#Mat Barzal fanfiction

[drewsbuzzcut]

The Best Of You, Honey, Belongs To Me

Mat Barzal x model!fem!reader

A visceral in doses fic

Warnings: some jealousy and smut, mentions having a baby and drinking alcohol, and mentions marriage

Takes place September 2026

“Ryan’s here,” Mat groans while unbuckling Nolan from his car seat.

Your sweet boy kicks his legs in delight, ready to be in his daddy’s arms while simultaneously distracting Mat from his distaste. You clock just where Mat’s line of vision was previously directed, Ryan’s car.

“You memorized his car?” You ask with a smirk after you round the corner to get to your two boys.

Mat doesn’t usually get jealous, so when he does you always feel a little smug.

“It’s not my fault he’s always around,” Mat mutters against Nolan’s chubby cheek.

“Dada,” Nolan squeals, his body leaning into his daddy’s chest.

“Aw baby, don’t be jealous. I’m all yours,” you say, holding up your left hand to showcase your rock for an engagement ring. It catches the rays from the sun and gleams, making Mat smile gleefully.

“I love you,” he says with his lovesick eyes that you love so much.

You walk up to him, long silky smooth legs on display, and reach out to move some hair away from his forehead. His hazel eyes sparkle in the sun, luring you into his chest. Or maybe it was his large hand on the curve of your ass pulling you to him. You seal your mouth to his and welcome his tongue as it passes the seam of your lips. He hums into you, tasting the cherry flavor of your lip gloss.

“Fuck. Can I just take you home?” Mat asks, breathlessly after he reluctantly pulls away.

He keeps his eyes closed for a while, memories of your night before flashing through his mind.

“Sorry, hotshot. We need to be here at least 3 hours before we can think about leaving,” you sigh, turning to adjust Nolan’s wrinkled shirt.

He gives you a single-tooth smile and you can’t resist kissing his cheeks, eliciting his precious giggles.

“Mama,” he coos and puckers his lips for a kiss.

“My boys and their kisses,” you cheer, happily giving your baby another kiss.

After dinner and many conversations held with many people, you finally have time to find your boys and relax. You make a quick stop at the ice chest to find a drink for yourself and Mat. The both of you won’t be able to drink too much because you have Nolan and the drive back home, but one sounds nice.

As you’re about to get to your fiancé, you see Ryan step up to him and you pause. Things with Mat and Ryan are still weird. Even though there have been many occasions that they’ve been around each other, there’s still tension that lingers. Ryan will make conversation with you and Mat will immediately turn green in jealousy. He reeks in it and you especially feel it when he paws at you so openly. You don’t mind Mat’s brazen nature when it comes to you; you know he’s not faking it.

“Hey, man. Do you mind if I carry Nolie bear?” Ryan asks and you can clearly see Mat tense up. His skin crawls as this nobody uses the nickname you coined for your son.

He’s still for a while and Ryan waits in front of him patiently. Mat’s confidence starts to falter. He never really thought about another man carrying his son as a threat, but now he’s on alert.

“Sure,” Mat agrees and passes Nolan into Ryan’s arms.

“He’s adorable, Mat. He reminds me a lot of Y/n,” Ryan says with a smile. His eyes briefly flash over to you. He seems to always know where you are.

“That’s funny, Y/n always says that he’s my mini me,” Mat retorts with a smug look painting his face.

Before Ryan can respond, Nolan starts wailing and squirming. He reaches his little arms out for his daddy, and Mat wastes no time taking him into his arms. Nolan’s cries pull you to them, so you can make sure he’s okay.

“Hey little man. Are you okay, baby?” You coo and run your fingers through the small tufts of hair on his head.

Mat watches the way Ryan’s eyes burn into your skin. He watches you so intently, like he just wants to pull you into him. Well, too bad. Mat will never let it happen.

“He’s okay. He just isn’t used to being in strangers arms,” Mat hums, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you into his side. As you wipe away Nolan’s tears, Mat’s hand makes home on the small of your back. His fingers dip down to the curve of your ass and you send him a wicked grin. His touch alone is enough to set you on fire.

“He’s a daddy’s boy at the moment,” you chime in, nudging your nose into your boyfriend’s cheek. You softly cup his cheek and pulls his lips to yours. The large diamonds of your engagement ring shine under the light and catch Ryan’s eye.

“You’re engaged?” His shocked question pulls your attention away from where you’re currently occupied.

“Oh yeah! Mat asked while we were in Italy last month. Isn’t my ring perfect? Mat had it customized. I’m so lucky,” you gleam, practically jumping up and down. The jiggle of your ass under your shorts catches Mat’s attention and he has to wipe away the drool on his chin.

“I couldn’t wait any longer to make this pretty girl my wife,” Mat simpers, slapping your ass and kissing on your exposed shoulder.

“Well of course you had to. She did have your baby,” Ryan murmurs, eyes rolling at the two of you.

“Shut up,” you snap and push yourself into Mat’s chest before he can throw a fist.

“I’m just saying. He probably felt like he had to propose to you because you had a baby,” Ryan shrugs as if what he was saying wasn’t rude and offensive.

“Careful, Ryan. You almost sound jealous,” Mat grunts.

“Jealous? Of who? You?” The other guy shakes his head, his eyes dead set on Mat.

“Right, you wouldn’t be jealous of me. I only have the girl of your dreams in my bed every night and she had my baby. And now she’s wearing the engagement ring I designed for her, but you’re not jealous,” Mat says under his breath, but loud enough for Ryan to hear.

You turn into Mat’s chest, coming face to face with the protruding veins on his neck and the flush in his face. He’s pissed. You rub down his torso and rub at Nolan’s back. Surely he can feel the tension and that’s why he’s pressed into Mat.

“I don’t care about any of that, because guess what? She’ll never forget her first,” Ryan huffs, unknowingly setting off a ticking time bomb inside of your fiancé.

Your jaw drops to the floor and your anger starts to boil over its already overflowing pot. You cannot believe this is happening right now.

“You know what, it’s time to go,” you cut in before things have a chance to turn for the worst.

Mat follows you silently, his hand intertwining with yours lets you know that he’s trying to calm down.

Bidding your goodbyes and promises of seeing your family and friends again soon pass by in a blur. You’re not even sure what words came out of your mouth. Your feet just know that you have to get out of there and carry you to the car with Nolan in hand.

As you buckle Nolan in you start to feel guilty for leaving Mat in there- he’s either stuck in line for the restroom or stuck in his farewells- but the air in that house was starting to run thin.

And while you worry about Mat, he’s seemingly burning whatever remnants of the bridge that connects you to Ryan.

Your fiancé places a heavy hand on Ryan’s shoulder, gathering his full attention.

“You may have been her first, but I’m her last. At least I can please my girl more than once in one night, and she sometimes doesn’t mind making a mess on my sheets,” Mat whispers and walks away before Ryan can respond.

The hockey player finds you in his vehicle, his fast paced walk getting him to you within a minute.

“I’m sorry I left you in there. I just needed to get-“ your words are cut off by Mat’s lips on yours.

His hands cup your cheeks and tilt your head back as his tongue devours your mouth.

“You’re mine,” he huffs, eyes closed as he tries to commit this kiss to memory.

“Always and forever,” you breathlessly whisper and place your forehead against his.

“Let’s go home,” he says, patting your butt and walking you to the passenger side.

The entire way home you keep a watchful eye on Mat. You can tell he’s still bothered by what happened by the way he white knuckles the steering wheel. You cup the back of his neck and rub out the tension with your thumb. You can feel him partially relax into your touch.

“I love you, Barzy,” you whisper and finally relax into the seat.

Back at home, you quickly give Nolan and yourself a bath before putting him to sleep.

Mat intercepts you in your shared bedroom, his hands pull your body into a hug. You’re only clad in your silk robe and the hockey player is quick to undo the tie. His eyes roam your bare body hidden beneath the silky material. Your nipples peek through and catch his attention. His thumbs massage your nipples over your robe and your core starts to tingle in delight.

“I can’t believe you ever had sex with that guy,” Mat grumbles as he pushes the robe off of your shoulders.

He grabs you by your waist and hoists you so you’re lying on your California king sized bed. Your darkening eyes follow each of his movements as he pulls off every item of clothing on his frame.

You move to rest on your side, half propped up by leaning on your elbow.

“It pisses me off that he made you come for the first time. It pisses me off even more that he’s still around and that he watches you like a hawk. You’re mine. You’re my wife, the mother of our child,” he exasperated, hands fisting his hair.

You watch him vibrate with anger that’s triggered by jealousy. Some people may feel guilty, but it turns you on like no other.

