while we go get ready, and go to that bar you love!"

You smiled, that sounded fun. You opened Instagram, sliding to create a post. After choosing the photo of the new album cover, you typed out a caption.

"Okay, we can do that! That'll take my mind off of this. Now I just need to post, shit, I'm nervous."

You looked over and your best friend just smiled and nodding towards your phone. You sighed, biting your lip before hitting the post button. You refreshed your profile to make sure it posted before shutting your phone off, dropping it next to you on the couch.

Your best friend jumped up, grabbing your hands and pulling you to stand.

"Let's go, sweetheart. We're gonna go get you happy and tipsy."

You followed her upstairs and into your bedroom, standing at the door of your closet while she grabbed outfits to offer you. You let her dress you up like a little doll. She put you in a little black dress with a white bow under the bust. She added black boots and your outfit was complete. You both fixed up your hair and makeup before putting together your going out bags.

Once you were downstairs all you did was throw your phone into your little purse, not caring to check any of the notifications you were receiving. You climbed into her Black SUV before she pulled out of your driveway, starting to the city. You lived in a few different places, having two homes and an apartment in three different cities. Currently, you were staying in your house in New York, in a more suburban and residential area farther from the city.

You also had a house in Palm Springs and an apartment in Seattle, since that's where lots of your family currently was. The drive to the bar was about 40 minutes, all spent singing and dancing with your phone connected to CarPlay. You guys parked in a large parking garage before heading down the street into the bar. You walked quickly to get away from the cold, shivering beneath your large leather jacket.

The bar was always less crowded than most, since it was higher end, and you knew some of the staff. Your face lit up as you saw your favorite bartender wiping down glasses as you sat at the bar.

"Hi lady!"

Her head snapped up, a smile gracing her face while she greeted you.

"Aw hi! Oh my gosh, girl. I saw your announcement! You don't know how excited I am!"

Your heart warmed. This being the first reaction you heard to your announcement was definitely sweet.

"Stop, thank you so much! I've definitely been really nervous about it. I haven't even checked my phone since I posted it."

"Well you are going crazy viral, everyone is freaking out!"

You best friend gave you a knowing look, she had told you so. You blushed, thinking about your fans loving the new album. You got your drinks and went to sit at an empty booth in the back of the bar, a Cosmopolitan and a lemonade, since your best friend was designated driver. There were only a couple other groups here, around 10 other people.

After a bit, you two took a trip to the restroom. You took your jacket off while you best friend took photos of you in the mirror to post later.

After around two hours, you exited the bar, the time nearing midnight. You were astounded when you saw flashes of light blinding you as you began the walk to the garage. Paparazzi. Thankfully, you were in New York, and knew the guys.

"Oh, hi guys! What's up?"

"Hey Y/n! What's up with us? What's up with you?! Everyone saw the announcement earlier tonight! Personally, I can't wait!"

You smile brightly, New York paparazzi weren't like Los Angeles paparazzi. These were the guys you knew through Taylor, they were respectful and not pushy.

"Thank you so much! I'm so excited! I literally have not looked at my notifications since posting it, I was too nervous!"

"Can you tell us what the album's gonna be about? Maybe a little insight?"

"Well, the songs are all pretty different from each other, honestly. Some are more personal than others. But the genre of music isn't too steady through on this album, I jumped around a bit!“

They nodded, laughing along with you. You answered a few more questions and took a few more pictures before they let you go. You felt happiness settle into your stomach when you got comfortable in the car.

It wasn't until after you got home, and got ready for bed that you started looking through your new notifications. Many texts from friends congratulating you, news that you were trending on Twitter, and that you post had 6 million likes in five hours.

Your manager had also texted you that sometime soon you should post the back cover, especially since the first post was so well received.

First you posted the photo from the bar to your story before going to post the back cover, some how more nervous than before. The back cover had the track list on it, it would reveal the whole album. Scary.

"Just post it! I'm not going through this with you again."

Your best friend gave you a look, one that heavily reminded you of her mother, with a hand on her hip before she climbed into your bed next to you. You nodded, sighing as you hit the post button.

The two of you laid close and talked quietly, giggling and shushing each other like little girls scared their moms were going to come in and tell them to go to sleep.

Eventually you did fall asleep, the do not disturb setting stopping your phone from buzzing off the table.

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262 notes · View notes

mendeshoney · 10 months

Text

don’t tell me you’re my heartbreaker

Summary: You weren’t expecting Mat to come back to you.

Pairing: mat barzal x f!reader

Word Count: 10,251

Warnings: post breakup, verbal disagreement, angst, make up sex, angst with a happy ending, second chance romance

A/N: happy freaky friday, i have returned lol. thank you to @m00nlightdelights for beta reading this and being my hype person, ily<3

Why you had agreed to this, you had no idea.

Even now, sitting here, across from an unsurprisingly empty chair, every instinct, every nerve ending in your body is telling you to run, to flee, to get the fuck out of here and run down the few blocks it would take to get to the train station to get away from all of this.

From this, terrible, horrible, no good, very bad idea.

You anxiously checked the time on your watch once more, the glaring 6:28 PM letting you know there were exactly two minutes till the agreed time of 6:30 pm, and once that time arrived, you would start the timer for what you were considering a generous fifteen minutes.

If he wasn’t in this chair across from you at 6:45 pm, sharp, you would give into your body’s response and bolt.

And then that would be it, right? You’d be able to put everything that had happened into a box sealed with a neat little bow, store it away to be forgotten and move the fuck on.

You could deal with that.

…Right?

You checked your watch again.

6:29 PM.

The waiter comes back to your table, dropping off the two glasses of water, a basket of bread rolls and a little dish of butter, along with the diet coke and glass of wine you’d ordered for yourself, and the whiskey on the rocks you’d ordered for him.

You really shouldn’t have done it.

Would it send him the wrong message?

No. you chided yourself. There's nothing wrong with being polite. Be the bigger person.

Besides, if his tastes somehow changed in a month and a half, and if he wanted something else to drink, he could get it himself once he showed up.

If he showed up.

Immediately after the waiter turned his back on you, you reached for your wineglass and took a large gulp, trying to psych yourself up. Trying to remind yourself that despite what you were feeling, you did have the upper hand here. He asked you to be here, and you could leave at any time you wanted.

You checked your watch again as you put your wineglass back down to the table.

6:30 PM.

He gets a generous fifteen minutes and that’s it. You reminded yourself sternly.

The second the thought formed in your head, the door to the restaurant flew open and your eyes betrayed your attempt to appear nonchalant about all of this, immediately flying to the door and observing as Mat entered in a rush of limbs, pulling the toque off of his head and smoothing a gloved hand over his hair.

You continued to watch, keeping your expression blank as he weaved through the tables and straight for you, plopping down into his seat with a hushed but rushed, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t think traffic would be so crazy, had I known I swear I would’ve taken the subway or an Uber instead of taking my car, and-”

“Breathe,” you say gently, taking in the deepening flush of his cheeks. “It’s fine.”

Mat exhales, taking off his gloves and stuffing them in his jacket pocket, before shrugging it off and letting it hang on his seatback. He ruffles his hair anxiously one more time, then finally, finally looks at you.

Your stomach twists.

Shit.

You were worried about this. You’d managed to get over him - well, about eighty five percent of the way over him, at least - but you were worried that the minute he gave you his full attention, the minute you looked into his eyes, you’d be catapulted back into his orbit and it would be like the last month and a half you’d spent trying to exorcize him, your relationship, and all the memories tied up in between, would have been for nothing.

It’s not all of that quite yet, but your heart starts incessantly hammering against your ribcage anyway, and you fight to keep your expression blank, trying to resist the urge to be launched back into his gravitational pull.

His expression, however, falters, and the instant smile that spreads across his face when you manage to make and maintain eye contact for longer than a second is brilliantly bright.

“Hi,” Mat breathes. “Sorry I’m late.”

“You’re technically right on time.” You counter, then lower your gaze to the drinks and bread in front of you, trying to look anywhere but at him.

Gorgeous fucker.

Stupidly beautiful.

Annoyingly perfect.

His eyeline follows yours, and he frowns for a second, before a look that you can only describe as fond takes over his face. “You ordered for me?”

“Just the drinks,” you clarify. “The waiter said he’d be back to take our orders once you got here.”

“Well,” he says, looking into your eyes, “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

You shrug, not really considering it a big deal and he leans forward, clasping his hands on the table when he says “It really means a lot that you agreed to meet me here.”

You assess him a little, and when you find he’s being sincere, all you can do is nod. There's still a ball of anxiety in the pit of your stomach, and your walls climb all the way up, barricading what’s left of your heart behind its stone barriers, and keeping it close.

Mat can clearly sense this, can sense you keeping yourself at a distance if the small frown that starts to form on his lips is anything to go by, but it’s gone as quickly as it appeared, and he plows forward. “I know…I know that things didn’t exactly end well, and I wanted to apologize for that. I wanted…I wanted to talk this out. Talk about us.”

You nod again, because he’d said as much when he called you out of the blue this morning, but it’s what he says next that nearly gives you whiplash.

“I want to give this another shot.”

You blink, partially stunned.

That is…not what you expected him to say at all.

When he called, said he’d wanted to talk about everything, you assumed it was for closure, assumed it was so they could maybe finish the half-finished angry conversation you’d been having the day you broke up, when he called it quits out of nowhere and then walked out.

You hadn’t been expecting…this.

“You…what?” You stutter out.

He nods, vehement, grabbing a roll and his butter knife, stabbing a little ball of butter on the end of it and going about buttering a roll for you and then himself - a habit of his now, you’re sure - like this is all completely normal.

“Yeah,” Mat says, gaining confidence with each word he speaks. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said that day. About what you’d been trying to tell me this whole time, and you’re right. I wasn’t exactly the best boyfriend to you. I didn’t put you first, I took advantage of you, got scared, and when it mattered most to you, I couldn’t give you what you needed, but that’s not true anymore.”

He puts the roll on the little plate in front of you, then goes about making his own, continuing on like you’re not sitting there gaping at him. “I know I said a lot of things. A lot of awful things, no, horrible things, things that I didn’t mean. And I know I can never take it back, but I hope I can at least…try to make things better?”

Watching you, Mat takes a moment, gauges your reaction. You realize he’s waiting for you to say something, but the only thing you can manage is a small “huh.”

He swallows. “I uh, I know there's a lot to unpack, and I know I have a lot to explain to you, but I wanted to at least put all my cards on the table as to where I’m coming from.”

It’s all too much, and you feel like your body malfunctions a bit, your hands coming up to stop him from speaking any further. “I’m sorry…I just, I need a second to process.”

He closes his mouth, nodding, watching you closely, eyes getting a little wide as you grab your wine glass again to take another large gulp, nearly draining it before reaching for your buttered roll and taking a bite to try to calm your nerves. You both sit there, Mat watching you, and when you finish the roll after a couple of minutes and you manage to gather some semblance of sanity, you hesitantly meet his gaze.

“I don’t understand.” You say. “You…want to get back together?”

“Yeah,” he says, a little sheepish now. “I would like that.” When you don’t answer, or return his smile, it drops a little, only reaching the corners of his mouth. “Unless…unless you don’t want that?”

You grab your wineglass again, downing the last of it and trying to gather all of your thoughts.

There was…definitely a lot to unpack there.

You certainly hadn’t been prepared to discuss…getting back together with him. Even though there was a space in your still recovering heart that desperately ached for the prospect to be with him again, to go back to that little slice of paradise the two of you had managed to carve out for yourselves in the dreary winter of last year.

To go back to spending snowy days cuddled up together in his bed, to return to your spring outings in the many parks New York had to offer, to go back to Summer with him in Vancouver and spending days at the lake, spend fall with him cozied up with warm cups of coffee or hot chocolate or spiked cider.

But that was…gone now.

You’d worked hard in the last month and a half to convince yourself that this, him and you, your relationship and any chance of it coming back was gone.

Because it was. You’d fought, explained that you loved him but needed a little more from him, wanted more from him. He fought back, he’d said things, called it quits and then walked out because that was what he said he wanted. And if he was willing to go that far, you need to believe it was what you should want, too.

You were right to worry about agreeing to meet with him for dinner.

I should have left at 6:25, you curse yourself.

“I don’t know, Mat.” You say finally, honestly. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

The smile that had been lingering at the corner of his mouth slightly disappears. “What’s not a good idea?”

“Any of it,” you say honestly, pushing the words out of your mouth with a tired breath. “I just don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Mat’s quiet for a moment. You can’t read the expression on his face, can’t parse out what he’s thinking or what he’s feeling. It’s a little daunting, seeing as how you used to be able to read him like a book.

But trying to exorcize him from your mind when you were broken up meant forgetting, and you’d clearly managed to forget more than you originally thought.

His whiskey on the rocks be damned.

Said whiskey was still in his glass, untouched, and Mat stared at it for a second before looking at you, nodding. “Okay.”

You raised a brow in suspicion. “Okay?”

He nods, pulling out his wallet and flipping through a few bills. “Yeah, okay. I can respect that.”

You can’t help but stare at him, only a little confused.

When he’d called you out of the blue this morning, he seemed eager. He said he wanted to see you, have dinner, and talk to you about something important. You could practically sense the adrenaline running through his veins, could hear the hard thuds of his heartbeat through the phone. And while you knew Mat was always the kind of guy who was mature enough to take no for an answer, his response made you a little surprised that he wasn’t going down without a fight.

“Come on,” he says gently, placing a couple of bills on the table - more than enough to cover the drinks you’d ordered and a generous tip - before standing up, and extending his hand towards you. “I’ll bring you home.”

“Mat you don’t have to-”

“I’m going to,” he insists. “I asked you out, almost got here late. It’s the least I can do.”

With a moment’s hesitation you could tell Mat didn’t like by the flex of his jaw, you placed your hand in his, accepting his help as you stood up. Together, you both put on your own coats, gathered your things, and exited the restaurant.

You follow Mat to his car, thanking him as he opens your door, making sure you were secure before getting in on the driver’s side and peeling away from the curb.

“Do you want me to stop to get you something to eat?” He offers. “I just realized I all but dragged you out of there, but you probably didn’t even eat yet.”

“No, I’m okay.” You assure him, albeit lying a little. You had been starving, but his choice of conversation curbed your appetite quickly.

“Are you sure?” He offers. “I can stop somewhere, or order a pizza.”

You shake your head, “No, thank you. Just take me home.”

The rest of the drive is silent, save for Mat’s radio playing lowly in the background. You keep your eyes trained out the window, refusing to acknowledge Mat or his constant fidgeting. You know it’s a sign that he’s got something to say, probably wants to bring up your decision at the restaurant, or maybe insist on dinner, but thankfully, he keeps his mouth closed.

Once he gets to your apartment, he parks outside, making a point of saying “Stay right there,” as you reach for your door handle.

With a small roll of your eyes, you indulge him, waiting patiently for him to round the car and open your door for you. You take his outstretched hand, allowing him to help you onto the curb and dropping it the second you can stand upright.

He locks his car, escorting you into your building and following along with you in the elevator like he always used to.

“Always gotta make sure you get in safely,” he used to say when you chastised him about this before. “I need to see it with my own two eyes.”

When you finally reach your front door, you find that you just want him to leave, and can’t seem to get him out of your hair quick enough.

You reach for your keys in your purse, fumbling a couple of times trying to get the stupid thing into the lock.

“Let me get it,” he offers, reaching for your shaking hands, but you snatch them away before he can touch you, taking a step back.

“I don’t need your help, Mat!” You nearly shout, almost regretting it when you take in his expression.

Almost.

“Hey,” he says, hurt lacing his voice as he frowns. “I was just trying to-”

“I know!” You sigh out, frustrated and exhausted. “I know what you were trying to do, Mat. I appreciate it.”

“Then what’s the issue?” He asks, hands gesturing between the two of you.

“I thought tonight was about getting closure Mathew, not getting back together!” You exclaim, exasperated. You fall back against the wall closest to your door, head thumping gently back against it. “It took me by surprise and now I feel like everything is upside down.”

“It doesn’t have to be!” He counters, just as exasperated as you. “It can be simple, it can be easy, if you just let me-”

“Why would I let you say anything to me?” You snap, your angry gaze cutting him straight down the middle.

“Because I still love you!” His confession takes you by surprise, and he crowds into your space, the heat coming off of his body in waves. “I love you, and I want this. I want us back, and I just want to work this out.”

You can’t find the words for a small moment, taken aback by the sincerity in his eyes, and how he’s behaving like nothing happened. “After the way you spoke to me when we broke up? After the things you said?” That seems to shut him up. “You really think you deserve another chance?”

At your words, Mat could see the wall you were slowly building up to keep him away, to shut him out and push him away for good. If he wasn’t upset before, he definitely was now. He feels so close to seething, his chest rising up and down with every angry breath. He is angry, yes, but not at you, never at you. At himself. He presses his hands on either side of your head, resting on the very wall he had your body pressed up against so many times before.