“But look at you all laid out for me,” Mat continues, finally getting on the bed.

He climbs on top of you, his knees pressing into the mattress at your sides. He leans down, cups your breasts and sucks a nipple into his mouth. A soft moan escapes your mouth, one that he almost doesn’t hear.

“Baby,” you hum and guide his hand to your heat.

“You’re so wet, pretty girl. Who’re you all soaked for?” He smirks at the way you coat his fingers in arousal.

“You. Only you,” you whimper as he sinks his cold fingers into you, preparing you for his cock.

“Hell yeah. I’m the only one who can make you feel like this,” Mat stakes his claim and continues to pump his thick digits into you.

“Fuck me. Fill me up, please,” you beg and close your legs around his wrist to stop his movements.

“You want my cock, baby?”

You nod your head before uttering out a desperate please.

“Are you going to be my good girl?” He questions even though he knows the answer. He finally moves between your legs, grabbing his length and giving it a few strokes, sending a jolt of excitement through you.

“Yes,” your response is broken as he slips himself between your folds. His shaft glistens in your wetness.

You softly swivel your hips, your clit meeting his leaking tip. He taps his head on your sensitive bud, teasing you until you’re begging.

“You feel so fucking good. Your pussy was made for me,” he grunts as he finally stretches you open.

Your core flutters around him immediately. He’s rock hard and heavy inside of you. His thrusts are slow, but pronounced. His mushroomed tip glides along your wet walls in a tantric massage. It makes you so weak.

“Kiss me,” you whine and pull him down on top of you. Your legs wrap around him, your heels digging into his back to keep him deep inside of you. Your hands wrap around his upper back and neck. You always need him pressed to your skin.

Mat takes your lips in his, his nose nudging into yours and his tongue stroking yours. He swallows each of your moans while simultaneously pulling more out of you.

The all too familiar knot starts to tighten in your tummy. Every single nerve ending in your body burns in lust. Mat must feel the way you clench down on him, because he lifts one of your legs and places it over his shoulder.

“Oh my god. Right there, Maty. Don’t stop,” you chant at the change in angle.

His cock hits deeper to the point you practically feel him in your stomach. His large hands grip your hips and move them up and down. He repeatedly presses into your sweet spot and it sends you reeling. Your back arches off the bed and you fist the sheets while your moans get stuck in your throat. The pleasure is too good, it’s rendered you speechless.

“You look so sexy taking my cock,” he praises and circles your clit with the pad of his thumb.

Your body thrums in bliss, your slick dripping down his length and collecting at the base. The squelching and moaning creates your own melody.

“I’m going to come,” you announce with a loud moan.

The knot is being pulled taut, on the verge of snapping, and Mat holds you tight as he pounds into you.

“Come on my cock and scream my name, baby,” he throws you into the abyss.

You come with a cry, his name in the center of it. Your body twitches as the strength of your orgasm unleashes its wrath. Your walls collapse on his cock and sets off his own release. His come is pumped deep inside of you, filling you up, making you his.

“That’s it, pretty girl. You’re such a good girl, taking all of my come,” Mat praises, slowly pulling out of you and letting his lips caress your entire shivering body. He reaches down and circles your clit, working you through your release. Very gently he inserts two fingers into your sopping pussy, fucking his come back into you. It’s an erotic sight to see it drop down your thighs, but he also loves watching you be full of him. Plus, it’s hot to see it spill from your cunt.

“I love you,” you whimper and kiss on any part of him you can reach.

“I love you, baby.” He scoops your body into his arms and adjusts the both of you, so you’re lying on his chest. The rhythmic beating of his heart eases the effects of your aftershocks. His warmth seeps into your skin and you can feel yourself slipping into the perfect satiated state.

Nolan’s shrill cries break through the silence from the baby monitor and wake you up.

“I got it,” Mat whispers with a kiss to your forehead.

“No, let me. I want to hold my baby,” you respond and pull yourself out of bed.

You quickly get cleaned up before warming up his milk and entering the nursery. While you get Nolan situated in the rocking chair, Mat cleans himself up and puts on some underwear.

Quietly he stands in the entrance of Nolan’s room, watching the love of his life feed their baby. You’re dressed in Mat’s button up and Nolan is wrapped in an Islanders onesie. He sucks his milk while his eyes are glued to you. Mat knows that’s why you love feeding him. The bonding moment is everything to you, especially since you weaned him off of your breast milk.

You look up and find the love of your life watching the sweet moment between you and your son. You give him a soft smile, one full of love and appreciation. He single-handedly changed your life and you couldn’t be happier than you are right now.

“I love you, Y/n. So much,” Mat professes, kneeling down next to the rocking chair, and gracing you with many kisses to your shoulder and neck.

“I love you, Barzy,” you whisper tearfully.

With ease, Mat picks you up and sets you on his lap after he sits on the chair. You lean your head back on his shoulder and continue feeding your baby boy. Mat presses his mouth into your neck and his pointer finger is wrapped up in Nolan’s tiny hand. Mat is grateful for his life with you and the family you’re both creating.

a/n: Idk how I really feel about this, but enjoy!

[v6quewrlds]

Can you write a fic about Mat getting into a fight on the ice because an opponent said something about you

❝ guilty conscience, m. barzal. ❞  ‎ ‎ ┉  

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: experimenting with how much i like posting in 3rd person. literally wrote this in my 2 hr philosophy lecture this morning because fuck thomas hobbes. somehow i write all day for my major and minors, yet somehow i still find the will to write these fics lmao.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: a little angsty. established couple argument. language warnings i think. mat is very mat in this one. short and sweet <3

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: mathew barzal x fem!oc (malia).

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 3.6k.

Malia took a sip of her overpriced soda, the fizz tickling her nose as she surveyed the bustling arena. The smell of popcorn and the distant sound of skates slicing ice filled the air. It was her second time watching Mat play a home game for the New York Islanders, and she still felt like the new kid on the block. She wore her navy blue team jersey with "Barzal" emblazoned across the back, a gift from Mat for their two-month anniversary. She'd studied the rules and lingo, eager to fit in, but the pace of the sport still left her breathless.

Grace, the wife of the Islanders' captain Anders, leaned over and tapped her arm. "What do you think, so far?" she said with a knowing smile.

Malia smiled unconvincingly, trying to hide her nerves. Grace had been kind to her, but the other wives and girlfriends were a tougher nut to crack. They all had their own history, their own jokes, and Malia felt like she was trying to catch up on a TV show she'd started mid-season.

"Mat's really got his head in the game tonight," Malia said, hoping to steer the conversation away from her novice status. She watched as he zipped across the ice, stick handling the puck with ease, a blur of motion and concentration.

"Oh, absolutely," Grace agreed, her eyes glued to the action. "When he gets like that, it's like he's in a whole different world. They're all like that, really. Once they find their groove, it's like nothing else exists."

The game grew intense as the period neared its end. Malia felt the excitement of the crowd building like pressure in a pot. Mat's broke away down the ice, and Malia found herself leaning forward in her seat, heart racing. He was so fast, so graceful. It was easy to get lost in the flow of the game when he played. That's when it happened. The opponent, a burly player from the other team, had a smirk on his face as he checked Mat hard into the boards without warning. Malia's breath caught in her throat as Mat pushed himself back up, fists clenched. The smirk grew wider, and the other player opened his mouth to say something. Malia couldn't hear the words, but she saw Mat's face contort in anger.

Her eyes widened as she watched the scene unfold, a mix of horror and disbelief. The opponent had said something to set Mat off, something that made the usually disciplined player see red. Before she could even process what was happening, Mat had thrown his gloves to the ice and was throwing punches. The roar of the crowd grew to a crescendo as the two players grappled, their movements a violent shock. Malia's mind raced as she tried to understand why this was happening, why Mat was fighting.

It was all so raw, so primal.

Grace's grip on her arm tightened, her voice a low murmur. "It's okay, this is just part of the game."

But Malia felt anything but okay. Her heart pounded in her chest, a drumbeat of fear and confusion. The other wives and girlfriends around her remained stoic, but she could see the concern flickering in their eyes. They knew the drill, had probably seen this a hundred times before, but for Malia, it was a jolting reality check.

Mat's fury was a living, breathing entity on the ice, a stark contrast to the loud, carefree persona he was around her. It was a complete shock to the system for Malia. The sight was both terrifying and mesmerizing. She couldn't look away as players from both teams swarmed around them, trying to separate the combatants.

The referees eventually stepped in, breaking up the fight with a flurry of whistles and gestures. Mat was escorted to the penalty box, his teammates patting him on the back in a strange display of support. Malia's eyes remained glued to the ice, her mind racing with questions and fears she didn't know how to voice.

"You okay?" Alexa, Noah Dobson's girlfriend, leaned over, her eyes filled with empathy.

Malia nodded, her eyes not leaving Mat's figure in the penalty box. "I just... I didn't expect that."

Alexa chuckled softly. "Welcome to the league, hon. It's all part of the show."

Malia forced a smile, not sure if she was ready for this kind of drama. As the game resumed, she couldn't shake the feeling that she'd just seen a side of Mat she didn't know or particularly like either. The atmosphere in the arena had shifted, the electric tension of the fight still palpable. Despite the Islanders' lead, the air was thick with unspoken concern.

When the buzzer finally rang, signaling the end of the period, Malia's nerves had her jumping out of her skin. The players skated off the ice, and she took the opportunity to excuse herself to the bathroom, needing a moment to breathe. The cold air greeted her as a departure from the sticky anxiousness of the rink. As she stared into the mirror, she wondered if she was cut out for this life, if the love she had for Mat was enough to handle the darker, more intense moments of his career.

Malia returned to her seat, the game still in progress, and found that Mat had been benched. She watched as he paced back and forth behind the glass, his eyes scanning the stands until they drifted to the Jumbotron after being nudged by a few guys Malia had not met yet.

Malia's focus on her boyfriend was broken as a few of the other girls tapped her on the shoulder, her wide eyes blasted onto the Jumbotron. She forced a smile, her eyes darting away from her face in embarrassment as she realized that the arena cameramen had noticed her #13 jersey. He offered a weak smile as she turned back to him, his eyes still watching her on the screen. She could see the apology in his eyes. He knew she was still trying her best to wrap her head around the culture and rules of the game she was learning to love for his sake.

The final buzzer sounded, signaling the end of the match. The Islanders had won despite the scuffle, and Malia felt an odd mix of relief and dread as the players started to make their way off the ice. The group of them gathered their things, and she watched as Mat skated over to the bench to exchange a few words with the coach before disappearing into the locker room.

Grace gave her a reassuring pat on the back. "You'll get used to it," she said with a knowing smile. "It's part of the game. They get caught up in the moment."

Malia nodded, not entirely convinced. She knew that fights were a part of hockey, but seeing Mat so consumed by rage was unsettling, so unlike the boyfriend she knew. She sent Mat a short text, telling him she'd wait in the car for him instead of waiting with the others by the locker rooms. The coolness of the night air outside the arena brought air back into her lungs as she stepped into the parking lot. She leaned against the cold metal of the car, her heart still racing from the adrenaline rush of the fight.

When Mat emerged from the arena, his eyes searched the lot until they found her, his expression a completely devoid of any anger or self-awareness. He looked tired but victorious as he approached, his dark, fluffy hair beginning to dry from his shower. He opened the passenger door with his trademark crooked grin. "You didn't wait in the usual spot."

Malia looked at him, confusion evident on her face though she quickly pushed it aside. Maybe she was making too big a deal of it. "I just needed some air," she said, sliding into the car. "How are you feeling?"

Mat shrugged as he closed the door. "Fine. Why?" His tone was light, almost casual as he slid into the driver's seat. It was as if the fight had never happened. He threw his bag into the back and started the car, the engine rumbling to life.

"You know, the fight," Malia said, trying to keep her voice even. "You guys were really going at it."

Mat's eyes darted to her, then back to the road. "Oh, that. Just part of the game, babe. No big deal."

Malia's jaw tightened. "It looked pretty big to me." She couldn't ignore the fear that had gripped her during the fight.

Mat sighed, his eyes still on the road. "Look, it's just the heat of the moment. Sometimes things get intense out there."

Malia stared out the window, the city lights blurring together as they drove. "I guess," she muttered with a quiet sigh. She knew Mat was trying to downplay it, but she couldn't shake the image of his furious expression.

Mat's hand reached over and gave her thigh a gentle squeeze. "You okay?"

Malia took a deep breath and shifted in her seat, his calloused hand falling away from her skin. "Yeah, just tired I guess. Long day."

It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the full truth either. The fight had left her emotionally drained. She'd seen Mat get competitive, sure, but never violent. It was a side of him she didn't know how to reconcile with the man who made her laugh and supported her studies so wholeheartedly.

The silence in the car grew thick as they approached Mat's apartment. Malia felt a knot in her stomach tighten. This wasn't the same playful tension they usually shared; it was heavier, denser, and less fun. When they pulled into the parking lot, Mat turned to her, his jaw set with tension as if he was bracing for something.

"What's up with you?" he asked, his voice a mix of annoyance and genuine concern.

Malia's eyes rolled before she turned to face him. "What's up with me? I don't know Mat, maybe I just didn't like seeing you like that." Her voice was a mix of anger and fear.

Mat looked at her with a flicker of annoyance in his eyes. "Like what? It's just hockey. Shit like that happens all the time."

Malia's voice grew stronger as she turned to face him fully. "But you've never fought before, at least not since we've been together. What even was that?"

Mat's expression grew defensive. "It happened hours ago, Malia. Why are we even talking about this right now?"

Malia's eyes filled with frustration. "Because it's not just 'shit that happens' to me. That was you out there fighting for... what? Some kind of ego trip?" She knew she was being unfair, but she couldn't help the words from spilling out.

Mat's grip tightened on the steering wheel. "It's not like that, and you know it," he snapped. "It was a cheap hit..." He trailed off, his jaw clenching. Malia remained silent, holding back her growing anger as Mat pulled into a parking spot in the garage. They exited the car, stubbornness palpable in the air between them as they rode the elevator to his floor.

Once inside the apartment, Mat tossed his keys onto the counter and turned to her, his eyes flashing with irritation. "You're overreacting. It's part of the game."

Malia threw her purse onto the couch, her voice rising with frustration. "Maybe for you it is, but I've never seen you like that!" She felt a tremor of fear and anger at his dismissiveness. "What if you had gotten seriously hurt?"

Mat stared at her, his eyes darting over her features as he took a step closer. "That's not going to happen. I know what I'm doing out there."

Malia stepped back, her arms crossing defensively over her chest. "It's not just about you knowing what you're doing. It's about the fact that I don't want to see you like that. It scared me, Mat."

Mat groaned, running a hand through his damp hair. "But I didn't get hurt," he said, his voice still holding on to its edge. "Can we just drop it?"

Malia's eyes narrowed, looking for a hint of understanding. "No, we can't just drop it," she said firmly. "You're not the only one affected by what happens on the ice. You're my boyfriend, and when you're out there fighting like that, it's not just about the game." She turned on her heels, huffing as she stalked off to Mat's bedroom.

Mat followed her, his frustration evident in the heavy thud of his feet on the floor. "What do you want me to say, Malia?" he called after her. "It's not like I was planning on fighting."

Malia spun around in the doorway to the bedroom, her eyes flashing. "I want you to say that you get it. That you understand that I don't want to see you hurt or risking your health over some stupid shit, Mathew." He took a deep breath, his eyes closing as his temper flared again.

Malia turned her back to him, her hands shaking slightly as she unbuttoned her coat. "And for the record," she added, her voice trembling, "The only thing that actually matters to me is that you're okay."

"And I'm completely fine," Mat said, his voice tight as he stepped closer to her. "It's not like it's the first time I've thrown a punch, Malia. I'm not some fragile porcelain doll you have to worry about."

Malia whipped around, her own anger rising to match his. "I don't give a fuck about what you're used to, or what the sport expects from you!" she shouted, her voice echoing through the hallway. "I care about you, and what you do out there affects me! You were a different person out there, and I didn't like it!"

Mat stopped in his tracks, his face a mask of shock. Malia had never raised her voice at him. In fact, the first time they met, he constantly had to ask her to repeat herself with her voice so shy. The sight of her fuming with emotion was enough to make his eyebrows furrow. He took a deep breath, trying to keep his own anger in check.

"What do you want from me?" he asked, his voice low and tight. "I'm out there playing the game I love, trying to win for my team, and for you to sit here and act like it's all about you and what you want..."

"Do you think? Ever?" Malia's voice cracked, the words cutting through the tension like a knife. She didn't mean for it to come out so loud, so harsh, but the fear and frustration had been building up inside her like a pressure cooker. She couldn't stand there any longer, listening to Mat belittle her feelings. She grabbed her bag and stormed out of the bedroom.

Mat followed her, his own anger bubbling to the surface. "What's that supposed to mean?" he demanded, his voice rising to match hers.

"I'm not doing this with you. If you don't want to talk about it, fine, but don't act like I'm some kind of drama queen," Malia retorted, her voice shaking with a mix of anger and hurt. She couldn't believe that he was making it sound like her fear was unreasonable. Her hands shook as she bit back tears, her straightened hair falling out of place from the stress of the evening.