Before, when he’d bring you home, press you against this wall by your door and make out with you for what felt like hours, before eventually dragging you inside when you could hear people coming up the stairs or when the elevator dinged.

But now, he was so livid, so fucking angry with himself that he felt like if he tried hard enough, he could push his hands through the brick, felt like if he closed his fists, he’d pound into the masonry until it was rubble.

“Don’t shut me out.” He pleads. “I know what I said was awful, but-”

“No buts.” You respond. Your tone was dry, your eyes empty. You were looking right at him, but all Mat felt was hollow, like you were looking right through him instead.

“Baby, I want to make you understand but-”

“No buts.” You repeat, a little firmer, a little louder. It took the breath right out of him. “Every time you say ‘but,’ it negates everything you said in front of it.”

You’d said that once before, he remembered. You were saying it to Tito, giving him advice on how to make up with a girl after they’d fought, explaining how to communicate better instead of making things worse. Mat remembers how tuned in he was to you talking to Tito about it, how he couldn’t help but feel like you were sharing a piece of yourself in turn, that he didn’t realize he was staring at you until someone cleared their throat.

Here and now, with your beautiful eyes looking through him like glass, he wishes he could’ve stayed in that moment. Wishes he listened to his gut all those months and didn’t take this risk.

That he didn’t risk losing you.

He was so sure all of this would have ended with him breaking your heart.

Now you were breaking his.

“Baby,” he chokes out. “I just didn’t think that I could be what you needed back then. I didn’t think I was good enough to be what you needed, okay?”

“But if you loved me, you would’ve at least tried.” You reason.

Mat shakes his head. “I do love you. Love you. I just didn’t want you to get hurt, can’t you see that? There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re beautiful, you’re perfect, so perfect it makes my chest ache.”

“Is that why you called me clingy?” You deadpan, recalling his exact words the last time you saw one another. “Is that why you said my emotions were too much? Why you said I was asking you for too much? Is that why you said it felt like I was suffocating you by asking you for more? I’m so perfect that it makes you feel sick just being so close to me all the time? Is that the ‘ache’ you were talking about? There’s nothing wrong with me now, but you weren’t willing to try to do anything more to be with me back then? Is that why you did all of this? Because the whole ‘it’s not you it’s me’ bullshit you’re spewing right now contradicts that a lot, you know.”

“I didn’t mean that.” He pleads. “I didn’t, I swear. I just said all of that-”

“To make me believe it.” There’s no emotion in your voice or your eyes, no light, no wonder, no window into what you’re thinking. All the fire and molten heat that’s usually there is gone.

It's all my fault. He thinks miserably.

Mat swallows thickly, hoping he didn’t snuff out your flame and make you shutter yourself away, but it’s no use. He knows it’s his fault. “Well,” you begin, placing one palm flat on his chest and pushing. “Congratulations. I do.”

He goes easily, taking a step back even though it feels like he’s putting miles between you both. It dawns on him when his hands fall to his sides lamely that he could have touched you, kissed you one last time just then, and since he didn’t, he probably never will again.

“You were right.” You say simply. “That day, when you said that when people show their true colors we should believe them. And I believe you, Mat. I believe all of you. Especially the version of you that you really are. And that version of you? Doesn’t want to be with me.”

After every word, all the fight dies out of him a little as you push yourself off the wall, not sparing a single glance at him as you walk away, dragging his battered heart with you as you enter your apartment, and lock him out.

Your heart pounds as you finally throw your apartment door shut behind you and lock it and struggle with everything in your power not to collapse to the floor.

Idiot.

Fucking beautiful idiot.

You can’t do this now, can’t cry and weep and mourn for something that was already over. But deep down, you still believed that what you both had was real. You hoped and prayed with the last shreds of positivity that you owned that for once, for one small moment, this thing with Mat would allow you to exist outside of yourself and have something real, something tangible. That he would fight for it.

And even that was taken away from you.

And yet, you should have known it was all too good to be true. Hell, you did know. And you hoped anyway.

A mild trill sounds from your purse - your phone - and you groan, trying so desperately to push the pain of your heartbreak away.

You wipe furiously at your face, willing away tears that threaten to surface while trying to shove your emotions down. You tear off your purse, coat, scarf, and make quick work of throwing your hair into a bun before wrenching open the closet and stripping down, tossing your clothes into your hamper before stomping into your bathroom.

Your phone rings again, and you let out a pathetic cry of frustration, stomping back to where you left it and fishing it out.

It’s Mat, and his name fills your screen with his text messages.

Please baby, please talk to me

Let me fix this baby

I need you to know how sorry I am

If anything baby, please believe I never meant to hurt you

I need you

You fling your phone toward your bed with an angry scream that turns into a sob, and you sink to your knees on the plush carpet of your bedroom.

Isn’t this what you wanted, once upon a time? Someone to fight for you, fight to keep you, fight to win you back, to be lusted after, desired.

You weren’t sure you wanted this anymore.

You’d dated others, but you never felt heartbreak with them.

You did with Mat, though. You felt every crack in your heart. Felt the sadness, the sorrow, the misery.

With Mat, he seemed to make you feel everything and more.

And that was why this hurt so bad.

Because you felt it all anyway.

You fell together anyway.

You loved him anyway.

Love him anyway.

Fuck.

It’s hours later, getting close to eleven at night and you’re sipping on your late night glass of wine when your apartment’s intercom buzzes.

Despite your better judgment, you get up from your spot on the couch to answer it, figuring it’s probably your neighbor two doors down who forgot her keys - again - after a night out.

You press the intercom to talk, saying “You owe me wine for this, Isabella.”

The voice that comes back is not Isabella’s at all.

“It’s me.”

You nearly drop your wine glass, what little alcohol you’ve had tonight rushing through your veins and to your brain quickly, too quickly, and you’re pressing the intercom again before you can register what you’re doing.

“Mathew?”

“Yeah. Can I come up? I was hoping we could talk…talk again, I mean. I didn’t like how I acted earlier, and I-”

You’re pressing the buzzer to let him in before he can finish his sentence, not necessarily needing or wanting to hear the rest of his plea. The last thing you need is for anyone to spot him on your doorstep this late at night.

There was a small part of you that was grateful you’d managed to shower after the little semi-breakdown you had after getting back from dinner. Although now you regretted putting on the silky tank top and shorts pajama set.

Definitely can’t open the door wearing that.

You quickly place your wineglass on your nightstand, running to your dresser fully intending to grab clothes to change, but then your doorbell rings, and, well.

You could stall, could change anyway, but you don’t need him in the hallway any longer than necessary in case your neighbors spot him.

So instead, you trod over to the door, opening it to find Mat standing there in black sweatpants and a black shirt, his hands in his pockets and his hair a little damp, though thoroughly disheveled, as if he’s been running his hands through it over and over again since getting out of the shower.

You step to the side, allowing him in, and he crosses the threshold, taking off his shoes and putting them next to yours like he’s done hundreds of times before. You shut the door behind him, taking your time locking it to try to catch your breath.

He goes to sit on your couch, then pauses halfway there, unsure.

This was where it happened, after all. In your living room.

Where you’d fought, he’d spewed his venom, broke your heart, then walked out.

Deciding you also don’t want to sit on the couch, you walk past him, leading him into your bedroom. It’s probably not the best idea, but it’s the safest alternative.

You sit at the edge of your bed, and Mat leans himself against your dresser, feeling too antsy to sit down.

“I’m sorry,” He starts. “For how I acted earlier, I didn’t mean to make it seem like I had a right to your time.”

You shrug. “It’s okay.”

Mat shakes his head. “It wasn’t. And it also wasn’t fair of me to ask you out to dinner and not explain my intentions behind it. Dropping that on you at dinner wasn’t fair either, and I didn’t mean to blindside you with it.”

You nod, reply on the tip of your tongue when Mat forges on. “I realize I have no right to ask anything of you, and no right to ask for the space to explain myself, but I’d like to, if you’d let me.”

It takes you a second, but you already know your answer before you’re speaking the words. “I’ll let you.” You say softly.

This conversation has the beginnings of closure to it, and no matter what direction it goes in, you need to hear what he has to say if there’s any hope for you to either move past this, or move on from him.

So you let him talk.

Mat takes a deep breath. “I was feeling a lot of things that day. Frustration over the season, how it ended, and then family stuff, more stuff with the surgery. And you were there every step of the way, and I appreciated it, I really did. I guess I just felt…overwhelmed? Overstimulated? There was so much to do and say and I felt like I just needed to be alone for a second, just to breathe.”

He takes another breath, his eyes furrowing as he tries to recall how it was for him back then, trying to say the right things the right way. “You weren’t clingy. You weren’t suffocating me. You weren’t too much, and your emotions weren’t too much. You were always enough, you were perfectly fine. I know you just wanted to be there for me, to support me and help me through what I was feeling, but I’ve never had anyone do that for me before. Every one I’d been with before just sort of…left me to deal with it on my own.”

Mat sighs, chancing a look at you. You’re sitting there, listening to him intently, giving him your full attention like you always used to do, allowing him the time and space to gather his thoughts and feelings.

When his gaze becomes too much, you find yourself tearing it away, staring at the floor of your bedroom instead. It stings, Mat realizes, not having you look at him like that, but he accepts it, knows he deserves it.

“I didn’t know what it felt like to have support like that.” He explains. “I wasn’t used to it, and I was wrong to think even for a second that you wanting to be there for me, or you wanting more from me once things got better, was you just wanting my attention, or you wanting anything other than to remind me that you loved me and that you were there to help me, but that you also had your own needs, and that they weren’t being met.”

He sighs, disappointed in himself. “You poured all of yourself into my cup, and I couldn’t return the favor when it mattered most to you. I’m sorry that I didn’t see that sooner, and it shouldn’t have taken me a month and a half to come to you and apologize. I thought I was doing the right thing, walking away, but I can see now that I wasn’t. And I’m selfish enough to admit that I don’t want to let you go.”

There’s a quiet sniffle from you, and Mat feels his gut twist uncomfortably. “I understand if you don’t want this,” he says. “If you don’t want us. I know I was an asshole, I know I took too long to get my shit together and tell you what a piece of shit I was, and probably still am. I still meant what I said, though. I do want you. I want us. And I know I’ll have to work hard to get you back, and I will put in the work, I swear it to you, if you’ll still have me.”

Another sniffle, but no words. He can see you swipe at your eyes, but no words come out.

His heart cracks in his chest.

“Please, baby.” Mat says softly. He gazes down at you, from where you sit on the edge of your bed, and wishes in his head that you’d just look at him. Even if it was just for a second, even if it would be the last time.

You shake your head softly, still cast to the side, those full lips beginning to pout, your bottom lip starting to tremble, and Mat feels like a knife just plunged into his heart and twisted.

Even when you two went through rough times, even when you broke up, he never made you cry.

And he wasn’t going to start now.

He takes a step forward, and then another, until he’s as close to you as he can be without touching you. He drops down to his knees then, and noticing there are tears beginning to well in your eyes, he decides he has to touch you.

Carefully, Mat reaches up with both hands, cupping your cheeks, and wiping gently at your tears with his thumbs. “I’m so sorry, baby.” He murmurs.

You let out a shaky breath. “It’s-”

“It’s not fine.” He insists. He applies gentle pressure behind his hands as he turns your head to face him. You blink when you meet his gaze, more tears falling onto Mat’s thumbs, and he wipes them away. When they keep coming, he lowers his hands a little and leans forward, gently kissing the tip of your nose, then the spots under your eyes, kissing your tears away.

“Tell me what I have to do, baby.” He pleads, moving closer, rising up a little on his knees to rest his forehead against yours. “I’ll do anything, I swear. Tell me what to do. Tell me what you need.”

There’s a small shake of your head, and he can feel you beginning to relax into him. “I don’t know.”

Before he can reason with himself if he should do it, if he’s lost the privilege to, he presses a soft kiss to your lips. He’s surprised when instead of shoving him away, or refusing his kiss, you kiss him back.

He can feel your hands move to his arms, gently pulling him forward, and he kisses you again, moving between your legs when you open them to press the two of you together. As the kiss deepens, he wraps one arm around your waist, banding the other across your back so he can gently grip the back of your neck, and your legs wrap around him, pulling him closer, your ankles locking at the base of his spine.

A small gasp escapes Mat when he feels you grind yourself against his shirt-covered abdomen, and the hand on the back of your neck creeps upward, grabbing a fistful of hair at the base of your skull, using it to anchor you both. At the tug of your hair, you moan, and Mat feels his whole body light up with electricity.

He murmurs your name against your lips, presses kisses there, to your chin, your cheek, working his way down to your neck, sucking little bruises into the skin. He releases your hair, trailing his hand down your arms, moves to your collarbone, sucking bruises, leaving little nips and bite marks as he goes, all the while you keep trying to tug at his hair to get him back to your lips.

Mat acquiesces once, brain going blank when your soft tongue grazes over his lips, and he accepts it, cupping the back of your head and sucking on your tongue lightly. Then, he’s pulling back just a little to kiss your lips, sucking your bottom one into his mouth, and then pulling it between his lips as he pulls away. You loosen your grip, but keep your hands in his hair, running the curls through your fingers.

“I’ll do anything.” Mat repeats the words against your skin, his hands running down your front, settling on your hips. Picking up from where he left off on your collarbone, he presses a sweet kiss to the skin before sinking his teeth in gently, enjoying your little moans of surprise before using his tongue to satiate the little pain from the wound. “Anything to make you forgive me.”

He starts to work his way down, leaving a trail of kisses on your chest, pulling the strap of your tank top off of your shoulder before pulling the neckline down, exposing the top of your breast and immediately sucking the skin into his mouth, hard.

You let out a small whine, arching your back and pressing further against his mouth, your hands tightening their grip in his hair and Mat groans from where he’s latched to your breasts.

He tugs at the hem of your tank top, and you both part for a small, torturous second, for you to all but tear it off, flinging it somewhere to your bedroom floor before his lips are immediately back on your skin, his hands cupping your breasts in both palms, kneading them in his hands before sucking on one nipple, then the other.

“I’ll do anything to have you again,” Mat begins, your nipple caught between his teeth. “To make you mine again.”

He rises up on his knees, his tongue purposely swiping over your nipple, your chest, your neck, and as he goes, your core throbs as you watch his tongue glide over your skin before he tucks it back into his mouth.

“I’m so fucking sorry baby,” he says when his mouth releases your skin. “I’m so sorry.”

His eyes lock onto yours and you meet his gaze straight on, watching, waiting, until he tilts his chin just so and you meet his lips, kissing him once, twice, three times before he presses his whole body against yours, hands disappearing from your breasts to cage your body against his once more.

His tongue slips into your mouth, hands roaming over your bare back before sneaking into your hair, grabbing a fistful at the nape of your neck and pulling your head backwards. He chases your mouth, biting your lip as he pulls away slowly, trailing his lips down your chin and then latching onto the particularly sensitive part of your neck, sucking the skin into his mouth hard.

You moan in response, can feel his tongue massaging over the spot as he continues to suck, and a sharp but delighted hiss leaves you when you feel his teeth scrape gently against the spot. His lips release you a moment later, and he eyes the blooming hickey with pride.

“Never should have let you go,” he murmurs, and then Mat’s arms move, releasing you from his caged embrace so his hands can coast down your sides, settling on your hips as he continues to leave bruising kisses on your neck, fingers dipping into the waistband of your silk sleep shorts.

“Can I take these off of you?” He murmurs against your collarbone, and you nod, lifting your hips just so, and Mat wastes no time in tearing the material down your legs and off of your body, flinging the things to some spot in your room.

Mat eyes your exposed pussy and can feel his heart thump against his chest. “God I missed you, missed seeing your pretty cunt every day.”

He moves to place his arms under your thighs, to pin them up next to you so he can devour you, right where you’re glistening and wet for him, but then you’re grabbing at his shirt. He thinks you want it off, so he complies, tearing it off and throwing it to wherever the rest of your clothes are, but then you’re beckoning him to you, reaching for him with your hands, and he smirks a little.

Mat presses a kiss to your pretty glistening heat, looking up at you from under his eyelashes. “I want to taste you baby, it’s been so long.”

You shake your head, a crease forming between your brows as you reach for him. He goes easily, reaching up to smooth that crease away beneath his thumb, and you cup his face, laying back on your bed and pulling him with you.

He climbs onto the bed, moving you both up the mattress until your head is resting on your pillows. He places his hands next to your face, propping himself up so he doesn’t crush you. Your legs wrap around his waist, pressing the two of you together as you kiss him, writhing beneath him like the hottest thing he’s ever seen in his life.

“It has been too long,” you say in agreement, lips ghosting over his as you speak. He can feel you trying to use the heels of your feet to push the band of his sweatpants down. “I need you now, Mat.”