Mat's face softened a little, and he took a step closer to her. "Malia, come on. You're really gonna leave because of this?"

But Malia was already halfway to the door, her heart racing with the need to get out of the apartment. "I don't know," she said, her voice tight with emotion. "I just can't be here right now."

Mat sighed, hesitating to speak for a moment before he reached out to grab her arm. His grip was firm but not painful. "Don't go. I'm being a dick, I know, I'm sorry. Let's just talk this out."

Malia paused, her hand on the doorknob. She took a deep breath, the cold metal feeling solid and reassuring under her fingertips. She turned to face him, her eyes still shiny with unshed tears. "Mat, I'm not trying to control you. I just want you to understand that it's hard to watch someone you care about lose it like that."

Mat let out a frustrated sigh and ran a hand through his hair. "Okay, okay," he said, his voice calmer. "I get it. It's just... he said something about you."

Malia froze. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice low and cold.

Mat sighed heavily, his grip on her arm loosening. "He made a joke, some dumbass, weird joke about you. It pissed me off, and I couldn't just ignore it 'cause he kept goin’." His eyes searched hers, looking for any sign of understanding.

Malia's heart skipped a beat. She had never thought that someone would say something so disrespectful about her, especially not to Mat's face. "What did he say?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Mat's eyes grew dark with anger. "It doesn't matter. It was just a stupid comment, but it hit a nerve."

Malia felt a twist in her stomach. She didn't know what was worse: the fact that Mat had gotten into a fight for her or that someone had talked about her in such a way. "Mat, you can't fight every battle for me," she said softly, turning to face him. "I'm not on the ice, those guys will say whatever they think is gonna rile you up. They don’t know me. I’m just some girl to them. It’s not worth it.”

Mat's expression grew serious as he stepped closer to her, his hand dropping from her arm to cradle her face instead. "You're not just some girl, Malia. You're everything to me. And when someone disrespects you like that..." His voice trailed off, the intensity of his emotions clear in his eyes. "I couldn't just let it go. That's the least I can do for you."

Malia's gaze searched his, the anger in her heart slowly giving way to the love she had for him. She knew he didn't mean to downplay her strength, but the thought of him fighting over her hurt more than she cared to admit. She leaned into his touch, the warmth of his hand grounding her. "I love you," she whispered. "But I don't want you to get hurt because of me."

Mat's expression softened, his thumb tracing gentle circles on her cheek. "I love you too," he murmured. "And I'll do my best to keep my cool out there if that's what you want."

Malia took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the night's events start to lift. "Don't 'if you want' me Mathew Barzal, do it because it's the right thing to do," she said with a hint of a smile.

Mat chuckled, his own smile spreading across his face. "Okay, okay," he conceded, leaning in to kiss her forehead gently. "But you know how competitive I am."

Malia rolled her eyes but couldn't help but feel a warmth spread through her at his touch. "I know," she said, her voice softer. "Just remember that I'm not just some prize to be won or lost out there. I'm your girlfriend, and I chose you."

Mat nodded, his thumb still caressing her cheek. "I know," he murmured. "And I'm sorry that I made it seem like that. It won't happen again." He spoke decisively before bending down to connect their lips.

Malia leaned into the kiss, feeling some of the tension in her shoulders melt away. "I just want you to be safe," she said, her voice muffled against his lips.

Mat pulled back, his eyes searching hers. "I know," he murmured. "And I promise, I'll keep that in mind. I don't want to scare you."

Malia's eyes met his, the fear and anger slowly receding as she saw the sincerity in his gaze. She took another deep breath and nodded. "Okay."

Mat's arms wrapped around her, pulling her into a tight hug. She melted into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body and the steady beat of his heart against her chest. They stood there for a moment, the tension in the room slowly dissipating.

"I know this isn't easy for you," he murmured into her hair. "But you gotta trust me out there."

Malia leaned into his embrace, the smell of his post-game musk mixing with the faint scent of his cologne. It was a familiar scent, one that brought comfort amidst the chaos of her emotions. "I will," she said, her voice muffled by his shoulder.

They stood there for a few moments longer before they both pulled away. Mat smiled down at her, the tension in his face slowly receding. "Now that that's over, do I get a reward for the win tonight?" he asked playfully, his eyes lightening.

Malia couldn't help but roll her eyes, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "Maybe," she said, her voice teasing.

"Only maybe?" Malia heard the playful challenge in Mat's voice as she walked away from him. She glanced over her shoulder and gave him a look that was part glare, part smile.

"You're lucky you scored that winning goal." She brushed past her boyfriend with a swish of her hips, heading towards the bedroom. The bold 'Barzal' stuck out across her back, a symbol of her commitment to supporting him. Mat caught himself staring as Malia turned to him with a flourish of her hair.

"Are you coming?" Malia called over her shoulder, her voice a mix of tease and challenge.

Mat's eyes nearly popped out of his head as he watched her retreating form, his playfulness momentarily forgotten. He hurried after her, trying to match her pace as they entered the bedroom.

"I'm about to be," he quipped, his voice filled with affection, drawing a “Gross!” and a giggle from Malia.

[hhughes]

៹࣪ ៸៸ SAVE A HORSE . . . ꒱꒱

🎞️ (smau) — in which you and mat attend the calgary stampede together . . .

𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒕. mat barzal x gf!reader. 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕. fluff. language. teammate shenanigans. 𝒙𝒐 𝒄𝒂𝒎𝒊. if you’re from calgary, this one is for you. this is a repost from way back but as always reblogs and feedback is appreciated and I hope you liked it <3

yourusername

liked by matbarzal, sydmartin, and others.

yourusername: save a horse, ride a cowboy or whatever they say ��🤠

👤 ; matbarzal & ethanbear

matbarzal: hotter than the weather today babe 🥵

ethanbear: idk man it was pretty hot . . .

yourusername: thanks ethan😪 keeping me humble

user82: mat has such a way with words 😭

sydneymartin: come home the kids miss you. literally. winnie has been asking for you non stop🤍

yourusername: miss my girls. see you guys soon✈️

lianabarzal: thank god mat’s a hockey player then huh

yourusername: 💀💀

matbarzal: I was cowboy for the night😏

lianabarzal: eww🤢

user19: hate that he has a gf but love that he has a gf because we get so much more content of him

user94: and it’s not just any content. it’s pics where he looks the most bf a guy can look

user85: real. thank you queen y/n for your service🙂‍↕️

matbarzal

liked by yourusername, mattmartin, and others.

matbarzal: bc boy meets alberta girl . . . and the rest is history❤️

👤; yourusername

tysonjost: um you mean your best friend introduces one of his friends to you and the rest is history right?

titobeauvillier: ex bestfriend. I said what I said 🤷‍♂️

matbarzal: 🧍🏻

user75: they’re so cute

user71: need mat to keep the cowboy hat on forever I fear

yourusername: I agree 😩

connorbedard: BC >>>

yourusername: oh so what i’m hearing is you don’t wanna come on the rockies road trip with us next week 🙂

connorbedard: BC = Alberta ☹️

yourusername: that’s what I thought

user75: connor is literally their child. I cannot😭

yourusername: thank you for letting me share my hometown with you. love you love you love you❤️🥹

matbarzal: i love you❤️ (and calgary for making you the person you are)

[chukys-mouthguard]

broken memories

sequel to kinda tempting

4.3k words

featuring: mat barzal x female reader x matt rempe

warnings: miscarriage/loss of pregnancy, conversations about loss of pregnancy

The words of the doctor echoed in your ears as you sat in your apartment. Impatiently waiting for Matt to arrive home, picking at your nails as you couldn’t begin to formulate a plan of how to break the unfortunate news. Surely he’d be upset, angry as well. Which would be expected, the grieving process always brings out multiple emotions in everyone.

Trying to practice, your mouth could barely formulate the words. Tears not ceasing, just as you thought you’d pull yourself together you’d get choked up all over again.

The sound of your phone dinging on the couch beside you snapping you from your thoughts for a moment, a simple five minutes away :) text displayed on the screen as you felt your heart sink further into your stomach.

Not wanting to worry Matt too much, you hurried to dry your tears. Rushing to the bathroom to put some cold water on your face in hopes it would tone down the redness your crying had caused.

“Babe? I’m home!”

Hearing Matt’s voice call from the living room you did your best to calm your emotions, putting on a smile as you walked out of the bathroom and down the hall to greet him.

“There she is!”

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest as he kissed your head. Despite your efforts to control your emotions, you felt the tears beginning to form once again.

“And how is baby girl doing?”

The smile on his face broke your heart, his hands caressing your stomach as he kissed over your shirt. His eyes flashing up at yours to see the tears falling, his smile fading immediately as he wrapped you in a hug once again. Unsure as to why you were crying, but trying his best to comfort you.

As his arms wrapped around you, it was as if your world came crashing down. Matt doing his best to console you as you sobbed into his chest, despite you not saying anything he’d figured it out. His own tears formed as he tried to be strong for you, knowing that was what you needed.

“Babe, y/n, can you talk to me, please? Tell me what happened.”

Pulling yourself from his arms you walked to the couch, taking a seat as you tried to explain. Not knowing what to say, he’d clearly figured it out himself, but still needed to hear you confirm.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so fucking sorry Matt.”

He didn’t want to crowd you, giving you space as he sat across from you on the ottoman, his emotions starting to get the better of him.

His gaze was glued to the floor as his hands rested at the back of his neck. You watched as he sat silent, the only sounds in the room were his sharp breaths as he tried to hold back his tears.

Something told you not to comfort him, instead just waiting for him to say something. But words didn’t come, only tears as he softly cried. Hands moving to cover his face as the reality settled in. The excitement of having a little girl was now washed away. No more plans for decorating the nursery together, the constant baby name discussions would now cease, and worst of all he’d have to break the news to his family. He’d just left them a few weeks ago having told them that things were great. And now things were anything but, the world seeming so cruel for having taken your baby from the two of you.

His hands now wiped his tears as he’d settled his breathing. Standing up and slowly pacing the floor as he tried to organize his thoughts. Not wanting to overstep, but needing to know what happened.

“I, I don’t mean to upset you, but, what happened? Do you know?”

“We, we don’t know. The doctor said sometimes there isn’t an explanation, and it seems so unfair, but. God, I hate that you weren’t there that day, having to be there and think it was just a normal routine check in. And it turned so dark so fast the moment we didn’t hear the heartbeat.”

You wiped your tears as Matt stopped in his tracks. A look of confusion now on his face as he glanced over to you.

“Wait, so, this happened at your appointment that was over a week ago?”

Nodding your head you looked at him confused. “Yeah, it was the one I had to schedule while you were in Connecticut because she didn’t have any other open appointments.���

A slight chuckle left his lips as his demeanor had changed from sad to almost annoyed.

“So, you’ve known for over a week, and I just find out now? You didn’t bother to call me to tell me? I could’ve come home, I could’ve been here for you! Why would you keep this from me?”

His voice was laced with hurt and anger, which you expected. It wasn’t that you wanted this to be a secret, but how were you supposed to tell him over the phone?

“Matt, I wasn’t calling or texting you about this! Plus, you had obligations, you couldn’t just back out, you signed contracts.”

“I think they’d fucking understand if I told them my girlfriend just lost our baby!”

Matt’s shout echoed throughout the apartment, despite knowing he’d be upset, this was the last reaction you’d expected. Him to be yelling at you, as if you’d done something wrong. As if you didn’t already feel bad enough, like losing the baby was somehow your fault.

“I can’t believe you kept this from me. I think I’m coming home to you and our baby, but instead-“

“You come home to just me? Gosh I’m sorry I’m not good enough! I’m sorry that I lost the baby, as if I did it on purpose.”

Not bothering to continue the argument Matt retreated down the hall. Slamming the door to your shared bedroom, causing you to jump. Tears continued to run down your cheeks as you could only blame yourself for not telling him sooner. Wishing you would’ve had the guts to break the news right away, maybe you two wouldn’t be fighting when instead you should be comforting one another.

The apartment grew silent after the slam of the door, Matt trying his best to relax, but the idea that you’d kept this from him for over a week not leaving his mind. His eyes moving from the floor to the dresser, landing on the framed photo the two of you used to announce your pregnancy. The two of you were out of focus as you held up the ultrasound photo. Matt holding a mini hockey stick with your due date written across it.

He picked up the frame, his grip on the edge tight as he saw a few tears fall to coat the glass. He remembered how excited he was to take those photos, and how he was even more excited to post them. Being able to share with the world the new journey the two of you would be experiencing.

But now, it all had been ripped out from under him. Having to process the emotions while also wanting to be there for you, despite you having kept the news from him over a week.

His anger slowly began to overtake his sadness once again as he threw the picture frame across the room. The glass shattered as he sat on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands as he sobbed once again. Wishing there was something he could do to make this all better, though he knew there was no changing it.

The shattering glass should’ve caught you off guard, but you knew that Matt was experiencing all the emotions that could be expected with this news. You’d had a week to process things and start grieving, but now it was his turn. As much as you wanted to run and comfort him, you knew he’d want to be alone. Needing to get out his anger and frustration however he felt would help.

Minutes, possibly an hour had gone by before Matt finally emerged from your bedroom. His clothes were now different as he searched the kitchen counter for his phone, appearing to be heading out.

“You’re leaving?”

Despite not trying to sound annoyed, you didn’t manage to hide it. Matt typing a text on his phone before he bothered to look up at you. Grabbing his keys from the counter as he slipped his hands into his pockets.

“Yeah, I am. I’m not sitting around here all night crying about this. If you want to do that, have fun. Although you’ve known for over a week, and I just found out thirty minutes ago. So excuse me if I’m gonna deal with this in my own way.”

Another slam of a door and he was gone. Your heart broke to see him so hurt, as if you had any other option. Knowing he was probably heading to meet up with some of the guys that had also come back into town for workouts before training camp would start back up. And while you knew he’d probably be going to get drunk or do anything to get his mind off of the news, you wished he would’ve stayed with you.

But your tears were now ceasing as you’d tried to pull yourself together. Reaching for your phone hoping social media could be some sort of distraction. You’d tried getting some work done earlier for the Rangers socials, but didn’t make it far, clearly obvious as you opened your Tik Tok to see a message asking if you wished to continue editing a post you’d quickly given up on.

As you closed out the message, a Tik Tok soon filled your screen that had been filtered for you since it was hockey related. And as the images of Mat Barzal getting down on one knee flashed before your eyes, followed by scenes of posing and kissing, you felt your heart break all over again.

The girl soon came into view and of all people for him to be engaged to, she was the last person you ever hoped to see.

While your relationship with Mat had hardships, you’d thought they were all things you could work through. Even the secret meetups and behind your back texts he’d been sending to this mystery girl you’d come to learn was named Ava.

You never told anyone, hoping it was something you could work through despite the rift it had caused. Partially being the reason you’d gone off and slept with Matt Rempe in the first place. You were so hurt to think it was easy for someone to do that to you, to think they would never get caught. And he didn’t, because you never outed him. You loved him so much that the second he’d shown a bit of improvement, you were sure that Ava was out of the picture and he was done with her.

Turns out you were wrong.

Had he been waiting to end things with you so he could be with her? It had only been five months since things ended between you two because of your pregnancy, to get engaged that quickly it was clear he’d never cut ties.

You knew you shouldn’t be hurt, but deep down you still loved Mat, you always would. If you could go back and change everything, you’d do it in a heartbeat. But unfortunately the world didn’t work that way, and you had to deal with the cards you’d been dealt.

Not wanting to sit and sulk in your apartment any longer, you searched for your keys. Slipping on your shoes before heading out the door.

No destination in mind, just driving until you’d run out of energy or gas, whichever came first. It wasn’t until you’d seen signs for an all too familiar exit that you had realized where your subconscious had brought you.

The sign for Elmont made your heart ache, thinking of the memories that lived in this city. Muscle memory leading you to the parking garage connected to the apartment you used to call home. Finding a spot before you headed up to floor thirteen.

You wondered what the hell you were doing here, why you’d thought this idea was at all a good one. But if you were honest, you weren’t thinking at all. Your emotions getting the best of you as you reach to knock on the door, no chance to turn back.

The door opened and you could’ve sworn your heart stopped. Seeing the familiar face behind it gives you goosebumps as you hadn’t thought even for a second what if someone else had opened the door.

“Y/n?”

Mat stared at you confused as you were the last person he’d expected to see at his door. Though you’d not thought of what you’d say if he was home, you knew this was the only time you’d probably get to say anything at all.

“Five months? It only took you five months to move on? Not to mention with her?”

Mat rolled his eyes as he rested an arm against the door, not wanting to argue with you when he knew there was no point.

“Y/n really? You don’t even know her to say anything about what I choose to do and with whom.”

“I know you were cheating on me with her Mat, you think I was oblivious to it?”

His eyes went wide as pushed his arm off the door, pulling you inside as this wasn’t a conversation he wanted the neighbors overhearing.

“I’m sorry?”