“Okay baby, okay,” He acquiesces, repeating the word as he pushes his sweatpants and boxer briefs down just enough to free his cock, feels it throb once it’s pressed between the two of you, resting against the soft skin of your belly.

An excited noise trills from your mouth as you reach between you both, lining him up with your slick folds and grinding against him. The feeling is overwhelming, blinding Mat as he shuts his eyes and groans, rocking up against you, delirious with the friction. “Condom?” He asks belatedly, trying not to choke on his breath when the head of his cock nearly catches on the entrance to your pussy.

You shake your head emphatically, watching completely dazed as Mat reaches a hand between the two of you.

“No, it's just been you. Only you.” His head swims at your admission, and he dips a finger inside of you, then two, collecting the wetness before bringing his coated fingers to his mouth and sucking them clean. He groans, cock pulsing again as he grinds against you.

You reach for his face, chasing his mouth for a filthy open mouthed kiss that he’s happy to give to you.

“Had to taste you,” he explains. “Couldn’t wait another second.”

“Need you now, Mat.” You breathe against his lips, and he nods, pulling his hips back ever so slightly until the head of his cock rests against your entrance, and then he’s pushing forward, sliding inside of you slowly. Your breath catches in your throat, and Mat can’t look away, can’t stop watching the way your eyes glaze over before they roll back into your head.

“That’s it baby, take my cock.” He praises, eyes casting down to where he’s pushing inside of you.

You take every inch of him perfectly, as you always have, and once he’s fully inside, Mat gets in close. He’s on his knees, positioning his thighs under your own to both keep you propped up and open to him, and to keep himself close to you.

Your eyes are squeezed shut, your body consumed by the white out pleasure of Mat’s thick cock sliding into you. Your fingers are tangled in the sheets beneath you, back broken on an arch, mouth open in a silent cry. It’s been so long since you’ve taken him, and your body’s reacting like it’s the first time you’ve been with him all over again.

You’re so focused on his cock, on how full you feel, that you can barely register that he’s speaking to you, calling for you. His voice comes back to you as pleasure ripples through your body.

“-please honey. C’mon baby, breathe,” he encourages, cupping your face in his hands. “Breathe for me baby, you can do it.”

You inhale sharply, chest heaving, gathering air in your lungs as you can feel your body begin to adjust, the blinding pleasure of him being buried inside of you starting to replace the stretch and pressure of his welcomed intrusion.

“That’s it honey, that’s my girl.” He praises, thumbs caressing your cheeks as he slowly pulls his hips back, then pushes in again. His abdomen drags against your clit, and your eyes squeeze shut again, overwhelmed by everything Mat.

His hips move like that once, twice, three times before your orgasm shoots through you like a rocket. It’s so sudden, so unexpected that Mat nearly loses his pace. He has to bring his hands to the back of your knees and pin your legs down so he can continue to drive into you, flexing his hips and fighting past the tight squeeze of your cunt on his cock, fucking you through your orgasm just the way you love as you cry out.

Your name falls from his lips, completely dazed as he watches you. Your cry evens out into a whine, your grip on him loosening a little, and Mat bends his head to kiss you, laughing softly as when your eyes slowly blink open as he pulls away.

“Good baby?” He asks, and you can only manage a small nod in response.

Your blood feels like syrup in your veins now that he’s made you come once, and Mat loves you like this. Loves when you go soft and pliant under him, loves that you trust him to make sure he takes care of you like this.

“More,” you beg, and Mat nods, bending once for another open mouthed kiss, his tongue dragging over yours before you part.

“Love it when you come for me,” he says against your lips, moving his hips so he can fuck you with slow strokes. “Have to fight my way in every time, just to keep fucking you, just to make sure you keep coming all over me.”

“Mat!” You cry out, his hips driving into that spot inside of you that makes you see stars.

“You’re gonna deny me this?” He asks, a slight taunt to his voice, but you can hear past it, can hear the plea in his voice, the desperation. “You’re gonna take this away from me baby?”

You’re shaking your head before he can even finish the question. It’s no use.

While you were alone after dinner, you’d had way too much time to yourself, to think, to overthink, to mull over every single second from the fight, to the break up, to tonight, to slamming the door in Mat’s face.

You knew, somewhere in your heart, that you’d already forgiven Mat before he came back. That whatever his excuse, whatever his reasoning, you’d forgiven him for what had happened.

And it wasn’t until he came back asking for a second chance that you realized you’d give him that, too. You’d give him anything he asked for.

Because you loved him.

He drove you batshit crazy, but you loved him.

And you hadn’t exorcized him out of your life, not really. No matter how much you tried to pretend like you had.

Maybe it was your greatest flaw, but you were too forgiving of a person.

You couldn’t deny Mat a damn thing if you tried.

And you didn’t want to deny him, not anymore.

“Answer me,” Mat demands through clenched teeth, pressing down on the backs of your thighs as he begins to drive into you, merciless and desperate. “Am I going to have to fuck you like this is the last time?”

He punctuates his question with a particularly hard thrust, pushing a choked sound out of you as your pleasure starts to build and twist.

“I want to hear you say it,” he orders, pistoning in and out of you. You can only watch him, stunned.

It was no secret he was beautiful, no secret he was stunning. But only you got to see this, this moment where he looked like a god among men.

The sweat at his hairline, the pinched look of concentration, the veins along the muscles in his arms straining as he holds you down, holds you open so he can fuck you the way he knows you like, the way he pleases you best. The way his eyes flame as he watches your every move, tracks your face so he can be sure he’s bringing you nothing but pleasure.

“Tell me,” he insists, bending his head a little to press a kiss to the inside of your knee, and you don’t miss the way it still sounds like a plea. “Tell me you’re mine.”

You nod, brows pinching together as the delicious drag of his cock brings you higher and higher, closer to your next orgasm. Mat can tell, knows exactly what you need, but he won’t give it to you.

Not yet.

“You don’t get to come again unless you say what I want to hear.” Mat says, slowing his pace to emphasize his point.

A whine sounds in your throat, and he laughs a little, resting his forehead against yours. “I know baby, I know. I know exactly what you need, everything you need. In this bedroom, in this bed, and outside of it. I know everything that you need and I promise I’ll give it to you. But I need to hear you say it. Need to hear you tell me what I want to hear.”

You can only manage a whine, too focused on the slow drag of his cock, the way it feels like you can feel every hard vein and ridge of it slowly fucking into you. Mat shakes his head at your broken noises. “I know it feels good, baby, but you can do it. Use your words, pretty girl.”

“I’m yours.” It comes out as a whisper at first, too overwhelmed by the feeling of his cock, the friction of his solid abdominal muscles against your clit as he writhes against you slowly.

“You’re mine?” He repeats, not even trying to hide the bit of disbelief in his voice, the uncertainty. “Yeah? You’re mine? Look at me baby.” Your eyes lock onto his, and he holds your gaze as his hips grind into you. “Are you mine?” He punctuates his question with a particularly hard thrust. “Am I yours?”

You nod again, crying out “Yes!” when he starts to fuck you again. His pace is unrelenting, his hips unforgiving as he moves, driving his cock in and out of you, consistently hitting that spot deep inside you that makes you see the sun, the stars, the moon, the whole galaxy with each thrust.

“Tell me what I need to do.” He says to you. You blink lazily at him, lost in the way he fucks you, and he crowds his body in closer, dropping your thighs and cupping your face in his hands, using the muscles in his hips to fuck you deep, grinding his cock into you some more.

“What do I need to do baby?” Mat asks again, voice a little softer. His words are loaded, multiple meanings behind the question, and you know what to say to answer them all. He waits as patiently as he can, his mouth locking yours in a deep kiss as you start to squeeze down on him. He can tell you’re getting closer, can tell you’re right on the edge, but he still needs to hear you say it.

“Need you to make me come.” You answer finally, lips brushing against his as you speak. He nods, forehead brushing against yours from where it rests. His hand snakes between you both as he circles your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to the sensitive bud. Your back arches up in response, moving further into his touch.

“Come for me, pretty girl,” Mat pleads, keeping his hips in time with the circle he’s drawing against your clit, swallowing your cries with a kiss. “I wanna feel you come for me again.”

The dam breaks, your mouth opening on another silent cry as you breath gets caught in your throat, white light bursting as your eyes fall shut, cunt squeezing his cock impossibly tight.

Mat’s orgasm hits him like a freight train and he groans out loud, doing his best to keep his eyes open so he can watch every second of you coming all over him. His cock pulses, his come spilling inside of you in thick ropes, and he can barely breathe as your pussy squeezes around him, like you’re trying to pull him deeper inside of you.

When your orgasms subside, Mat goes to pull out of you so he can lay beside you, but your legs lock around his waist, and you pull him down to you, taking him by surprise with a sweet and gentle kiss. That gentle kiss morphs into the both of you making out lazily, you winding your hips, grinding against him while his cock rests inside of you.

You both remain like that for what feels like hours, but is probably more like fifteen minutes straight, Mat’s cock getting hard all over again, and you can feel your arousal slowly returning, ready for a round two, if needed. Eventually, Mat’s lips trail lazily from your mouth to your cheek, chin, neck, shoulders, collarbone, moving across your chest to reach your other shoulder, other side of your neck, and so on then back again, leaving kisses in each place as he goes.

After a little while longer, your post orgasm high subsides a little and your head starts to clear bit by bit. When you manage to come back to yourself, you realize Mat’s been murmuring his apologies into your skin, over and over, only pausing when he gets back to your lips, then resuming his apologies as his lips follow the little trail he’s made.

On what you think is his eighth loop around, you tangle your hands in the curls near the nape of his neck and tug a little, removing his lips from their place against your shoulder, dragging him to your mouth and kissing him again.

You roll the two of you so he’s on his back, his now half hard cock still nestled inside of you and your thighs bracketing his torso. Mat’s hands rest on your hips as he looks up at you, his lips a bright pink from all of the kissing. He looks dazed still, like he isn’t sure if this is all real, then his brow furrows, and regret slashes across his features.

He moves his mouth to form another apology, but you rest a single finger against his mouth, shaking your head softly.

“I know,” you tell him. “I know you’re sorry, baby.” Slowly, you start to wind your waist, watching Mat’s eyes roll into the back of his head, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips and trying his damndest not to thrust up into you. There’s a hiss that leaves his mouth when you squeeze, and a harsh breath is punched out of his lungs.

“I’m sensitive pretty girl,” he says, definitely not half hard anymore. Mat can’t tear his eyes away from where the two of you are joined together, where he can see his own come starting to drip down his cock, watching as you fuck it back into yourself as your drop your hips down.

“Just need one more.” You promise, can already feel your body chasing after the next orgasm as you move.

Mat nods, pupils blown wide as he watches. “Take what you need baby.”

And you do, planting your hands on his chest as you begin to bounce. Your nails dig into his skin a little, dragging them down his pecs and to his lower abdomen, watching in delight as red marks bloom in their wake, Mat groaning out loud, low and deep, his hips bucking up into you.

He always did love it when you scratched him up like this.

“More,” he pleads, and you slowly glide your palms back up to his collarbone, digging your nails in once more and dragging them back down in the same path. His body jerks a little when he moans, and then he’s grabbing your hips and sitting up, laying you down and getting onto his knees to fuck you all over again.

Your hands move to his ass, pulling him in deeper, your nails sinking into the hard muscled flesh and dragging up to his waist, and Mat’s thrusts become harder, sharper, and your orgasm rips through you like a lightning strike.

He follows close behind, fucking past the tight grip of your pussy and coming with a hoarse shout, pinning his hips against you as his cock throbs.

You move your hands then, cupping his face and pulling him down to you, allowing him to bury his face into your neck as he tries to recover. You both breathe deeply for a while, heated skin cooling as the time passes. Eventually, Mat presses soft kisses to your neck, then shoulder, before propping himself up above you by his hands.

“We should probably shower, shouldn’t we?” He suggests, and you nod. He carefully pulls out of you, but when you move to sit up, he gently pushes you back down, eyes glued to your pussy, where his two loads start to slowly leak out. Mat takes two fingers, gathering what’s coming out and pushes it back into you. Your back arches in response, a small hiss pushing through your clenched teeth.

He removes his fingers, bringing them to his mouth and sucking them clean before leaning over you again, capturing your mouth with his, sharing your combined release.

“Want some more?” He murmurs against your lips, and you nod, your eyes locked on one another as he reaches down, his fingers pushing back in, stroking you a couple of times before pulling them out. This time, when he brings his fingers back up, you grab his wrist before he can put them in his mouth, bringing them to your lips instead, sucking them clean. Mat’s eyes flutter, glazing over and you can feel his cock start to come back to life where it rests against your thigh.

Once his fingers drop from your mouth, he surges forward, kissing you again and you both fall back onto the bed, all thoughts of doing anything but making out leaving your minds for the next ten minutes.

Eventually, you manage to pull away, resting a hand on his chest as you part. “It’s getting late,” quickly adding, “we should probably shower now, so we can head to bed.” when you see Mat panic a little, thinking you were going to try to kick him out.

He smiles a little, nodding. He gets up first, reaching out a hand for you to take. Once you’re both upright, Mat looks down at you and smiles a little, brushing some hair away from your face then pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You go first, I’ll gather up the clothes and get the bed ready.”

You nod with a small smile, heading into your bathroom to pee and start the shower as Mat busies himself with gathering up your clothes, tossing them into the hamper in the corner of your room. He feels his heart thump in his chest at the familiarity of taking your decorative pillows off of your bed, putting them on their designated shelf in your closet, then fluffing the pillows you actually use before bringing your comforter down.

When he finally makes his way into your bathroom, he finds you standing under the spray of the shower, watching through the glass as the water cascades down your body.

A body he almost let go, a body he knows he’s honored to be able to worship again.

He wastes no further time in stepping into the shower with you, wrapping his arms around you to pull you in close, resting his cheek on the top of your head.

“I’ll do better, I’ll be better.” He swears to you.

Your hands rub up and down his back in a soothing pattern. “I know, Mat.” Your name falls off his lips in a soft murmur, and you pull away a little, tipping your head back just so to look up at him. “We’ll be okay,” you promise, nodding to reassure him.

He nods back, cupping the back of your head in his hand, resting it against his chest. “I know we will, baby. I’ll make sure of it.”

A week later, you wake up to soft and gentle fingers dancing up your bare back, winding into your hair and twirling a strand around it before working its way back down, gently stroking into the dip of your back.

The sheets are tangled around you, the curtains in your bedroom drawn to let the mid morning sunlight pour in, and Mat is sitting on your side of the bed, his hand moving to gently caress your face when he sees he’s managed to cajole you into opening your eyes.

“Good morning beautiful,” his voice is soft in the quiet of your room.

You smile in turn, rasping out your own “good morning” before turning onto your side to face him fully. “What got you up so early?

He shrugs, pulling your sheets down to your waist, running his hands over your skin. “Made you breakfast.”

“Breakfast?” You ask, playfully skeptic.

“I think I can manage a few eggs, bacon, and premade waffle mix pretty well, but that’s just my opinion.” He says with a small smirk, and your heart nearly leaps out of your chest.

The daylight surrounds him from behind, creating a beautiful glow around him and that’s a sign if you’ve ever seen one. You’ve always liked Mat best like this - soft and boyish in his features, but relaxed, a kind of comfort you’ve always felt from material things but never from a person.

It makes your heart skip a beat, and distantly you think, maybe this is what you’ll remember in the future - this moment, Mat surrounded by sunlight, soft skin, bed head, and waking you up for breakfast.

Maybe you’ll remember this exact moment and know, that’s when you realized you’d always be in love with him, and neither of you ever stood a chance at anything different.

#mathew barzal #mat barzal #mathew barzal x reader #mat barzal x reader #new york islanders #mat barzal smut #mat barzal angst #angst with a happy ending #angst with a hopeful ending #angst with smut #post break up #make up sex #hockey writing #hockey fanfiction #hockey blurb

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yelenasdog · 1 year

Text

vibrant, saccharine, his ☼ (fwb!mat barzal x fwb!fem reader)

genre: filthy smut, fluff, angst with happy ending

summary: pretending is getting harder, for both of them. and after a hard roadie, mat’s not sure if he wants to pretend anymore.

words: 8.7k (WOAH)

warnings: cursing, excessive use of parentheses, friends with benefits arrangement, smut, unprotected piv, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, blood (reader bit lip too hard oops!), pet names (baby, sweetheart, pretty boy), reader is described as having sisters and a dog, food mention, idiots to lovers, misunderstood situation, reader uses she/her pronouns, and i think that’s it.

a/n: when i started this, i originally was just writing a blurb and then it turned into a full ass fic with a plot?? and fwb??? idk man, im nervy to post this since ive never published for nhlers before but oh whale! and ty to @eminems-skittles for reading this for me and checking it over 🤍 love u

“You played so good, baby.” She breathed, welcoming him home with open arms.

“Not good enough, apparently.” He responded, letting her fingers card through his raven locks. Soft, freshly cut. She loved when he grew it out, but yet again it was him, so anything worked.

She sighed, letting her thumb fall to his cheekbone, knowing what he was referring to. It had been the last stop of the road trip, he’d had a hatty and despite making it to OT, it wasn’t enough in the shootout.

He’d had to wait an entire flight and car ride afterwards to see her, only giving her a brief text when he got off the ice (“We lost. Had a hatty. Fucking Toronto.”) (like she hadn’t stayed up to watch the game) and another when he landed.

And after so long of whatever the two of them had going on, she’d known better than to try to send him some long and winded attempt at a pick me up message. She settled for just responding “I’ll be here.” She didn’t need to say it though, he knew she’d be there.

She always was.

To anyone else it would’ve been sad, how she waited up for him, late nights spent lonely with just her and her dog, as he jetted around North America. In her mind, he was no doubt giving himself away to whatever random puck bunny threw herself his way.

Despite this, she was loyal, even though she had her suspicions about what he did when they were apart. And frankly, it wasn’t a part of the “deal” that they had to be exclusive, and it was none of her business. But truthfully, after so long, she couldn’t count on some washed up juniors player to give her even a fraction of the satisfaction he had.

So, she did this whole routine, whatever this was. She stayed up late watching his games, sitting on her couch in his sweatshirt he left. She wouldn’t admit it out loud, but whenever she wore it, she liked to pretend.

Pretend that she was an obedient girlfriend wearing her loving boyfriends sweater. That as she sat curled up waiting on the corner of the beat up black sofa, 3 coffees in at approximately 1:37 am, she would be rewarded for her efforts come morning time.

That her and said loving boyfriend would lounge around together in bed (after he woke her up in the best way he knew how, showing her how grateful he was. Like I said, she loved when his hair was long enough to tug on, and even though she endlessly made fun of his patchy stubble, she couldn’t deny how delicious it felt burning between her thighs. Especially after they’d spent so long apart.) Then they’d go and grab late brunch, holding hands under the table as they sipped mimosas, which were Mat’s guilty pleasure only her and the waiter knew about, before heading home.

Maybe then they’d FaceTime his mom back in Coquitlam, an early riser with the 3 hour time difference. Mat had felt bad interrupting her morning routine, but she’d never pass up an opportunity to talk to her boy and the girl who she hoped was her future daughter in law.

After they got off the phone, she’d tell him how much she loved his mom, how her cheeks hurt from smiling so much. He’d tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, watching as she leaned into his touch.

“Missed you, Mat.” She’d say, closing her eyes.

“I missed you more.” He’d respond, his voice nearly a whisper. Her eyes would flutter open, and he’d recognize the look in them immediately. He felt his blood rush, and suddenly their proximity, which he’d never get used to, was very obvious.

“Oh yeah?” She asked. “I doubt that.”

He swallowed, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. Her eyes hungrily swept over them, wanting nothing more than to lean forward and capture them with her own.

But patience is a virtue, she supposed.

“Want me to prove it, pretty boy?”

Words failed him, and all he could do was nod. He relaxed into the sofa, watching as she dropped to her knees in front of him. Her hands were on either thigh as he fought the urge to lay his tired head back onto the beat up pleather behind him. It had been too long, he thought. And he’d be damned if he was going to miss out on seeing her do what he’d only imagined in the shower, or over the phone for the past 16 days.

She reached her hands up from the muscle of his thigh up to his tummy, her cold hands shocking him as she reached under his sweatshirt- the same one she’d been wearing before.

Her hands drifted, down, down, down, to the waistband of those damn Lululemon shorts she’d got him for Christmas. He held his breath, watching as they danced around where he needed her most and then-

The doorknob turns, and she’s brought back to reality. Sleep had almost claimed her, iced coffee left abandoned on the coffee table, a ring of condensation already drying on the glass. She attempts to smooth out her hair, hoping that her brief almost-nap hadn’t left her too disheveled.

Not that he’d care.

She stood to greet him as he opened the door, hockey bag, and garment bag, and duffle bag, and backpack, and- God, did he really need all that- and suitcase, dropped unceremoniously as he entered the threshold. He kicked the huge bag to the side, and it landed right under where her keys and her leash for her old mutt, Warrior, hung from the wall.

Above the leash hung a picture of her and her sisters, with her running shoes on the floor beneath it for easy access. They were nearly squished by the gear, and if it had been anyone else’s shit crushing her 160 dollar sneakers, she’d be angry. But the sight of his bag near her shoes was so weirdly domestic, she could’ve cried.

She, yet again, was snapped out of her fantasy by the closing of the heavy door, watching as the man in front of her shuffled forward, immediately allowing himself to be held by her. His head fell to her shoulder, and rather than the usual clash of teeth and shoving to get to her room, (they never went to never his place after a roadie. He needed to be away from the constant reminders of it all for awhile, just to be surrounded by her) she simply dropped a chaste kiss to his temple, letting her arm drop from his hair to his broad shoulders, squeezing once, twice, three times, on either one.

He stood up, and she led him to her room, though he knew the way well enough. Her hand in his felt nice, comforting, even, and he wasn’t going to complain. In the beginning of the arrangement the two of them had, touches like that had been normal. But as time went on, the barely there brushes and gentle caresses stopped all together.

He wanted to say something, wanted to ask her what was wrong, if it was something he did. But when he was off the ice, Mathew Barzal was not a man who liked to push his luck. So he didn’t. He let the touches slip away, and took what he could get from her.

Which right now, was toeing off his shoes, and crawling onto the plush comforter of her bed. It smelled like that sparkly ”fairy dust” shit from Lush he saw sitting on her bathroom counter once, cotton candy and bubblegum infiltrating his senses. That, and her favorite floral perfume he was all too familiar with on her pillow. A combination of scents he usually would find too much, sickly-sweet. But it was her, and that alone made it the most soothing aroma he’d ever known.

Initially when he’d gotten off the ice, the adrenaline had been pumping, and his anger had been rampant. All he’d wanted was to get home to her, have his way with her. To have an outcome he could control.

He’d kept himself relatively calm in the locker room, not having any outbursts towards Ilya, or anyone for that matter. If any of the guys had noticed he was uncharacteristically quiet, they didn’t say anything.

That is, until the bus ride to the airport.

He had been typing out his text to her, (Hatty, lost in OT, Toronto, you know the one), when he had felt a pair of peering eyes. Sitting in the back of the bus, he’d thought he’d done well to avoid such glances, but apparently not.

“Y’know, you shouldn’t be sulking so much.” A certain French-Canadian spoke, the brunette man’s tired eyes lingering over Mat’s hunched over form.

If there was one thing he didn’t need right now, it was more pep talks from Tito. He’d had more than his fill in the locker room. And though he loved the guy, he didn’t need to be told again how he “did everything right” and had a ”killer game”.

Because he knows, and that’s partly why he’s so mad.

Partly. As the other part is the fact that he wants more than anything to come back to NY to her arms. He was exhausted at this point, and rather than having his way with her, he now just wanted to be welcomed home into those ridiculously cozy sheets. He wanted her to light up all those overpriced candles she loved so much from Bath and Bodyworks, and for Warrior to snuggle up by him, stinky dog breath be damned. He wanted her to turn on ”Miracle” in the back as white noise, and laugh as she repeated all the lines from memory. (He may be Canadian, but he can appreciate a heart warming story told by Kurt Russell when he sees one.)

More than anything, though, he wanted her. And not just for an hour or two before he inevitably dragged himself out of those silky sheets that felt heavenly on his back, leaving her sleeping beside him. She looked peaceful in those moments, and he often wondered what she dreamt of. If she was dreaming of him as he did of her.

Bottom line was, Mathew was the victim of a series of unfortunate events. And the man to his left could recognize that it wasn’t just the hockey that was bothering him. (Though, that whole situation did suck pretty bad, he’d admit.)

So when Anthony told him he shouldn’t be sulking, he flashed him a tight lipped smile and a nod, before looking out the window at the Toronto sunset. The oranges and pinks were stunning, and more than anything their vibrancy reminded him of her. The smile she’d give him in her post-orgasm glow, or of the orange blossom on the bottle of perfume on her vanity. Beauvillier’s gaze never faltered, though, recognizing the deep train of thought his close friend was experiencing.

The screen of his phone had begun to darken, the draft of his message just barely visible. Tito’s eyes quickly shifted from the screen and back up to Barzy, opening his mouth and pausing momentarily.

“Who’re you texting?”

Mat quickly turned off the device, the “click” sounding out in the quiet bus cabin, most of the Islanders players catching some shut eye or watching that new Game of Thrones spin off.

Personally, Mat didn’t get the appeal.

“Nobody, just… a friend I’m visiting tonight when we get back.”

Anthony’s eyebrows went up, making a face of understanding as he slowly nodded three times.

“A friend, huh?”

Mathew nods, taking his bottom lip between his teeth and letting it go. “Yup.” He adds softly for good measure, popping the p.

“You visiting a friend after a game like that, this late, hm?” Another pause. ”Must be an important friend.”

“Yeah.” His voice is soft again, compassion coming across his features and he thinks of her again.

“Well“, Anthony starts, popping in his earbuds and opening his phone to his Music app. “I’d say whatever’s going on with this friend seems worth talking to her about.”

Mat‘s head snaps up, and he scoffs, shaking his head.

“I didn’t say that it was a she-“

“You didn’t have to, buddy.” Tito winks in the most annoyingly-Tito way, and chuckles to himself. He then lays his head back onto the navy material behind him. Mat “hmph”s to himself, doing the same. He turns his phone back on again, going to the chat between the two of them. The still blinking cursor seems like it’s mocking him as he runs a hand over his face, hitting send.

If there’s gonna be any deep, emotional shit, it can wait until he’s not 2500 miles away.

7 hours later when he finally crashes through her front door, he swears the relief he feels mixed with the sense of dread it all might be over in an hour, gives him whiplash. But nonetheless, she welcomes him in, and she feels like home.

Warrior watches from the couch, his tail lazily wagging as he observes his owner greeting the man who occasionally slips him bacon from his Starbucks sandwich. His old man (old dog?) body doesn’t find the arrival of the hockey player worthy of leaving his nest on the sofa, as to him that’s all Mathew Barzal is. The bringer of bacon.

To Warrior’s owner, though, he was so much more.

The trek to the bedroom felt like it took an eternity, and as he laid on her bed, he couldn’t help but wonder if it would be a bad idea to push his luck for once. Risk ending it all to gain everything.

She laid down next to him, and he shifted, going from laying with his arms crossed under his head, to one next to her head, the other keeping him stable from his position on top of her.

Her hand crept up to push an unruly lock out of his eyes, and she leaned forward, and he met her halfway. They paused briefly, taking each other in after so long, before finally closing to distance.

He tasted warm, like cinnamon and something she couldn’t place, and she wondered if at the airport he’d gotten one of those pretzels she knew he liked so much. To compliment his psychopath reminiscent black coffee, of course.

His hand went from where it had been cradling her face down to rest on her hip. The soft touch elicited a whimper, and at that he pulled away, resting his forehead against hers.

She recognized that something was off, swimming around in that pretty little head of his. A small frown etched its way onto her face, and she lifted his chin up so he had no choice but to look at her.

“What’s wrong, Mat?”

He took in a shaky breath, looking over to his left, where the TV was on some random wallpaper, a sunset, he realizes. He scoffs, looking back at her.

“Can you just- can we- can I- fuck.” He mutters, slowly falling down so his body weight is nearly on top of her.

“Can you just… hold me?”

She swears she’s never heard him sound so broken.

“Yeah, baby, ’course. C’mere.” She replies softly, allowing him to fully rest on her. It was a miracle that he didn’t fully break down right there, at the feeling of her fingertips dancing over his skin, under his pushed up shirt. His nose was cold against her neck as he dragged it up against her to come to her cheek, pressing a kiss there. His eyes never opened, afraid that if they did, it would all just be another elaborate fantasy he’d created to pass the time.

“Is this a good idea?” Came her voice, cutting through the silence.

He sniffles. “What do you mean?”

“This. Us.” She says, not able to meet his gaze where he’s lifted his head.

“We’re going to get hurt. More than we already have.”

Oh. Oh, fuck this was happening right now. Mat sat up, feeling like a scared teenage boy. Damn you and the way you read people, Beauvillier. Maybe this would’ve been easier from 2500 miles away.

“We don’t have to.”

“What other option do we have?” She said, sounding defeated, like she already knows her answer and she doesn’t like it. “I-I can’t keep doing this no strings attached shit. Not when you do this. Not when you come here all beat up like some sad puppy.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. And he was.

“Don’t be. I should’ve known this would happen.” Her voice was soft, her eyes distant.

“That what would happen?” He questioned. She looked at him like he had two heads.

“That you’d leave, Mat. That this whole pretending bullshit wouldn’t be enough for me.”

He leaned forward again, catching her off guard.

“I’m not leaving you. I’d never leave you.”

She looked away briefly, mentally cursing herself for being so emotional as tears began to well up in her eyes. He fell to her side, forcing her to meet his gaze.

“Do you really want this?” She asked, the tears rolling down her face illuminated a hue of pink from the salt lamp on the bedside table. Mathew reached out a hand, dragging his thumb over the droplet. He hated that she was crying, but fuck, she sure looked pretty while doing it.

His answer came without thought, he’d done enough of that on his way over.

“Yes. I want you in every way, if you’ll have me.”

A small smile came onto the corners of her face, and she nodded, shortly at first, but more exaggerated as they started laughing, a small “yeah?” escaping from Mathew. She responded with the same, and he took that as his sign to reach forward, closing the distance between them.

And like all the times before, they fell into their routine, her hands going down to his hips, lifting the gray material of his shirt over his head. He returned the favor, the two of them moving in sync as she lifted her hips and he gently slid off her shorts. He ran his palms along her bare thighs and she shivered at the feeling, a reaction that didn’t go unnoticed by Mathew.

“I missed you, y/n.” He admitted, running a hand through his, now, unruly hair.

Another vibrant smile came across her face, easing whatever nerves Mat had left over from his confession.

“I missed you more, Mathew.”

He shook his head, dipping down to leave sloppy kisses on her neck. Taken aback, she let a shaky breath escape. He pulled back, satisfied with the response he’d pulled from her.

“Not possible.”

In a moment of boldness (and a slight hope to allow a fantasy to come to life) she challenged him.

“Prove it, then.”

His eyes darkened, then, and he surged forward. Her remaining clothes, which was just his sweatshirt and a flimsy cami, were gone in an instant. She was left in just a pair of black undies, Mat nearly cumming on the spot at the sight, like he’s some horny teenager. His apparel soon joined the growing pile on the floor, as she made a remark about how it wasn’t fair he was still so covered.

She shamelessly raked over his naked form, save for the black boxers, with his firm muscles, sore from the roadie, prominent as ever. She might’ve been drooling, she wasn’t sure. He smirked, the effect he had on her not lost to him.

The two began to kiss again, and there was no other way to describe it other than that it just felt right.

Mathew wasted no time, allowing his hand to trail down and cup her clothed heat, his thumb passing over her clit and past her entrance with a feather light touch. She shivered, her hips lifting up to chase the brief sensation. He pulled her panties to the side, teasing her entrance with his middle finger.

It was immediately covered in her slick, as was the black fabric he’d moved aside. It made him groan just from the sensation alone, making her chuckle at his behavior. Her laugh soon was cut off as he sunk the finger in, giving her no time to adjust, not that she needed it with how ready she was for it, before adding another.

His palm just barely grazed her begging clit as he pumped in and out slowly. And as she continued to lift her hips trying to feel him deeper, push his hand closer to her clit, she fully expected him to push her down and put her in her place.

But this whole thing was about showing him how much he missed her, how much he appreciated her. To show her that he was staying. And him staying meant that he’d have plenty of chances in the future to be an insufferable tease, but right now wasn’t one of those times.

“Matty, please-“ it was more of a breathy whine, not intelligible to an untrained ear. But thankfully for her, that wasn’t Mat.

“You want more, baby?” He questioned, knowing the answer. She nodded, hair splayed around her like a halo on the pillow. She was still illuminated from the TV screen and the salt lamp, making her look like an angel of sorts, not of this world.

“Look at me then, sweetheart. Wanna see that I’m makin’ you feel good.”

Her eyes that met his were glazed over and doe like, and it melted Mat’s insides at just one look. He did his best to push down the mushy feeling that arose, before realizing he didn’t have to anymore. He could feel as sickeningly in love as he wanted, no consequences.

“You’re so beautiful, baby. So needy, fuckin’ perfect girl.” He remarked, adding in a third finger. She let out a borderline pornographic cry, and Mat picked up his pace. His gaze only faltered from her face, contorting in pleasure, back to where he was pumping in and out of her, unable to resist the urge to watch in amazement.