“You think I didn’t know? I knew about it all, but I loved you so much I thought we’d get past it. You started to change your behavior and I thought you were done with her. But clearly you never stopped, and now you’re fucking engaged to her?”

Your voice rang throughout his apartment as you paced the floor. Tears not able to form in your eyes as you’d surely cried every last one over the past week and a half. Mat let out a scoff as he watched you, waiting for an opportunity to spit back at you.

“Really? You’re going to scold me after you did the same fucking thing? If not worse? You cheated on me too, remember? And you’re fucking pregnant with that guys kid! How could we have ever recovered from that? I did cut ties with her, when I started changing my behavior it was genuine. Because I hated knowing I was doing that shit behind your back, because I loved you! And then you go and break my heart like that. So don’t try to paint me as the bad guy here okay? And why do you care anyways, you’re busy prepping for a baby with your boyfriend.”

His shouts were louder than yours as you could hear the anger that still lingered, the hurt he still felt at what you’d done. And while two wrongs certainly didn’t make a right, you both couldn’t change what you’d done. Whether it was one time, or ten, you’d both hurt one another with your actions.

Hearing him mention you being pregnant, you couldn’t help but wonder if you should tell him. Not that it would change a thing, he’d moved on and you were with Matt, but you felt he deserved to know.

“Not anymore.”

Your voice was soft, barely above a whisper as Mat’s angered expression quickly turned to one of confusion.

“Wait, what? You guys didn’t-“

“God no, I’d never do that. I lost the baby.”

He immediately regretted his words that he’d spat at you like they were nothing. How angry he’d sounded as he shouted at you, wishing he could have controlled his frustrations better.

“Oh my god, y/n, I’m so sorry. Come here.”

The familiar feeling of his arms wrapped around you was all it took for you to break down once again. His hold on you makes you forget any of your own frustrations as he tries his best to console you. Though he knew nothing he said would be good enough, there was nothing he could say that would make this better.

“I’m such an idiot, I didn’t know, I wouldn’t have-“

“Stop, it’s okay. Like you said, you didn’t know.”

He hated seeing you so broken. He knew despite the circumstances, you were excited to be a mother. And he wanted that for you, even if it was with someone else. But to know you’d lost the opportunity, in the most unexpected of ways, it broke his heart. You didn’t deserve that, no matter if you’d hurt him and done your own wrongs. No one deserves to go through the hurt you were.

“How is Matt handling the news?”

The two of you had eventually moved to the couch, Mat getting you some water and tissues as you’d finally been able to calm down a bit.

“Not well, at all. He’s angry, and hurt. Because I didn’t tell him right away. I couldn’t. He was on the road, that’s never something I would’ve texted or told him over the phone. But, he’s mad at me for it. I think he wants to believe it would’ve changed something, had he been here for the appointment.”

Mat listened intently, still unsure what was the right response. Of course never experiencing something like this he wanted to be sensitive to your emotions, but he didn’t want to stay too quiet.

“Well, I think he definitely needs time. Especially having not found out at the same time as you. But, how are you doing?”

He cautiously reached for your hand, not wanting to come across any particular way, but sensing you could use some comfort and reassurance. Despite all that happened, he still loved you, that was never going to change.

“I, I’m okay. Not great, but okay. I’ve just spent this last week and half really thinking about everything. Thinking about the future now that all our plans are going to be changing out of nowhere. I shouldn’t even be thinking about this right now, but, part of me thinks that Matt and I won’t make it through this.”

No matter his opinion of your relationship, Mat wanted the best for you. He wanted you happy, but the way you were talking. The change in your facial expression, he could read you like a book.

“I think you’re overthinking things, sure he’s upset now. But I’m sure once he takes some time to work through his feelings, you two will be okay!”

A slight chuckle left your lips as you shook your head.

“No, I’m not talking about that. I’m saying, if I hadn't gotten pregnant, he and I wouldn’t even be together right now. I’d still be with you, we’d be the ones planning a wedding. I don’t want to sound cold or heartless, but deep down I know I’m only with him because of the baby. If I had things my way, you know it would be you.”

His fingers tangled with yours as he smirked, the thought unbeknownst to you had also crept through his mind a few times. Wondering what if countless times.

What if he’d never snuck around behind your back, what if you hadn’t done the same to him. What if you’d never gotten pregnant, what if he’d still had you as his fiance. Surely you would have been married by now, even maybe expecting a baby of your own. At least, that’s how Mat would have planned it if he had the choice.

“Well, as much as I’d love to say that it still could be, things aren’t exactly that easy. Plus, you don’t even know if you and Matt are actually going to break up because of everything. Just, try to not get ahead of yourself, okay?”

He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze as he checked his phone, noticing the time and hating to rush you out. But you knew you couldn’t stay longer, needing to get home so Matt didn’t wonder where you were.

He walked you to the door, wrapping you in a hug as he apologized once again.

“Listen, you need anything, and I mean anything, please don’t ever feel like you cannot come to me. Okay? I don’t care what happened, I love you, I always will, and I will always be here for you.”

Mat kissed your head before he said goodbye, watching you head down the hall as you dreaded the drive back home not knowing which Matt you would be coming home to. Whether or not he’d be drunk after drowning his feelings, or if he would have trashed more things in the apartment.

But as you returned home, you’d realized he wasn’t back yet. Leaving you to assess the damage from earlier when he’d retreated to your bedroom. Your eyes immediately falling on the shattered picture frame, your pregnancy announcement photo now laying on the floor. As if an accurate representation for how life now felt, a mess of broken memories.

The sound of the door opening letting you know Matt was home, his keys clanging against the counter as you heard him making his way down the hall. Leaning against the door frame he watched as you finished cleaning up the glass, placing the photo on the dresser as you headed for the kitchen in need of a trash can.

“Can we talk?”

His voice was soft, a little hoarse as if he’d been crying. You looked at him with a blank expression, heading to the couch as you assumed he’d follow suit. Which he did, finding a place on the couch as he sighed. The two of you sat in silence for what felt like thirty minutes before either of you spoke.

“I’m sorry that you had to go through that alone. I hate I wasn’t here for you, to comfort you while you experienced the roller coaster of emotions that can come with news like that. And I hate that you felt you couldn’t tell me before I came home tonight, but I hope you understand my frustrations. I didn’t mean to walk out on you, but I had a lot to think about.”

“Like what?”

A look of confusion washed over you as he tossed his hat to the side, running a hand through his hair. A deep sigh left his lips as he took a second to gather his thoughts.

“Losing the baby opened my eyes to a lot of things, and as much as I try to convince myself otherwise, I just don’t think I can do this. We both know, whether we want to admit it or not, we are only here right now because of the baby. If you wouldn’t have gotten pregnant, you and Mat would probably be married right now. This was never real, as much as we wanted it to be for the baby. It was never going to be me, no matter how much I hoped it would be. No matter how easily we fell into this routine trying to make this work. Without the baby, what are we?”

Despite having had the same thoughts, it didn’t make this conversation hurt any less. The idea that you weren’t wrong for thinking the baby was the only thing keeping you and Matt together. No matter how hard you tried convincing yourself that the feelings were real and you were happy with Matt, deep down it didn’t feel right. Sure being with the father of your child made sense, it felt natural, the right thing to do. But when that man was the person you’d cheated on your boyfriend with, never anything more, it was hard to make a relationship work from that.

“I don’t hate you, I have so much love in my heart for you. I wish this could have been our story, but maybe, as shitty as this is losing our baby. Maybe this was our sign that it wasn’t meant for us, at least not together.”

You hadn’t noticed any tears until Matt reached out to wipe one from your cheek, his hand resting to caress your cheek.

“I’m gonna pack up as much of my stuff as I can tonight, I’m gonna go stay with the Quick’s for a little bit while I continue my training before camp. I’ll come back and get the rest of my things as I’m able.”

Nodding your head you took a deep breath, smiling up at him despite the pain you felt. Never imagining this day to come, thinking the two of you were in this for the rest of your lives.

You watched as Matt retreated to the bedroom, packing up whatever he could take with him. Keeping your space to let him take care of things as you tried to keep busy tidying up the apartment.

The sound of him shuffling down the hall made you stop your cleaning, meeting him by the front door as he gave you a soft smile. Dropping his bags as he wrapped you in a hug, kissing your head before reaching for the door.

“If you need anything, I’m just a call away okay?”

With that, he was gone, and the apartment once again felt ten times larger being there alone. Checking the time you knew you needed to go to bed, the day having drained every last ounce of energy from you.

Searching for your phone you’d found it on the couch, realizing you never bothered to text Mat you’d made it home safe. Not that you expected him to worry, his offer to text him if you needed anything seemed like a subconscious thing said in passing.