Though her legs were flailing, going from propped up to sliding down and spread, rustling the comforter, she somehow had enough mind to reach a hand down. She attempted to run tight circles around her clit, but not before her hand was pinned to her side by the center above her,

“No, baby. Lemme.”

His range of motion was wider and his thrusts harder as he curled his fingers to perfectly hit that spot inside her that made her see stars, fully trailing his hand over her sex. He repeated the action again, and again, and again- and fuck, she didn’t know how long she’d go on like this but she never wanted the feeling to stop.

He felt her tighten around him, and he picked up his pace, knowing she was almost there.

“Mat!” she managed to get out between strangled moans and panting breaths. He leaned down, kissing below her ear on the one spot he knew drives her crazy. She was halfway thinking, well, less than halfway with her state at the moment, that he would cruelly pull his hand away as she reached her peak. So she clamped her thighs together in an attempt to trap him, subconsciously more than not.

It didn’t stop him from grinding his palm against her like he had been, leaning down to capture her lips with his in a searing kiss.

Everything at once was just so much, the obscene sounds coming from both their mouths and her wet heat, the feeling of Mathew’s bare skin on top of her, the feeling of warmth radiating from his body, and oh my God, after so long it’s fucking finally happening-

He felt as her chest seized and she pulled away from the kiss, her head slamming back before falling to the side. She cried out, her orgasm hitting her like nothing had before.

He found her lips in the chaos beneath him, his hand parting her thighs as she went lax, lazily pumping in and out as she rode out her high. Her slick coated the inside of her thighs, and Mat pulled away momentarily and she whined, like the little brat she was allowing herself to be.

He only smirked, leaning down to kiss on her collarbone, letting his tongue sweep over the seemingly shimmering expanse of skin before him. He moved further down, savoring the taste of her, how it felt to be so close to her. No guards up, no shields, no screening involved.

She moved her ring clad hands to run fingers through his locks, that fucking smile coming across her face. He looked up from where his hands were holding either side of her waist, his fingers digging into the soft flesh just enough to not make it hurt, but to say “I’m here. I’m not leaving.” His chin rested above her bellybutton, and he felt suddenly seen, bashful almost. He continued his trail down in a half assed attempt to hide his face, her breath hitching when he made it to her mound.

Her breath barely returned to her as he skipped over where she thought he was headed, instead opting to take her right leg over his shoulder, moving down the expanse of it to her ankle. He brought his eyes to meet hers, and a tender hand ran up and down the distance of it. He kissed the inside of her ankle, making his way up to the skin where her thigh met her already aching sex.

He lightly nudged his nose against the area, before attaching his lips. He started sucking on the skin there, licking her clean. Satisfied, he moved to the other side, beginning his good work.

“Mat,” she broke her silence, her voice splintered and low, “don’t tease. Please.”

He raised his eyebrows, seemingly in jest.

“I think we’re a little far gone from teasing, eh?” He asked, and truthfully, one mind blowing orgasm later, they were.

She chuckled, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever hotshot.”

“New nickname?” He questioned. “I like it.” He huffed, returning to his place between her legs. “But I fucking love this pussy, baby.”

And with that, he dove in. He immediately groaned at what he had found. (Which, obviously, caused her to tug at that perfect head of hair, eliciting another groan.)

If possible, she had become even wetter with the mix of his spit and her nectarine juices. It dripped down his chin, and he wanted to stay there forever. He’d found solace there, he thought. No Maple Leafs, no Tito, no hatty that meant jackshit in the end.

Just her and her consummate being. Vibrant, saccharine. His.

He wasn’t sure how long he spent drawing her closer and closer to the edge, but somewhere between repeated chants of praises and whatnot, he’d slipped.

“Fucking love this cunt, fucking love you-“

He hadn’t realized what he said, and if he had, he didn’t seem to care. But his words alone were enough to rip an unassuming orgasm from her. She didn’t allow herself long enough to think about if he meant to say it or not, or even to ride out the aftershocks rolling through her nerves. She grabbed him by the shoulders, forcing him away from her glistening cunt and up to where she connected their lips.

A small sound of surprise, not reluctance, escaped from where they were joined. Her hands came to cradle either side of his face, and Mat thinks that he might’ve cried from the tender action. He wasn’t sure, but he wasn’t going to ask. Hey, it’d been a long day.

“You mean it?”

He realized what he had said, then, eyes wide and somehow his face even more flushed than before. He considered lying, like when Tito had asked who he was texting and he’d said a friend.

But where would that leave him, he wondered?

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, I did.” He added after a beat of silence.

And in those few moments nothing had seemed scarier.

Not when he was 18, getting skipped over by teams in the draft, and that voice in the back of his head had told him that, somehow, everyone had collectively decided to skip Mathew Barzal. Not when he was 19 playing in his first game for the Isles, having to follow up Auston Matthews first NHL game where he had four goals. Four. Fuck.

No, all that was topped by this. By the same fear he’d had earlier when he’d been on the bus, or when he’d arrived at her apartment.

But all of that fear was dissolved in a second after her laugh sounded out in the small bedroom, her eyes crinkling at the edges. She pulled him down towards her, and the sound of her laughter pulled a radiant smile from the hockey player that he felt like hadn’t seen the light of day in a long time.

She rolled over on top of his chest, leaning forward and throwing her arms around his neck. His chain was glinting, now, in the light she had previously been bathed in, and it caught her eye as it rested against his milky complexion.

“You looooove me.” She regarded in a sing-song voice, and Mat rolled his eyes despite the smile growing on his face. She leaned down, and Mathew’s grip on her bare hips tightened, all too aware of the wet spot left on his stomach from her leaking sex.

She mirrored his previous movements down his chiseled body, a regular Adonis in his own right. She left open mouthed kisses, the wet patches from them adding to the thin sheen that covered his body. She made her way down to his boxers, the obvious tent making her stifle a laugh. He caught it though, of course, and rolled his eyes for what seemed like the millionth time.

“Laugh it up, babe. Laugh at my misery.” He commented, to which she only shook her head.

“Patience is a virtue, Mathew.”

“You’re one to talk.”

Well, he had a point there.

So rather than talk, she decided she’d put her mouth to good use. She pulled down his boxers at a painstakingly slow rate, watching as his cock slapped up against his stomach. Her mouth watered at the sight, the tip red and weeping, begging to be attended to. He kicked off the boxers, paying no mind to how they slipped onto the floor, forgotten. She didn’t either, as she was sure he had to have some extra in one of his gazillion bags sitting in her entry way.

Her nails scratched down his stomach, angry red lines puffing up and decorating around the expanse of his skin. They were accompanied by freckles and marks and scars that she could have mapped together with her eyes closed. She knew Mathew like the back of her hand. And with that, came knowing how to make him come undone in her hands.

She started leaving small kisses at the base of his shaft, before swiping the bead of precum from his head down to the rest of him. She pumped her hand a few times, and Mathew let out a strangled moan. She thought he couldn’t get any louder, feeling bad for her neighbors at whatever hour in the night it was, but she was quickly proven wrong.

She licked a long stripe from the bottom to his tip, before taking as much of him into her mouth as she could. She bobbed her head a few times, jacking off whatever she couldn’t fit with her hands. She hollowed her cheeks, and the rise and fall of Mathew’s chest quickened. The sound he let out was animalistic, and it sent another wave of arousal through her body. She moaned involuntarily, and the feeling caused Mathew to buck his hips.

“You’re doing so good, baby. ‘M not gonna last with you going at me- shit- like that.”

He brought a large hand down to the side of her face, lightly stroking her cheek. It was a moment of wholesomeness that reminded them what they were now, what he had said.

Mat could tell she was tired, her pace decreasing. The look in her eyes never changed, though. And as he went to speak to tell her it was okay, and she didn’t have to (and because since it had been so long, he was scared he’d bust his load if she wasn’t careful), she pulled off.

A string of saliva followed, and the sight looked like a thumbnail of a shitty porno. Her eyes were droopy and glazed over, and Mat’s hypothesis was proven correct.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You don’t have to finish. Let me take care of you.” He repeated his sentiment from earlier. She only shook her head, continuing to jack him off with her hand. Oh. He thought. That’s not what I was expecting.

“S’okay, Matty. Wanna make you feel good.”

She ran her thumb over his tip again, her glassy and swollen bottom lip hanging ajar as she concentrated. The moans he was letting slip free could only be described as pathetic, the 190 pound hockey player putty in her hands.

“I’m gonna cum if you don’t, God, baby, shit! I-If you don’t stop.”

And then she pulled her hand off, and he let out a quick breath at the momentary relief, if that was even the right word. But it was short lived, and she managed to hoist herself up, dragging her folds along his cock, before stabilizing herself with hands on his chest. He slid inside of her, and the sounds they both let out echoed off her walls.

She started moving, and then it was “You’re fuckin’ amazing, you know that? So fuckin’ amazing. My girl, my perfect girl.” He rambled, the events of just that day alone scrambling his mind trying to keep up. Similarly to how she felt earlier, everything was just too much for the poor man. She felt like Heaven around him, and he watched in awe from below her as she moved, enamored by the woman he loves.

As she became more and more tired, her movement slowed, reduced to her grinding herself down on his cock. Mat was barely hanging on, trying to make it last as long as possible. He could tell she was close too, as she squeezed him like a vice, and put her energy into picking up her pace.

“Fuck, Matty. Feels s’good. Love you- shit! I love you so much, baby.” She told him, her eyes closed and her face screwed up as she chased her high. But something snapped in Mathew at her confession, and with a quick “fuck” under his breath, he flipped the two of them without ever leaving her.

He was relentless.

He slammed in and out, and at the sudden change in position and pace, she was blindsided. She thrashed around him, her hands everywhere at once. Her hair, his hair, grasping at his shoulders, scratching down his back. She settled for his biceps, as his hands were planted. One on the right side of her head, the other gripping her hip bone so hard, she was sure it’d bruise.

“It’s only ever been you, baby. I promise you.”

“Shit, Mat!” She cried, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. She loosely draped her legs around his middle, allowing him to reach new depths within her. He was fucking her senseless, and they fucking loved it.

“It’ll only ever be you. I love you. Fuck, I love you so much, Y/n.” His hair hung in his eyes as he fought to keep them open. He shook it out of his eyes, wanting to see her as she came in all her glory.

“Love you, Mat. So much, baby. You have no idea.”

His pelvis snapped harder against her, just barely reaching up and grazing her clit in the most exquisite way. The rope in her stomach began to tighten for the third time that night, so close to breaking she could almost taste it.

Actually, she could taste it, she realized. She had been biting down so hard on her bottom lip she could taste the metallic tang on her tongue, and fuck, it was all the more delectable.

“Mat!” It was another exclamation, followed by more babbles. “‘S too much, Matty, can’t do it.” Her voice was small, and despite the nature of the statement, Mat felt his heart flutter.

He shook his head. “Yes, you can, baby. I know you’re tired, but you can do it, Y/n. You’ve got another one in you sweetheart, pull through for me. I’ve got you.”

And never one to disappoint, especially not her Mathew, she did.

She came, and she came hard. But it wasn’t dramatic the way you’d think it’d be, at least not outwardly. Her breathing stopped, her toes curled, and her nails dug into the skin on Barzy’s arms. It wasn’t accompanied by a loud scream, or a drawn out, high pitched moan. It was a breath of relief that left her when she came, her head falling to the side and her eyes closing. A quiet moan of Mat’s name, and she was clamping down on him.

The sweet way his name fell off her tongue, mixed with how she was so damn tight around him as she came, and he was done for. It triggered his own orgasm, and he felt the same feeling of peace wash over him that she had as he spilled into her. He fucked her through it, soft thrusts calming whatever aftershocks they both were experiencing. She had gone limp under him, her eyes opening as she gave him the sweetest smile he’d ever seen.

He stayed in her, lowering himself onto his side, then maneuvering them so she was laying on him. They were a cliché and they knew it, but they couldn’t seem to care. A few moments passed in comfortable silence, before it was broken by Mathew’s scratchy post-sex voice. Swoon.

“So,” he started. She raised a brow, wondering where he was going with this.

“You looooove me, too, then?” He mimicked her tone from earlier, and they broke out in a fit of laughter as she slapped his arm and rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. I guess you’re alright.” She feigned annoyance, propping herself up on her right arm as she faced the man she loved. Mat scoffed, blowing a strand of hair from his forehead. “Just alright? You’re crazy, lady.”

“But you love me.”

Not a beat passed before “I do.”

She smiled softly, lifting up a hand to run a finger along his jaw. He caught it with his own, never breaking eye contact as he kissed her palm. Again, swoon.

“I know.” She responded, wanting to stay in that moment forever. But, she knew that if she stayed where she was too long, she’d more than likely fall asleep in record time. So, she pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth, which he turned to catch before she could go, pulling her back for a “real” kiss at his protest.

A petulant child, that’s what he is.

She pressed one more to his lips for good measure, before pulling himself off of him. They both let out disgruntled sounds at the sudden losses, and it took all her energy to sit up on the edge of her bed. She felt a strong jaw on her shoulder, and she leaned into it.

“Where you goin’? Leaving me all alone isn’t very nice.” She could hear the frown in his voice, and even though she knew he was joking, it tugged on her heartstrings that little bit.

“Gotta pee.” She said, standing up and walking towards the connecting bathroom. “Sorry baby, no UTIs for me.”

The frown stayed cemented on his face.

“You should be grateful,” she threw over her shoulder, shutting the door. “No UTIs, more fucking, yeah?”

He chuckled at her bluntness, deciding to go and get her some water and maybe a snack. Shit, he didn’t know. What was he supposed to do? Usually when they fucked before, her or Mat would be out the door as soon as possible, still trying to ward off those pesky feelings. But now, he was allowed to feel said pesky feelings, and he’d be damned if he fucked it up.

So, snack. And water? Yeah, water, for sure. He was hungry and thirsty, why wouldn’t she be. He had no idea the way around her kitchen, nor how to, er, actually make anything, so this would be rough. But, first, a pit stop.

He would have walked butt-ass naked into her kitchen, really, but then he remembered Warrior was out there and he didn’t have a need to traumatize that dog any further than he already was.

(It was one time, okay? He didn’t know she had a dog, he’d been asleep on his bed by the TV when they’d gotten to her place. And at the time, Mat was too preoccupied to notice.)

He looked around on the floor for the offending clothing item, slightly grossed out when he did finally find them. It was only for a minute, tops, is what he told himself, as he pulled on the boxers from earlier in the night.

He tiptoed, for literally no apparent reason, through the dark apartment until he found the bag he was looking for. He grabbed what he needed from it, struggling with the zipper while trying to close it, before giving up. On his way back to her room, he gave Warrior a nod and smile, and he swore the mutt gave one back. Okay, actually, on second thought, he remembered the clock on her microwave saying it was 3:18 AM, so, maybe he didn’t.

It was late and he just had the best sex of his life with the woman he loves. Give him a break. So what if he’s delusional and thinks he can communicate with dogs? At least he’s pretty.

When he gets to her room, he pulls on the newer, clean, pair of boxers, setting the other pair he grabbed from his bag on the bed for her when she got out of the bathroom, along with an Islanders shirt that he’d secretly always wanted to see her in. Too soon? Maybe. But after so long yearning for everything domestic and wholesome and good that he was convinced he didn’t deserve with her, he was indulging a little bit. So sue him.

His next stop, snacks. And water, can’t forget the water.

The water was easy enough, he got lucky. He grabbed her “emotional support cup” as she’d called it before when she thought he wasn’t listening, and went over to the fridge. He got a few ice cubes and put them in, and then went over to her Brita. He stood there, pressing down on the little lever, watching the steady stream of water into the cup. It was almost laughable, how he stood there in the dead silence, concentrating so hard. He was determined not to somehow do something wrong, even though it was just pouring a cup of water. Cute.

He checked the pantry once the cup was full, with the lid safely screwed on top. The rustling about caught the attention of Warrior, who hopped down from where he’d been on the couch, moseying on over.

Mat, who still was slightly wary of Warrior, despite the fact the dog would cause him no harm, shook his head at the mutt.

“Sorry, buddy. I don’t have anything for you.”

He turned his head and gave him puppy dog eyes, pulling out all the stops. Mat sighed, looking back to the pantry. He saw a box of Milkbones, and looked back to Warrior, who was egging him on. (They’re telepathically connected, remember?)

He reached in the box, pulling one out, and tossing it down. Warrior gratefully accepted, taking his treat and waltzing off to his bed to chow down. Mat looked in the pantry, going to close the box, when he sees it, his saving grace.

White bread, hallelujah.

He can do toast. Mathew Barzal is a totally capable 25 year old man who can make toast. So, he takes the bag, going over to the toaster. And-

One look at all those fancy buttons, and he’s tapped out.

Okay, it’s okay, he can remember seeing a vending machine on his way into her apartment. Yeah, he remembers her telling him about having to sign off on some HOA form for it, even though she was just renting. Apparently, her landlord hadn’t signed, which made it her job. Whatever, that’s irrelevant.

He figured that there wouldn’t be anybody out in her hallway at 3:23 AM, so he grabbed his coat with his wallet, shrugging it on over his bare back. His slides were somewhere in his hockey bag and the last thing he wanted to do was stink up her whole place by opening that Pandora’s box. So, barefoot it is.

He does his best to sneak out the apartment, leaving the door ajar as he makes the short walk to the vending machine, grateful his search was over. He let out a long sigh as he stood, wondering what to get her.

For himself he decided on a bag of cool ranch Doritos, and a bag of those tiny cookies. For her, he racked every corner of his brain for potential options, before realizing how long he’s taking, and how long he’d been gone. So, not wanting to waste any more time, he elected for one of everything.

He punched in the numbers and paid, attempting to grab them from the machine. Trying to pick up the few that had fallen, he leaned down. His attention was called elsewhere by the ”click!” of a door a few units down. His head snapped to the source of the sound.

“You’ve got to be shitting me.” He muttered under his breath upon what he saw.

A man probably not much older than himself, suitcase and backpack in tow, donned in, you guessed it, a New York Islanders hoodie a lá number 13.

The man had yet to notice the star player down the hall from him, and Mat was considering just making a run for Y/n’s place. But either way, he would have to go past the man, or the man would have to go past Mat to get to the elevator. Maybe he’d take the stairs? He hoped. Shit, who was he kidding, he’s not taking the stairs.

Starting his walk over, the unnamed Islanders fan lifted his head, stopping in his tracks. His jaw dropped, and if it wasn’t purely because of being in the presence of Mat Barzal, he had a hunch what it was.

Said hunch, was that it was due to the fact Mat Barzal was standing in front of him, in an apartment complex definitely not boujee enough for him to be living in, at 3:25 in the morning, naked, except for boxers and some fancy trench coat, holding several bags of snacks.

Mat would’ve laughed at the guys face, but he thought he wasn’t quite in the position to do so.

“Hey, man. How’s it going?” And a stupid bro nod, was all Mathew could manage.

While he was facing that debacle, Y/n was having one of her own.

After she’d gone to the bathroom, she decided to try to do her nighttime routine, too. She put on her robe from where it had been hanging in her bathroom, beginning her little routine.

When she emerged 10 minutes later, Mat was nowhere to be seen.

His bags were still by the door, albeit one of them hastily thrown open. Was he leaving and had gotten some clothes and an Uber? Did he have last minute regrets? The door to her place was left open, and an overwhelming sadness began to take over her system. As the tears began to well up, she looked over to Warrior, only to notice him chewing on… a milkbone? How the hell did he get a milkbone?

She sniffled, wiping her sleeve under her nose. She sat down on her couch, looking at where her iced coffee from earlier was still sitting, ¾ of the way empty. The tears started to flow freely again after that, and she stood up, deciding that she should at least shut the door. She didn’t need to deal with a robbery, too.

As she stood and turned, she was met with a very discombobulated and very underdressed Mat trying to shove his way through the door.

“Have a good flight, man. Enjoy Miami!” Mat called over his shoulder to what sounded like her neighbor Gian, based off of the “Thanks bro, good luck this season!” she heard back.

She slapped a hand over her mouth, trying to not bust out laughing at the sight in front of her. Hearing her snickering, he looked up gesturing to the bags in his arms.

“Hungry?” He asked, the smile on his face falling when he saw the red around her eyes. He dropped all the snacks on the couch to his right, making his way over to where she stood.

“Hey, hey, why’re you crying? What’s wrong sweetheart?” He questioned, and his sincerity made her smile widely.

“Nah, I’m all good, don’t worry about it. Just thought you’d left, that’s all…” A pause. “But I see now that you just had a case of munchies, apparently.”

He wrapped his arms around her shoulders pulling her towards his chest. His chin rested on her head, and she closed her eyes, inhaling his scent.

“No, baby. God, no, I’m not leaving. I just wanted to do this whole thing right, and I thought you might be hungry, and I tried to make toast- your toaster is really complex by the way,”

She pulled away from him as he rambled, her smile reaching her eyes.

“And I filled your water and set out clothes for you and I really did try, baby. I didn’t mean to fuck anything up, really.”

She giggled again, taking hold of the shoulders of his jacket, shrugging it off. She folded it over the back of a barstool, then turned back towards Mat.

“And Gian?”

“Oh yeah, he’s cool. Ran into him in the hallway and introduced myself. Going to visit some family in Miami.”

She raised an eyebrow, nodding her head in understanding. She stepped closer, wrapping her arms around his middle.

“So, am I gonna have to compete with him for your attention now whenever you come over?”

He reciprocated the action, one hand coming up to rest on her chin.

“I mean, he’s gonna be gone for two weeks, but after that…” he shrugged, trailing off. She hummed, and he smiled at her, leaning forward. He searched her eyes for any remaining upset, unable to find any, before he pressed his lips to hers. It was sweet and gentle, with not a hint of rush or fervor.

When they pulled apart, she was smiling again. Her hands found their way back to his neck.

“And baby, you’re amazing. You didn’t fuck up anything at all, I promise.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” She whispered, leaning in again to connect their lips. She let her tongue sweep over his bottom lip, biting down just barely before pulling away. She pushed down the sleeves of her robe just a bit, exposing her shoulders. Y/n took his hand, and started walking backwards, letting it slowly slip out of hers as she did.

“Come on, hotshot. Come to bed. Snacks will still be there in the morning.”

She smiled again briefly, before walking towards her room, the robe slipping down as she went. Mat stood watching her in total awe, glued in place, until he was knocked out of his trance.

“Hurry up! And lock the door, too, please!”

He had never obliged to anything quicker in his life.

(And as for the snacks, they were not still there in the morning, thanks to a certain mutt who managed to rip open all the packets on the couch. The next morning was spent at the vet, who had told them Warrior would be fine, just fat. The vet had only said this, though, after Mat had consoled a crying Y/n, who was under the impression he was going to be poisoned.

The rest of the day after that? Making up for lost time.)

FIN.

YO idk if that was good or not i kind of feel like i imagined writing the entire thing and it was a fever dream. but. anyway! if you liked it, be sure to reblog <3 thank u i love u! go eat some protein and drink some water.

xx, hj

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miracleonice87 · 1 year

Note

#18 - Paris: Barzy

from m’s midnights prompt list

cw: 18+; gets just a lil spicyyyy at the end

a belated birthday treat for @kerwritesthings 🫶 enjoy!

18. Paris: “Privacy sign on the door / and on my page and on the whole world / romance is not dead if you keep it just yours”

---

“Wakey wakey, Sleeping Beauty.”

You woke to Mat’s gentle whispers and feathery kisses to your upper back and down your arm, sighing blissfully as your senses finally roused. You turned onto your back to find him resting on his side, freshly showered and donning the plush, white resort bathrobe.

“Good morning, handsome,” you greeted him, your hand coming to rest on his stubbly cheek, thumb stroking his jaw.

He beamed, gathering your fingers in his and pressing kisses to each one. “Hated to wake you, but our brunch reservation is in about an hour,” he told you.

You nodded, arching your back to stretch your sleepy muscles before sitting up in bed, tucking the covers around your bare chest.

“What time is it?” you asked, rubbing your eyes as Mat chuckled, flopping onto his back.

“Just after 10,” he answered.

Your eyes went wide. “Jesus,” you muttered. You reached for your phone on the nightstand on your side of the bed, then snuggled back into Mat’s side as you turned off “Do Not Disturb” mode for the first time in 36 hours and scrolled the bevy of notifications that immediately appeared on your screen.

10 missed calls

4 missed FaceTime calls

13 iMessages

Bestie - iMessage: do you wanna grab drinks later??

Bestie - iMessage: bitch why tf is your do not disturb on in the middle of the day

Mom - iMessage: Hi! Just checking in because I haven’t heard from you today. Hope all is well! XOXO

Sis - iMessage: Did you watch Vanderpump tonight?

Sis - iMessage: HELLOOO

Sis - iMessage: I’m going to bed, better wake up to a text from you so I know you’re not dead in a ditch somewhere

Broski - iMessage: where tf are you, dude

Sis - iMessage: Guess not. Call meeee pls

Bestie - iMessage: your sister called me this morning, you better tell one of us you’re alive

Broski - iMessage: yooooooooo???

Bestie - iMessage: are you with your secret boyfriend? your sister just asked me and I’m pretty sure she’s onto something

Mom - iMessage: Your sister mentioned that you might be with a guy. If that is the case, PLEASE be careful!!! XOXO

Sis - iMessage: Oh you are SO completely with that dude

“Your family think I kidnapped you?” Mat asked behind you, ghosting his fingertips back and forth across your shoulders, sending a tingle down your spine.

You breathed a laugh and locked your phone. “Little bit,” you answered, rolling over onto him, belly to belly. “Let ‘em,” you proclaimed, tossing your phone to the end of the bed.

“Whatever you say,” he said, allowing his hands to travel down your back and come to rest on the curve of your ass, giving each of them a hearty squeeze.

“You left the privacy sign on the door, right?” you whispered, rolling your hips into his and combing your acrylic nails against his scalp slowly, suggestively.

He swallowed hard, then let out a shaky breath through pursed lips. “Y-yeah.”

You gave a single nod, then lowered your head to whisper, “good,” in his ear before biting at the shell of it, causing him to shudder beneath you.

You chuckled devilishly, starting to shimmy your way down the mattress, leaving kisses along his body in your wake.

“Mmm, I think we’re gonna be late for brunch,” you told him softly, trailing your nails down his abs.

The six-foot-tall, two-hundred-something hockey player beneath you whimpered like a newborn puppy as you toyed with the waistband of his briefs, smirking all the while.

#m's midnights prompt list #requests #mat barzal #mathew barzal #mat barzal blurb #mathew barzal blurb #mat barzal fanfiction #mathew barzal fanfiction

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starry-hughes · 4 months

Text

family heirloom (mat barzal)

day 23 of star’s ficmas

mat barzal x reader

You had been in the kitchen, helping your grandmother with the ham. Mat and you had decided to spend Christmas with your family. You traded where you spent Christmas yearly, last year you had spent it with his family, therefore it was your family’s turn.

Mat was sitting alone on the couch. He had been kicked out of helping in the kitchen, apparently it wasn’t appreciated when he started eating the marshmallows for the sweet potatoes casserole. Your mom saw the opportunity and joined him on the couch.

“Mat honey, I know you spoke to me about wanting to ask (Y/N) that question,” your mom started. Mat froze, looking around to make sure you couldn’t have heard. “Tomorrow morning,” Mat confirmed. It was a plan. Christmas Day morning, before everyone came downstairs, just the two of you. Your cousin had agreed to wake up early to take the pictures and hide behind the couch.

“I want to give you something,” your mom said. Mat had asked your parents for permission to propose. Your mom pulled out the small box that Mat had no idea was next to her. “This is the ring that my husband got from his mother,” she said. The two both turned and looked at you and your grandmother in the kitchen, placing pineapple slices on the ham. “Which is the ring, (Y/N)’s grandmother got from her mother-in-law and so forth.”

“We want (Y/N) to have this ring, pass along when you two give me grandchildren.”

He opened the ring box and his eyes filled with tears. “What ring will you wear?” he asked softly. “Don’t worry honey, I’ve been waiting for you to ask to marry my daughter for years, I had a replica done when she brought you home.”

Mat knew you’d love it. It would be special. Your wedding ring, a ring passed through your family. He shoved the box into his pocket. You walked out of the kitchen and smiled at your mom and Mat sitting together.

“Everything good over here?” you smiled, leaning over the couch and kissing Mat’s cheek. “Perfect,” Mat said.

He could barely sleep, at six in the morning, he was blinking awake. Texting your cousin who was in a room down the hall to get the camera ready. You were exactly happy that your boyfriend decided to wake you up at the crack of dawn. “I just want to see the morning snow with you and I have presents to put under the tree for your nieces.”

You begrudgingly brushed your teeth and Mat kissed the top of your head and smiled in the mirror at your matching pajamas. Both of you were wearing the green pajamas your mom had bought you two.

He brought you downstairs, acting like he was going to get your coat to go outside while you placed the last minute presents under the tree. He wasn’t getting your coat, he was getting the ring he had hidden in his own coat pocket.

“Mat, the presents are under the tree, did you get my coat?” You stood from kneeling, turning and finding Mat standing there without coats. “Mat? I thought we were going outside.”

“I want to do something before. (Y/N) I have loved you since the moment I met you. I have wanted to marry you the moment you agreed to be my girlfriend. The only regret I have is not asking you sooner.” Mat Barzal sank to one knee, hands shaking like they did the day he was drafted into the NHL, shaking like they did the day he was knocking on your door to pick you up for your first date. “Will you marry me?”

You choked on your words, wiping at tears you suddenly became aware of. “Yes, yes,” you finally got out. Mat stood, holding your hand still as he slipped the ring on. You gasped. “My mom’s ring? That she got from my grandma?”

You remember trying it on when you were a kid, playing in her jewelry box, there was a new level of emotions. “Passing it down the family line,” he smiled as he pulled you in for a kiss.

#mat barzal #mathew barzal #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal fic #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #mathew barzal imagine #ny islanders imagine #nhl fanfic #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #star’s ficmas

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abilouwrites · 6 months

Text

BARZAL BABY FEVER

Mat BARZAL 😻🤠

“Oh lindy loulou” I grin sweetly at the three month old as I hold her into my arms, smothering the sweet baby in kisses, “oh ain’t you jus the cutest lil gumdrop to ever be”

I used to hate when my southern accent would shine through but I’ve grown to not mind it as much, “yes you are, yes you are!” I rock her slowly shuffling back and fourth, Noah looks at me and I know he wants his a baby back but I’m not ready to give her up just yet.

“Y/n please, Linds needs her nap” He begs quietly as I continue playing with his daughter, tickling her tummy and watching as she grins and laughs a little, “Mat tell your girlfriend to give me my baby back”

He doesn’t respond, sitting and staring as I let her suckle on my finger, “Noah, Shh” I whisper gently as I make my way back to the couch, once she starts to fuss I stand back up and keep rocking her, “she’ll nap, don’t you worry”

“Just support her head” He nervously goes to stand but I turn away from him, “y/n please”

“I have little siblings, don’t worry” I wave him off, bouncing her up so she’s got her head on my shoulder.

Mat comes over to me and stands behind me gently kissing her forehead and nose, “can I hold her”

I frown but reluctantly let him hold Lindy, even though she’s not my baby, “she smells so good” I whine out as Mat holds the small infant.

My heart swells as I watch him cradle the little girl, maybe because I’m ovulating or maybe because I saw the ring in the back of his dresser, “she’s just the sweetest lil gooseberry”

Noah nods and I watch Sarah slowly creep outside of the bedroom, “god I’m so sorry I slept through it all” she apologizes rubbing her eyes, “can I get you anythin? Water? Tea, maybe coffee” she asks

“No we’re alright, you sleep well?” I ask, patting down the couch for her to come sit

“Yeah, I needed that. If you two want to babysit”

“Yes” Mat and I say without hesitation

Noah and his wife look at eachother with an excitement and love I adore.

“Next Saturday?”

Lindy and I are laying on the couch of Mat and I’s apartment, she’s playing with the little gold shine on my earrings. Mat left for an hour to hit the gym but he promised to bring back lunch.

“Hey cuties” Mat fawns as he walks back into the apartment. Setting a bag of food down onto the island table, “when’s her nap?” He asks quietly as Lindy rests her head on my chest and sprawls out on me.

“In a few minutes, but I wanna get her sleepy before I put her down” I tell him. Mat nods slowly picking her up, whispering softly as he gently places her down in the little crib Noah lent us.

I get up and make my way to the food mat bought, “good workout?” I ask as he quickly devours a large fry and a few of my chicken nuggets.

“Ya” he whispers out, “so uh this is really out of the blue.. do you think kids are in the cards for us?”