To: Mat Barzal

Made it home safe, been dealing with a bit…matt packed his things and left

[behoright]

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.

⊹　 　　🎧　 　　 ⁾⁾　

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.”

[doc-pickles]

voicemail | mat barzal

summary: you’ve left mat many voicemails in the last few months, but he finally listens to them

warnings: mentions of pregnancy and childbirth

a/n: head empty no thoughts. enjoy!

xoxo nina

“Hey you’ve reached Mat. Leave a message after the beep.”

“Mat it’s me… I know we haven’t talked for few months but I would really appreciate it if you called me back.”

“Hey me again. Please call me back, I really need to talk to you.”

“Listen I know we broke up but… This is super important. I wouldn’t be calling if it wasn’t. Please Mat.”

“Since you won’t pick up the phone I’ll just say it. I’m pregnant, Mat. It’s yours. Please… Just let me know you’ve gotten my calls and texts.”

“I don’t want money or anything, I just want you to know about our son and have the chance to be there for him. Call me please.”

“Hey, me again… If you don’t want to be apart of this that’s fine I just… I need you to tell me so I’m not sitting around with this false hope that you’ll show up for us.”

“Mat my water broke and I’m so scared. All I want is you. If you were ever going to pick up the phone now would be the time. Please babe, I can’t do this without you.”

“Matty…. He looks just like you. Please… please pick up the phone.”

+

“Fuck… C’mon Grey,” you groaned quietly as you rocked your two week old son. He was crying loudly and nothing you’d done yet seemed to help. “Bubs please, mama is trying her best.”

His wails continued, your shoulders slumping in defeat as you rocked back and forth. You were seconds away from crying right alongside your little boy.

A knock on the door interrupted your thoughts. Your brow furrowed but you moved toward it anyways. With a wince you glanced at your reflection in the hallway mirror. Your hair was messily piled on your head, the dark circles under your eyes were almost purple, and you had spit up on your shirt.

“Hold on Greyson, I’m just gonna answer the… door…,” your voice faltered as you pulled the door open to reveal Mat standing there. His hair was sticking up as if he’d been running his hands through it and his eyes were puffy. “Mat?”

Mat didn’t say anything as his eyes locked on Greyson who was still loudly wailing, unaware of the tension boiling between his parents. He blinked a few times before he looked up at you with watery eyes, “Is… Is that him? Is that our son?”

Your lip trembled as you looked up at Mat, heart aching in your chest as your eyes met, “You didn’t answer my calls.”

“I know.”

“You missed my whole pregnancy.”

“I know.”

“You weren’t there to hold my hand when he was born. I…,” tears welled in your eyes, quickly spilling over as you and Mat stood across from each other. “What- why now? What the hell are you doing here Mat?”

You fell into full on sobs as Mat stepped forward and pulled you into his arms, both you and Greyson crying against his chest. His arms held you close as he whispered apologies and sweet words to you.

“I’m so sorry baby, I’ll explain everything. Okay? I’ll tell you everything,” Mat whispered against your hair. You couldn’t do anything but cry along with your son, your shoulders deflating as Mat held you. “It’s okay, I got you. I got you both.”

When Mat gently grabbed Greyson from your arms you didn’t hesitate to hand him over. You’d been rocking him for close to two hours and you were delirious and exhausted from trying to calm your son.

“I’ll hold him while you take a nap,” Mat pressed a kiss to your forehead, holding you close for a moment. “I’m here baby, I got you.”

You laid in bed for a few minutes simply staring at the ceiling. You and Mat had gone through a civil breakup, ending things solely because you rarely saw each other. Between his job and yours your schedules were hard to coordinate and it had put unnecessary stress on both of you.

When you’d both decided to break off your relationship you spent the whole night in bed together. You couldn’t even begin to count how many times you and Mat had made love, chuckling as you realized that’s probably when Greyson was conceived.

With a sigh you laid down, your eyes immediately shutting as you drifted off to sleep thinking about you and Mat and your son.

+

Your body wakes you up, the breastmilk leaking through your top a sure sign that you’ve missed a feeding. With a groan you changed before going to hunt down Mat and Grey.

Stretched out across your couch is Mat, Greyson on his bare chest. His eyes scanned over every inch of your son as if he didn’t want to miss a single detail.

“Hi,” you whispered from the doorway, Mat’s eyes finally breaking away from Grey to meet your eyes. “I need to feed him, my boobs are killing me.”

Mat didn’t make any jokes, much to your surprise, as he sat up and handed Greyson over to you. You sat on the opposite end of the couch and quickly latched the baby onto your breast before you looked back over to Mat. His head was in his hands, bent over as he heaved a deep sigh.

“Mat-“

“I’m so sorry,” he cut you off, eyes still locked on the floor. “I… Fuck… After we broke up I was a mess. I started- ah, hooking up with this girl Hayley. It was casual, I literally never saw her outside of our hookups but she clearly wanted more.”

Your heart clenched as Mat told you about this other woman, but you let him keep going. You knew he wouldn’t be telling you this if there wasn’t a point to it all.

“We started casually dating. Just dinner or a movie before we… You know… Anyways last night I woke up to her going through my phone,” Mat stopped, finally pulling his head away from his hands as he looked up at you. “She had been deleting all your messages. I kicked her out and they were all there so I… I listened to every single one and then I drove over here. As soon as I knew I was on your doorstep. I’m so sorry. If I’d known, if I’d heard that first message I would’ve been here for everything.”

You hadn’t even realized you were crying until Mat leaned over to brush the tears staining your cheeks. You met his eyes, hurt and sincerity floating in them.

“I can never stop apologizing for missing all of this but I swear I’ll be here for every moment from here on out,” Mat whispered as he caressed your cheek. “Okay?”

You nodded as Mat kissed your forehead just as Grey let out a whine in your arms. Mat chuckled as you gently patted his back and coaxed a burp out of the infant, “He didn’t wanna be ignored.”

“He’s an attention seeker, just like his dad,” you snorted and watched as Mat’s face lit up. You handed Grey back to him, smiling as your son curled right into him. “He also already looks just like you. Figures since he has your name.”

Mat’s brows furrowed as he looked from Greyson to you, “My name?”

“Greyson Mathew,” Mat’s eyes widened as you grinned. “I knew you wouldn’t have ignored me on purpose or out of spite. And I don’t know what stopped me from just marching down to your place with my huge belly and waiting until you talked to me. I think a part of me was scared that maybe you would reject me to my face. I don’t know but… I’m glad you’re here now.”

Mat pulled you into his side, cuddling you into him as he pressed a kiss to your hair. Grey squirmed around for a second but calmed as you put your hand over Mat’s on his back. The scene was sweet and intimate, what you’d been dreaming of since you found out you were pregnant.

Everything was perfect.

+

“Grey’s screaming,” you groaned as you cuddled into Mat’s chest. “It’s too early for screaming Mathew.”

Mat chuckled as he slowly extracted himself from your hold, “I’ll go get the gremlin. You just lay there and look pretty.”

You grinned up at Mat as he left the room, heading down the hall towards Greyson’s room. A harsh kick landed against your stomach and you groaned, settling your hand against the slight curve of your belly.

“Your brother is already causing a ruckus, I don’t need you too,” you chuckled as another kick hit your hand. “Calm down sweet girl or daddy is gonna come in here and rile you up.”

“My girl is awake?” Mat asked excitedly from the doorway, Greyson on his hip with an identical smile to Mat’s as you rolled your eyes. “Lemme feel her.”

Greyson plopped himself onto the bed and curled into your side, watching with wide eyes as Mat leaned down to whisper to your belly.

“Baby!”

“Yup that’s your baby sister,” you giggled as Mat pressed a kiss to your belly. “Enough Mathew, you already know she’s gonna be a daddy’s girl.”

“I know,” Mat groaned as he looked up at you with a smirk. “But I didn’t get to experience this with Grey. I want to make the most of this.”

You smiled and ran a hand through Mathew’s curls, your wedding rings glinting in the morning light as his cheek pressed against your belly, “You’re an amazing dad Mat, have been from day one. We’re very lucky to have you.”

“I couldn’t imagine my life without you three,” Mat smirked at you before he leaned up and kissed you softly. “Thank you for giving us a family.”

“Thanks for listening to your voicemails,” you grinned as he leaned into your side.