“I think so, at least I would really.. really love to have my own baby. We can’t keep Lindy forever” I confess, “I’m sure once they’re back to a regular sleeping schedule they’ll miss her”

“With the way Noah’s blowing up my phone lately I think they already miss her”

#hockey #nhl #nhl blurb #nhl fanfiction #mat barzal smut #mat barzal x reader #mathew barzal #husband material #mat barzal #mat barzal my beloved

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midnightsnyx · 5 months

Text

girl at home | mat barzal | part 5

pairing: mat barzal x fem!reader summary: you’re eighteen when you find yourself pregnant after Mat leaves for hockey. nearly eight years later, Mat finds out about your daughter and you have to deal with the consequences of not telling him about her.

warnings: swearing, angst, food, fluff, not edited word count: 2.3k authors note: it's my bday tmw and i am going out of town for the weekend so i wanted to get this posted!! also, i have no idea how pr management works so i def got everything wrong so pls don't yell at me lol i feel like this chapter is just like a roller-coaster that went off the tracks and blew up and someones trying to put it back together with tape from the dollar store so im sorry but i hope yall like it anyway and don't hate me pls <3 send your thoughts or come yell at me about this story bc I LOVE hearing from you guys!! It feeds my writing soul. thank u all for the love on this story so far and lmk if you wanna be added to my taglist. also thinking about doing some smau for this fic and wondering if you guys have any ideas or suggestions?

if you asked to be added to the taglist and didn't get tagged it's cause you didn't show up when i searched for you! so shoot me a msg and we can figure it out. also if you want to be added or taken off the taglist please let me know <3

requests are open. masterpost masterlist taglist form ask box

You didn’t think the situation with Mat’s statement could get any worse. You were already being pestered by your mom, your friends and even other parents at the day camps Nora attended. Mostly everyone knew that it was true that Mat was her father at that point so the statement caused questions to rise. Ignoring everybody’s opinions about it was easy but six simple words from Nora were what broke you.

“I thought Mat was my daddy,” she said softly while eating breakfast one morning. She had been quiet since the day before but it continued when she woke up the next morning. You thought maybe she was just moody and tired but it ended up being much more than that.

It took you a minute to answer, trying to figure out where she might have heard or been told that. It wasn’t that surprising that she might have gotten the impression that he was her dad considering how much time Mat had been spending with the two of you or she overheard a conversation. Kids are very perceptive but you couldn’t see how anyone would directly tell her about the public statement and you had been very careful about what you said around Nora and told everyone else to do the same.

Apparently someone didn’t get the memo.

You had two options. You could lie to Nora about what was going on or you could explain it in the best way you could to her. Lying to your daughter was the last thing you wanted to do but figuring out the easiest way to explain it so she would understand was hard. How were you supposed to explain that yes, Mat is her daddy but he was a fucking idiot and told the world that she’s not even though he said he wanted to be in her life. It would have been so simple to take the easy way out but it wouldn’t have been fair to Nora so after she finished her breakfast, you sat her down.

“You’re feeling a little confused, huh?” you asked, watching her fiddle with a loose string on her sweater.

She nodded, still not looking up at you and not offering her thoughts. It was a bit alarming because she was usually a chatterbox, even when she was upset about something. She would let you know exactly what was wrong.

“Who told you Mat was your daddy?”

She finally looked up at you, and the tears threatening to spill from her eyes made you both angry and upset. You were ready to find whoever told her and scream at them but her answer stunned you.

“I heard you talking to Jaxy,” she whispered. “I wasn’t trying to listen but I was coming out to get some water and you said that you were mad at Mat.”

She didn’t elaborate on what else she may have heard which was unnerving because you probably said a lot of things about Mat that night when Jax came over to talk to you about it. You hoped she didn’t stay long enough for your breakdown where you had cried for thirty straight minutes.

She sniffled, wiping a couple tears away. “I don’t understand.”

Your heart broke but you still struggled with how to explain everything to her. Telling her in the beginning was probably a better idea but you were so caught up in your own thoughts and feelings, you ignored the person who should have been your number one priority the entire time.

“Mat is your daddy, baby,” you said. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

I’m sorry I kept you a secret.

“How come everyone is saying he’s not?”

Mat should have been the one to answer this question because it was his doing, but you hadn’t spoken to him since the night he was at your apartment and the two of you argued. He had texted you the day after but you ignored it because you didn’t know what you would say when given the chance.

“Well, sometimes people make mistakes and Mat said something he shouldn’t have,” you explained, hoping it was enough and it seemed to be enough at first but then she hugged you tightly.

“I love you mama,” she said and before you could reply, she quietly asked, “Do you think Mat loves me?”

“I’m sure he does,” you told her and it took everything in you not to cry.

. . .

Liana: dinner at our place @ 6. bring nora and don’t be late!!!

You’re tempted to decline the request and just stay home but you’ve been promising Liana and Nadia that you would actually visit instead of dropping Nora off and leaving like you’ve been doing. Avoiding Mat is becoming increasingly difficult. It’s been two weeks since he released the statement and a week since your conversion with Nora. She’s been asking a lot of questions, ones that you didn’t plan on having to answer so soon. You expected her to be angry with you for not telling her but she took your confirmation that Mat’s her dad with ease.

So it didn’t come as a surprise when her first question was whether Mat would be at the Barzal household for this dinner. You hadn’t bothered to ask Liana, mainly because you knew it would definitely impact your decision to agree to go.

“Did you know that Zoe’s mom and dad aren’t together either?” She says during the drive to the Barzal’s.

You do know this but you humor her. “Really?”

“Yup. Zoe said she spends weekends with her dad and stays with her mommy during the week,” she explains and then moves on to a different topic. You’re a little curious why she would talk about her friends’ living arrangements but when you finally pull into the driveway, your question is answered.

“Do I have to stay at Mat’s on the weekend?” She asks and if you hadn’t already parked the car, you would have hit the brakes.

“No,” you say a little too quickly and sharply because she frowns.

“How come?”

You don’t answer her question right away, getting out of the car and walking around to the other side. She’s already unbuckling her seatbelt by the time you open the door and she’s still frowning.

“Just no, Nora.”

“But Zoe does!”

You can’t explain custody agreements to a seven-year-old so you say the first excuse you can think of.

“He doesn’t live here,” you say, taking her hand and begin walking towards the house. She’s dragging her feet, clearly not happy with your response.

“Do I have to call him dad?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Just ‘cause,” you say, stopping at the door and turning to her. Her arms are crossed and she’s giving you the look that says she won’t let up until you give her an answer she wants.

“Do you want to call him dad?”

She pauses, looking down at the ground and frowning. After a moment she shakes her head.

“No, but Miss. Jones says you’re not supposed to call your mommy and daddy by their first names ‘cause it’s disrespectful.”

“It’s not up to Miss. Jones,” you say gently. “This is new, and you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

After a moment, she mutters a quiet “okay,” and then: “do you think Nadia has ice-cream for dessert?”

“Guess we’ll have to go inside and ask,” you reply and raise your fist to knock on the door but it swings open before you can. Liana is waiting on the other side with a big smile on her face. Nora runs straight to her and giggles when the older girl picks her up and swings her around.

“C’mon in,” Liana says, ushering you inside. So far there’s no sign of Mat so some of the tension leaves your body. After putting both yours and Nora’s shoes aside, you make your way to the kitchen. Nadia is puttering around, juggling a million things but she still smiles softly when she sees you.

“Can I help with anything?”

“You can keep me company,” she says and points to a chair. “Sit down and update me on what you’ve been up to.”

You know that you can’t argue with her so you sit and chat idly with her. She doesn’t bring up anything to do with Mat and you’re not sure what to think about it. You almost slip up and ask if he’s going to be here for dinner but decide not to. You haven’t seen him around since you arrived, so he’s probably out. Maybe with a girl.

Not that you care, obviously.

Mike eventually pokes his head in the kitchen to greet you and ask how you’ve been. He offers to set the table but Nadia shoos him out of the kitchen, rolling her eyes fondly.

“Don’t get married, they’re nothing but trouble,” she jokes but there’s a smile on her face that lingers even after her husband leaves. You always admired their relationship, and were certain that you and Mat would be like it some day but it wasn’t in the cards.

Soon, Nadia calls everyone to dinner. Nora immediately asks why Mat isn’t here and there’s an awkward silence until Liana breaks it.

“He’s busy,” she tells Nora and that must be enough because she just nods and starts eating dinner. Nothing else is said about Mat but just as you’re all finishing dessert, you hear the door open and close and there’s only one person you figure it will be.

Mat walks into the dining room, clearly caught off guard by your presence. Nora hops off her chair and darts over to him, wrapping her arms around his legs and starts chatting excitedly. He’s trying to give her all his attention but his eyes keep flickering to you.

When Nadia and Mike get up to start clearing the table and Liana asks Nora if she wants to go watch a movie, you realize that the three of them planned this. It’s almost like you’re kids again, fighting about something stupid and needing his parents to help fix the problem.

Mat looks at you a little helplessly when the room clears and it’s just the two of you. There’s no way you can yell at him with his family and Nora in the next room and you realize that was also probably planned.

“Can we talk?” he asks and you really don’t want to, but you realize that eventually you’re going to have to talk to him so you nod. You follow him out the back door and the two of you sit on the porch steps in silence until you finally break it.

“Why didn’t you come to me about what PR wanted to do? We could have figured out something together.”

He shrugs, looking at the ground. “I didn’t think to ask you about it. I just wanted to fix everything before it got complicated. I wasn’t thinking.”

“Yeah, no shit,” you mutter. “That’s something you’re great at. You don’t think before you do anything.”

You jump when he stands up suddenly and turns to face you. He’s angry but so are you.

“No, fuck that. You can’t just expect me to do everything right, when a month ago, all I had to worry about was hockey. I can’t be number one dad overnight! You didn’t even tell me about her for six years!”

You’re a bit taken off guard by his sudden outburst but you can do anger too.

“That is the exact reason I didn’t tell you about her, Mat. Hockey is always going to come first in your life,” you snap. “And I didn’t ask you to be a number one dad, all I asked was that you be sure you wanted to be in her life before you committed to anything because this is exactly what I was worried about.”

He falters a little, probably not expecting you to return the anger.

“I didn’t want to post what they asked me to,” he says, sounding defeated. “But I didn’t know how to say no. When PR tells you to jump, you jump.”

You’ve no idea how public relations in hockey works, it’s possible that they would have posted the statement without asking Mat but you’re so damn angry. You’re angry but you don’t know who you’re even supposed to be mad at now.

“You should have come to me,” you say again. “That’s how co-parenting works, you know.”

His mouth twitches. “That’s what we were doing?”

You can feel the anger slowly dissipating. Mat’s shoulders aren’t as tense and he plops back down on the steps so you sit next to him, letting your shoulders and knees knock against his.

“Well, you are her dad,” you admit. “And she is very concerned about her future living arrangements.”

He looks at you a little confused but there’s a small smile spreading across his face.

“Does she know?”

“Yeah,” you tell him. “She’s smarter than you expect sometimes.”

“She gets that from you,” he says, poking your arm.

You roll your eyes fondly. “Well she had to get her brains from someone.”

He huffs but it sounds more like a laugh. You watch him look at the ground, brows furrowed and deep in thought.

“I fucked up, didn’t I?”

Here’s the thing that a lot of people don’t know about Mat: he doesn’t forgive himself easily. It’s something you learned the hard way when you were younger and dating.

So you know he will beat himself up over this until you forgive him.

“Yeah, but we both did.” You bump your knee against his until he looks up at you. “We can fix it, but we have to do it together.”

He holds out his pinky finger. ”Co-parenting, right?”

You hook your finger around his and nod, letting yourself relax for the first time in weeks. It’s going to take time, hard work, and you’re both going to have to learn how to trust and communicate better again but you're sure you’ll get there.

“Together,” you agree.

tag list: @literatureluster @dasiysthings @barzyblogbabe @diary-of-jj @heatherawoowoo @fallinallincurls @topguncultleader @shadowsndaisies @lovinbarzal @whatthepuckisgoingon @alilstressyandlotdepressy @teapartydreams @keiva1000

#hockey imagines #allies writing #nhl fanfiction #hockey fanfiction #nhl imagines #hockey imagine #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fic #mat barzal fanfiction #mathew barzal imagine #mathew barzal x reader

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behoright · 1 year

Text

console me l m. barzal

how it feels to rest / on your patient lips

summary: as angry as mat is after the season loss, he cannot hide it from you. mostly plotless smut

wordcount: 4.6k

warnings: minors DNI! 18+ only. smut, sexual situations that include rough sex, degrading language and behaviors, pain/pleasure dynamics, pet names, consent break/check, bodily fluids. mentions of size difference and love lol.

a/n: for all my sad, islanders girlies. masterlist is fixed! muah.

read me please: i cannot say this any more clearly: this is not for everyone. read at your discretion. the warnings are stated as clearly as i can my loves. my inbox is always open to have any discussion about writing, relationships, sex, bdsm and kink. if this makes you uncomfortable or simply is not your cup of tea, move on my dear. love u guys always.

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It really took only a day to figure out.

As much as he tried to hide it, leave it at the rink.

Anger.

Mat had never been so pissed before.

For once, he knew that he had given it his all.

He had sacrificed, time and time again.

Played through sickness, injuries, birthdays, and special events.

Harder than ever before.

Despite knowing that everything passes, he couldn’t shake the thought, or perhaps the fact, that there had been other factors that cost the team the cup.

Things out of his control.

And it drove him to the edge every night.

Having to see his teammates get more disappointed with every passing second on the ice.

Knowing that their dream was slipping away from them, no matter how much he had clawed and fought to hold on.

He spent extra time at the gym, on the ice, hours after the last painful loss, just to attempt to get rid of the anger.

But it wasn’t working.

Instead, it just fueled the apparent neverending and burning cycle.

The last thing he wanted to do was bring his negativity home.

Back to you.

To the safe haven you had both built so meticulously.

The only person that stood by his side, in every sense of the word, didn’t deserve to take the brunt.

However, you could see the cracks.

He was very good at veiling it, but not good enough for you.

The past couple days had brought you a huge sense of gratitude, knowing you were in a relationship that stripped your souls and bodies.

Fully being yourselves at all times.

So, as you packed to begin your various summer travels, you knew you had no other choice.

Something was pounding, deep from inside you, to open this door for you two.

You stood in your shared room, watching Mat’s muscular back crouched down in the walk in closet as he messily threw his shirts in his luggage.

“Mat?” you called him, voice shaky.

“Hmm, babe?” he asked, still packing.

“How are you feeling?”

The question wasn’t anything new, a domestic ritual you two had to keep your connection based in truth wholly.

Since you had both promised to listen without any stories or distractions in exchange for the complete truth, every single time, it had become easier to share.

“Well, love…” he sighed, not daring to face you as his face stiffened, your question bringing up his most repressed feelings. “I’m angry. I’m fucking frustrated at how it all ended, you know?”

“You are?” you said, walking towards him, picking at the skin on your hands nervously.

“Yeah, baby. It’s okay, I mean, it’ll pass. But I’m angry.”

“Take it out on me.” you blurted out, strong in your stance and words, now only a couple of feet behind him. “Fuck me as hard as you can.”

Mat stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes widening as his mind emptied, only being able to stare at the half empty suitcase in front of him.

Whether he liked to admit it or not, he knew that you could see right through him.

There was no hiding from the woman he loved.

“I know that we’ve talked about this before but… are you sure you can handle it?” he questioned, turning around to look at you.

“I know I can, Mat.”

“Baby…”

The overhead warm light surrounded your head like a halo as he looked up at you.

He wondered, during a poetic moment, how his angel could be giving herself over to him like this.

“I’m asking for it.” you said, taking a step closer to him. “Can you handle it?”

For a moment he forgot that his sweet angel was no such thing behind closed doors. Ever since the first night, he saw that dark fire inside you, and it hadn’t gone out in years.

Mat was the perfect fan to your flames.

“Oh, so it’s like that huh?” Mat answered, his lips curling up into a smirk as he stood up to tower over you. “Will you tell me if you need me to stop?”

“Yes.” you gulped as you two stood just inches apart. “I remember my word.”

“You do, huh?” he asked as you saw his feet take one last step towards you, the fabric of his shirt ghosting over yours.

“I can take it.” you repeated, getting lost in his eyes as you looked up into his dark eyes.

“Yeah, we can take it, right, baby?” he uttered, his fingers wrapping around the sides of your neck as his eyes looked down upon you. “We fucking can.”

His lips finally met yours, Mat’s tongue swiping feverishly on your bottom lip before invading your mouth, drippingly meeting yours in a heated makeout session.

The belligerence of his kiss sent a moan reberverating inside his open mouth.

Mat loved to make out. He could do it for hours, until his cock began to twitch restlessly in his denim.

He opened his mouth fully, letting you invade each other messily.

Lately, he had taken it as far as to spit in your mouth. Not forcefully, but just letting a trail of spit drip from the tip of his tongue into your throat, the height difference coming to his advantage.

It felt so fucking primal to him that it always sent you flying against a wall everytime he’d see the look of passion and satisfaction in your eyes after you swallowed his saliva.

“Is this what you’ve been thinking about? All those times I was heated, venting at you?”

he asked, forcing you to take steps back into the bedroom, still holding you tightly, the tips of his fingers pushing against the ridges of your scalp.

“Yes.” you whispered into a kiss. The sensual murmur drove him to bite your bottom lip, pull it towards him as he stopped your motions.

“Oh, what is wrong with you, baby? That’s so fucking bad.” he said, watching the bite swell up exquisitely as you smiled, enticing him into more kisses.

More spit, boiling into each other and pushing each other unconsciously as you two ondulated in your heat. He began to shove himself intensely against you, getting more of those moans he loved so much.

“You can’t even be quiet when I kiss you.” he said, shaking his head slowly as his hand came to rest on the front of your neck. He flinched backwards when you attempted to kiss him again.

It was his bedroom now.

“Come here.” he barked, sitting down on the bed. “This will shut you up.”

He didn’t have to repeat himself before you kneeled in front of him, not even giving him a chance to undo his pants before your mouth salivated over him. He rested his long fingers on your shoulder, almost keeping you tamed as he pulled out his erection.

“Eager, eager girl.” he chuckled, watching you leap onto him.

You wished you could take him entirely the second your tongue met the salty precum that had dribbled down his shaft, but that had never been a possibility.

Unbeknownst to you, Mat fucking loved it.

He adored that you struggled to take him, that you wanted so hard to swallow him whole at a first try.

His head fell back, exposing his thick adam’s apple as it thumped in his throat, Mat trying to hide his gulps every time your lips wrapped around him lower and lower.

You knew just how to please him, swirling your tongue and hollowing your cheeks just at the right minute spots that still took his by surprise every single time.

Mat felt your desperation as you kept taking him down, so eager to please him. For a second, it enchanted him, filling him with gratitude that he had a partner that so badly wanted to destress him.

However, it was short-lived.

It was not what you wanted, or what he needed.

“Fuck.”

It felt good, his toes slowly beginning to curl as he felt strings of precum coat the back of your throat, but the more he channeled the feeling that he had pushed away for so long, the more restless he became.

Every time you gagged, your muscles would clench around him, shocking him with exhilarating stimulation.

“Sit up. Now.” he said, strictly, jumping out of his experience. You tentatively moved away from him, the only thing connecting you two now being a sloppy trail of saliva.

“Baby, I-, I-...” you said, uncertainly.

“You what? Hmm?” he asked, undressing as you stared at him dumbfounded.

Throughout the years, Mat had never sounded so stern in the bedroom as he did now.

“You asked for angry Mat, didn’t you?” he continued, tapping your head demeaningly in an effort to sit you up. “Beggars can’t be choosers, doll.”

The register in his voice was forceful and humiliating enough to send your desire running down the inside of your thighs, his muscular hands working on practically ripping your clothes off so harshly that he had thrown you off balance a couple of times.

Your heart began to race in anticipation as he silently threw the half-trashed garments through the room.

He was decisive, precise in his actions, and it made you slightly trepid.

Prolepsis and nerves mixing acidly in your stomach; you knew you had the choice to revoke consent anytime, but you were grounded enough to know that Mat was the safest man to do this with.

Apart from working up to it for months now, and seeing him slowly come out of his shell and let go further every time he got you to himself behind closed doors, you knew how much you wanted this.

Your body knew as well, your blood rushing rapidly to your cunt as he kept grazing against your skin, snapping the back of your bra before discarding it mindlessly. You could feel the flames of his subjugated feelings simmering again, coming to the surface the more he got out of his head and into his body, his breath becoming deeper and hotter against your skin, breathing out frustration with low, vibrational groans.

“Get on the bed.” he yapped as soon as you were fully naked, his hand pushing you a tad bit too potently onto your bed; so much so that you naturally rested your sweaty limbs on the blankets on all fours.

“Look how wet you are. You’re not embarrassed?” he spit out, running his finger up your slit sloppily as he set himself behind you. “I haven’t even touched you, Y/N.”

He was just a hair over the line, authoritative in his colloquy and pinpointing his acts precisely to get you where he wanted.

He didn’t care to run himself on your slit, not tonight, his cock still dripping with your thick spit. He thrusted entirely into you, his pounding head coming in contact with your cervix instantly, making your body barely jolt forward.

“You should be fucking ashamed, Y/N, not moaning.” he barked, as he began to move painfully slow. His thick length, running in and out of your tight walls at a lethargic pace.

Still, feeling every inch so powerfully split you apart with no preparation, the ridges of his member and his veins skimming your engorged insides ripped moans out of you like never before.

“You just love being a fuck toy for me, don’t you.” he said, roughly intensifying the grip on your hips as he gradually sped up his movements. He sounded just as rough, doing his best to hold back any signs of satisfaction, but it wasn’t easy. He had made you into a mess so quickly and it mostly came down to his demeanor.

Ever since he met you, he knew he’d treat you right and respectfully, only you.

He never cared to seem friendly to other girls, truthfully; because he had you.

The only girl that had naturally commanded such a soft love and tenderness out of him. It was almost ironic to him how the tougher he was with you in between the sheets, the more you melted.

And god, did he love to see you like this.

Spread vulnerably and already on the brink after a handful of thrusts.

It drove him mad, struggling to keep any self-control just to have you on a tittering edge.

But feeling you drip around him, your yearning for him ebbing and flowing out of your pussy as it mixed with the spit that you’d left on his cock, now all of it mixing and coating both of you.

“Yeah, my little doll.” he said, masking his exasperation as he found a steady rhythm that made your ass recoil delightfully against his pelvis, the chiseled V that framed his cock pounding hard into your flesh as you began to see stars.

Your mouth was stuck open, wanting his call out his name miserably but finding it impossible as the tension kept building within you, tightening your pussy all around and sending shivers down his back as his legs began to tense, inch by inch.

He groaned deeply, squeezing his eyes shut and striving to pivot on that feeling he adored so much, all the sensations that came with being buried deep inside you.

But all he found was that anger.

The emotion he had tried to leave at work, to get past.

The one that you had noticed.

For good reason, because it was unignorable.

And so he focused on it, the frustration that he had accumulated for months beginning to expand and find its way insidiously through every vessel, every corner of his being. His jaw clenched, the more he let it take over him, the more pleasure would grow, passing from you to him and burning brightly in his belly.

The hinges of the bed creaked and slammed against the wall, his bedframe scratching against his beloved wooden floor as his ears were blessed with your saccharine moans, leaving you unexpectedly and unplanned.

Your body knew how to take him precisely as his thrusts moved you forward, encouraging all the natural sounds to come out of you instinctively.

He was afraid that if he let go of your hips that he would lose it.

He was afraid that he’d pound you right into the mattress; instead, he had a set intention to make this last, to see how far he could take you.

Mat had never heard you sound so beautiful, he thought, just as his rage came to a peak; he could feel his joints begin to sore as he gave it his all, unwilling to stop and let go, fully zoned into unloading his stress.

He never knew it would bring you so much bliss as he looked down and saw the consequences, heavenly squelching echoing against his growls. He knew you were losing it, micro mannerisms in your body letting him see that you were reaching your orgasm hastily.

He didn’t need to see your face.

He knew that that familiar blush had knocked at your door, covering your cheeks expansively as your moaning got more high-pitched and frenetic, your pussy twitching around his moving cock.

“Slow down, you’re making a fucking mess.” he commanded, smugly knowing it would allow it to rip through you, just as it did.

His knuckles turned white just as yours did, the grip on your sheets fatally unyielding as you let go, coming over Mat.

The pleasure sparking every synapse in your brain, the cozy feeling flashing through you over and over again as he kept fucking, still roughly and aggressively.

“You’re fucking gushing.” he said, brave enough to let a hand come down, hard on your ass. The nonchalant tone of disgust in his voice made your whole body light up, tiny bumps forming on your skin at his words as you began to come down from your orgasm.

Mat kept relentlessly, only speeding up, just edging at the border of being too much. As he hit the same spot over and over again, forcefully, your limbs became weak, succumbing to the tremoring that Mat was sending through your system.

The more you came on him, the more degrading he’d become, periodically spitting onto your core. You knew it wasn’t for any functional purpose more than for humiliating pleasure, giving you everything you craved and more. You couldn’t ask for more, his groans and insults filling up the room; however, the needier you acted, the more Mat would crack under you.

And the more you pretended you didn’t notice it, the harder your eyes would roll back.

“You’re so fucking loud, god damn. I’d tell you to shut up, but I know you can’t do it, you’re so heated up.”

Your muscles started to twitch faintly as he snuck his hand around you to rub your clit vigorously, pushing against your skin with sadistic pressure. As much as you tried to get any words of warning out, your body betrayed you, falling pathetically flush against the mattress, the only thing leaving you a whimper.

The movement wasn’t surprising to you; you had noticed the build-up and distress signals a while ago but had stupidly given in to the thrill instead.

For Mat, however, it was a different story.

Seeing you tremble against his milky sheets, writhing around slowly and whimpering had him worried immediately. He pulled out swiftly before turning you around.

Thankfully, your eyes found each other, giving him an encouraging sign of lucidity from you.

“Look into my eyes. Are you okay?” he said, clenching his fingers underneath your chin.

“M’kay.”

Through blurry vision, you were able to find his dark gaze, regardless of how he was touching your face. The grip on your cheek was so protective and yet you couldn’t ignore the hedonism in his touch.

“What is it? I’m not going to keep fucking you if you’re lying to me.” he said, harshly.

Your brain had melted, completely caved into him, his energy and touch that had brought you to this place so quickly. The unfamiliar floaty feeling neighbored you as you began to tranquilize your boyfriend.

“I’m not lying.” you muttered lazily, gaining enough strength to prop yourself up on your elbows, your nose now touching his. “It just feels so good, Mat.”

Your confession took Mat by surprise.

His worst fear was taking it all too far, unwillingly hurting you in any way, whether that be physically or otherwise.

All the same, here you were, in all of your splendor under him, shaking from pleasure.

It didn’t take long to realize that perhaps he had induced some sort of high, if that was possible.

“You need a kiss?” he asked, his eyes still diligently studying your face. “You need a kiss, don’t you, yeah, come here.”

It wasn’t frenzied or fiery, and still, it told him everything he needed to know.

“That’s all? Better?” he looked at you once more, running his mental checklist.

Eyes were good, skin not too flushed, she can kiss normally, and speak. Not dehydrated or pale.

“Much better.”

The transparency in your speech set in stone what he had thought of.

The words that so easily came out of him, his mannerisms and gestures had sent you haywire, quivering with vibrant intensity, the bliss forcing its way out of your pores, steaming from your skin.

“Good job.” he coaxed, mentally patting himself on the back with a smirk as you fell back down onto the cloudy mattress with a dreamy sigh, a hazy look fixated on him.

Drunk on pleasure, he thought, snickering.

“I bet you feel so dirty, don’t you?” Mat said, his chest heaving with warm sweat dripping from his stubble down onto his pecs. Vulnerability surrounded you both, your eyes running upon each other’s bodies. Taking this moment to pause made sure you were attending to each other fully and completely, the desire still consuming you thoroughly. In the quietness, Mat took his fingers and began running them down your abdomen, barely grazing your clammy skin.

“I asked you a question, doll.” he said, moving his touch again up your centerline. You could only nod, his fingertips electrifying you with eternal bliss as they found their resting place on your plump lips.

“Are you having trouble with your words?” he said, breathlessly mocking you before you stuck your tongue out, soaking his digits by letting them sit on you.

After all, Mat didn’t think he could break any further.

Until then.

Seeing you embrace the feeling gave him the reassurance that he was subconsciously looking for.

He was incredulous at your actions, sticking your tongue out fully, with no shame or guilt, and only for him.

Letting your spit absorb into his calloused skin, while more saliva pooled visibly at the back of your throat.

Disgustingly.

And it made his throbbing cock twitch, heedlessly slapping against your cunt in a wet motion.

“Fuck, angel.”

He pushed it further by entering your mouth and your pussy simultaneously, a choked moan surrounding his hand as your eyes flew back.

“That’s my fucking girl.” he said, his eyebrows furrowed as he wasted no time in his fucking, militantly filling you fully again. “Doesn’t it make you feel so good, baby?”

“It does.” you moaned, obediently answering his every question and request.

“Doesn’t it feel so fucking good to be so dirty for me?” he asked, flush taking over him again.

It was so delightful to see him let go, fully, just as he thought the same about you.

“So nasty, such a sick little girl.” he continued. “Turn around, come here.”

Mat sat back on his heels, guiding you to sit on his cock.

The will was stronger than logic, your thighs quivering as you sunk down on him.

Mat always hit deeper at this angle, his cock bulging out on your lower tummy as your ass came flush with him.

“You’re so bad, so fucking bad. And look at you, you don’t even care.” he said, moving your hair to the side as his lips grazed against the shell of your ear.

“What would everyone say if they saw you acting like this, huh? Begging to take me after I’m so mean to you. After I slap you, choke you, and spit on you. After I say the most degrading fucking shit to you, you don’t care. It makes your panties drenched, doesn’t it?”

Mat’s hands ran up past your tummy and found a tight hold on your tits, variating between letting them bounce in his palm and gripping them so desperately that it left marks on you. Your chests moved in synch, up and down with your motions; you let your head fall back on his shoulder as you unavailingly rebounded briskly, tightening just at the perfect moment, when your opening came in touch with the delicious curve between his pelvis and the base of his cock.

“Just as I fucking thought, you can’t even hold back.” he said, grinding ever so slightly against you. The recognizable feeling started to take over you for the millionth time, candied moans causing Mat to jolt against you unexpectedly and thrust deeper.

“You’re going to cum again, aren’t you?” he asked, slapping one of your breasts. “Your body gives you away so easily, angel face.”

He was solid under you, your loving foundation as more juices ran out of you, covering his thighs in sticky squirt, your whole being quivering in delight with his arms instinctively holding you through it.

“That’s because you’re mine, yeah?”

Your eyes, stuck on the ceiling, recognized just how close his face was to yours, gaze fixated on your expression as it furrowed and sweated the incessant orgasm.

“Yeah, I don’t even have to fucking ask.”

Mat kept talking, kept grinding, as his hands got more desperate, undecided between all the layers of skin and flesh. The more he focused on you, the more he felt like he couldn’t hold back any longer, and as much as he felt that most of the night, he knew that the simple intemperance that had built inside him was about to burst.

“Look at you. You need more? You always fucking do.” he coaxed, settling his left hand on your throat as your whole body kept aching, spasming sweetly on top of him.

Totally uncontrolled.

Unaware of what liquids were leaving you and what noises you were making.

Your brain only handling and pining for pleasure.

More and more.

“It’s never fucking enough for you, is it? You love it when I cross the line with you, you needy, needy girl.” he said, his grip on your throat tightening slightly enough to make your dotted vision fill with sparkles.

Your head snapped up as your abdomen contracted, almost painfully sore, finally letting you breathe deeply as your body gave you a second to recuperate.

Tears involuntarily left the corners of your eyes, perhaps from the delectation of it all, the intensity, the overwhelm, or the tiredness.

“It feels so, so good. You make me feel so good.” you managed to find the strength to whisper against Mat’s lips before letting yours fall on top of his in a loving kiss.

“Oh, god, you’re going to make me cum, baby.”

Mat’s voice quivered, as he stared into you; he had never breathed deeper and yet hyperventilated at the same time, just as he'd never felt so much rage and frustration mixed with pleasure all at once.

“Like that, like that, like that.” he said, through gritted teeth. “Fucking look at me.”

He grabbed your chin roughly, your face pouting under his touch in the cutest way, he thought. “Like that, baby, fuck.”

Mat exclaimed loudly as he colvulsed forward, his cum filling your tight hole with a growl so deep that you felt yourself vibrate at the power in his voice. You sloppily kept jumping on his dick, every single muscle of his being flexing in concentration and gratification as his warm seed seeped inside you and overflowed, running down his hips before he had the chance to pull out.

“Oh, fuck, baby.” he moaned, breathlessly. You finally fell, completely limp, into the puddle that he made you in since the beginning.

“That’s okay, that’s okay, fall into my arms.” Mat reassured, still firing under you. “You did so good. You were so, so good, angel.”

Mat had enough of a size advantage on you to manhandle you, this time turning you both onto your sides after a couple of quiet moments, keeping his cock warm still inside your folds.

“I love you, I love you, baby. So much. Thank you, thank you. Come here.” he whispered against you, running his hand through your locks as he pulled you closer to him by your waist.

“Are you good, baby?” he said, watching you nod with a sweet smile on your face. “Why are you crying?”

“It just felt so good, babe.” you reassured him, turning slightly to play with his shining chain that sat damply on his collarbones.

“I would never hurt you, yeah? You’re safe with me.” he whispered into your cheek in between kisses. “I got you always, babe. Nothing’s going to hurt you while I’m here.”

“I know, baby, I love you.” you said, your eyes into his. “Are you okay, Mat?”

“Oh, baby, yes, yes I’m okay don’t worry. Was I too rough? Too mean? You can tell me, love.”

“No, no, it was perfect.” you repeated. You’d say it as many times as it was needed.

“Good. You were perfect.” he said.

You didn’t know, but he thought the same. Reassurance had no limit for him.

“I see you, I see you fully and I love you, I love everything about you.”

“I love you more, Mat.” you said in between kisses. “Do you feel better now?”

“Oh, baby. So much fucking better.”

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