[midnightsnyx]

girl at home | mat barzal | part 4

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: not edited, angst, mentions of alcohol, pregnancy, food word count: 1.3k authors note: sorry it's late & short but i was sick and then had writers block. i hope u guys like it!! if u like it let me know but if you hate it also let me know. also HUGE thanks to @barzysbaby for the help with this chapter!! it probably wouldn't have been finished without your help! if anyone wants to be added or taken off the tag list, let me know! you can shoot me a dm, send an ask or fill out my tag list form.

requests are open 🫶🏻 masterlist masterpost ask box taglist form

After your unexpected heart-to-heart with Mat, you begin to realize that you’re starting to tread on some thin ice with your relationship with him. Letting those feelings you’d tucked away start to come back was a recipe for disaster because you had Nora to think about. If he really wanted to be a part of her life, the two of you couldn’t start a relationship because if it went wrong, it would ruin the opportunity for him to be in her life comfortably. 

However, the problem is how perceptive Nora can be. 

Letting yourself have ‘just one moment’ with Mat last night was a bad idea because you wake up on the couch the next morning, Mat holding you close, and a grumpy six-year-old demanding breakfast. 

“Eggs please,” Nora demands, curious eyes watching you and Mat. When you make no move to get up off the couch and get her breakfast, she stomps a foot and crosses her arms.

“Grandma said I could have eggs for breakfast,” she says and then pauses before adding: “and she said I could have pancakes. Chocolate chip pancakes.”

“You’re not at grandma’s, are you?” you reply, watching her frown. 

“Well then can you bring me to grandma’s?” she replies without missing a beat.

You open your mouth to tell her no, you won’t be bringing her to grandmas with that attitude when Mat interrupts. 

“I’ll make some pancakes,” he mumbles sleepily, sitting up and pulling you with him. You turn to tell him no but your mouth goes dry because you forgot how good he looks in the morning. You’re staring long enough that he notices and a smirk tugs at his mouth but he doesn’t say anything, instead standing up and offering a hand to Nora. 

“Let’s go make mom some pancakes,” he says and she smiles up at him and it’s just so damn domestic that you want to cry.  

You watch them walk over to the kitchen and start preparing the ingredients while you sit there, trying to pull yourself together. He’s falling so seamlessly into being a parent that you can’t decide how to feel. His attentiveness and patience with her could be temporary and then when he realizes how hard being a parent really is, you’ll be left to clean up the mess he leaves behind. On the other hand, he might be serious about the entire thing and everything could work out.

Nora's giggles catch your attention and you look to see Mat cracking an egg on her forehead like the video he had sent you a few days ago, claiming that he would try it on Nora. Almost as if he can sense that you’re watching them, he looks up and catches your eye and grins, tilting his head slightly.

“You wanna help or just sit there all morning?” he teases so you stand up and make your way to the kitchen to stand next to Nora, kissing the forehead when she grins up at you. 

“How can I help?”

. . .

It was inevitable that the hockey world would catch wind that Mathew Barzal had a child. Whether it was his now ex-girlfriend, or just someone from home that spilled the beans, suddenly all the sports sites had articles up about it. They can't legally say Nora’s name or show photos of her because she’s still a minor, but they can definitely dig up old high school pictures and find your instagram.

It wasn’t hard to put the pieces together for people to realize that you were his baby mama. You had to turn your social media accounts private because you were suddenly having people comment on your photos, and sending DM’s. Most of them weren’t the nicest, accusing you of kid-trapping Mat and while you knew that it was useless to be upset over it, it was hard. They didn’t and would never know the details but it bothered you to no end, and unfortunately, you took your frustration out on Mat, who took whatever you threw at him. You said things you regretted the next morning and he would just smile and tell you it was fine. 

But it wasn’t, and everything crashed down about two weeks after the first article was posted. You woke up to your phone buzzing, calls and texts from your mom, Jax, some other friends and even Liana. 

And a single text from Mat that had just two words, and a link attached.  

baby daddy: I'm sorry. instagram.com/matbarzal 

It was a statement, clearly written by a PR Manager from the Islanders organization. The statement basically said that Mathew Barzal did not in fact have a child. It was just a rumor floating around that a disgruntled fan spread. A lot of people called it bullshit, saying that it was PR cleaning up a mess, which technically they were doing. Then, there were the fans and journalists who did believe the statement and tried to take back whatever they may have said that was mean. 

It wasn’t the things other people were saying about it though, it was what Mat wasn’t saying. After the post, he ghosted you for four days, ignoring all the texts and calls even when they were about Nora. Liana and Nadia still asked to see Nora on the weekend that she normally does so you dropped her off Friday evening, noticing that Mat’s car was nowhere to be seen. Nadia and Liana didn’t say anything about the situation, just thanking you for letting Nora stay over for the night and promising to call if anything came up. You didn’t have anything planned so you went back to your apartment, hoping to catch up on some overdue work you’d been letting pile up.

Halfway through writing a draft for a chapter, there’s a knock on your door. You’re once again suspecting it to be Nadia or Liana with Nora but you come face to face with Mat.

Again.

His eyes are trained on the ground, refusing to meet yours. There are a thousand things you want to say, most of them not nice at all but what comes out is: “beer?” 

His head shoots up, clearly not expecting that response from you but he nods his head and walks in when you step to the side. He toes off his shoes and walks straight towards the kitchen. By instinct, he opens the fridge to get himself a drink and then pauses, looking at you sheepishly.

“Beer?”

“Water,” you reply and he nods, passing you a bottle of water. You both sit at the kitchen island, drinking your respectable drinks in silence until he clears his throat.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t know that they were going to write that. Our public relations manager wrote it and just told me to post it. My agent asked her to clean things up a little because it was getting out of hand. I didn’t want to hurt you or Nora, I swear.” 

“It’s too late for that,” you say sharply. “You said you want to be in Nora’s life but she can’t be a secret, Mat! You can’t say you want to try, and then turn around and tell the world that she’s not yours. If you’re not going to be in this one-hundred percent, then you shouldn’t be here at all.” 

He must take your last statement as a dismissal because he stands up, slips his shoes on and leaves, closing the door a little harder than necessary. 

You sit in silence far too long, part of you foolishly hoping that Mat will come back but you know he won’t. Not today at least. So, you go back to working on your draft but you can’t focus. Part of you wants to try and put yourself in his shoes, to try and understand why he didn’t fight harder against what public relations wanted but you can’t. You can’t imagine not being Nora’s mom and you wonder if maybe this is the way out he was hoping for. Maybe he decided that being a parent was fun for a little while, but when he understood the real consequences and struggles that come along with it, he realized he didn’t want it. That he didn’t want Nora.

Maybe this is his out.

tag list: @literatureluster @dasiysthings @barzyblogbabe @teapartydreams @diary-of-jj @heatherawoowoo @fallinallincurls @topguncultleader @shadowsndaisies @lovinbarzal

[lam-ila]

Sing Your Heart Out as Your Ex Watches || Mat Barzal

Summary: Singer!reader performing at the NHL All Star Game while their ex watches.

Word Count: 851

Warnings: jealousy from an unnamed ex who plays in the NHL, slight mention of said ex being a bad boyfriend

please let me know if you find more that i should add

NHL Masterlist

a/n: this short little fic was inspired by this post by @islesnucks and was quickly written (busted it out in an hour)

this is gender neutral. hope you enjoy this! feedback is appreciated

LIKES ARE GREAT, REBLOGS ARE BETTER ♡

You were an up and coming singer, and was pretty well known in the hockey world. Growing up a hockey fan had a big influence in your life; your most famous music video included you wearing some hockey gear, grabbing the attention of hockey players, fans, and organizations.

You were already connected to the hockey world with your boyfriend, Mat Barzal, being a well known hockey player for the New York Islanders. Unfortunately, you were also connected to the hockey world through your ex... who also played in the NHL.

You had been broken up with your ex for two and a half years and you had been with Mat for a little over a year. You couldn't have been happier with Mat, he was everything your ex wasn't: sweet, respectful, kind to your family and friends, the list could go on and on. So when you were confirmed to be at the NHL All Star weekend before your boyfriend was, he couldn't have been prouder.

A few weeks later, the All Stars were announced and Mat's name was listed as one of the players; it was your turn to be proud of him. However, upon reading the list of players who would accompany Mat as All Stars, you frowned at the sight of your ex's name. You brushed it off as your joy that Mat was an All Star overpowered your sadness that your ex was also an All Star.

Since you were performing, you were listed as one of the four celebrity captains. You of course drafted your boyfriend as your first pick resulting in the fans, both yours and his, going wild in person and over social media. Your and Mat's names were all over social media the entire weekend with your ex's name sometimes following your names as he seemingly didn't even try to hide his jealousy that you were happily with Mat. Your ex's obvious jealousy didn't bother you at the time, you were secure in yourself and your relationship as was Mat.

Your and Mat's names appearing on social media only increased on the Saturday, when you were behind the bench that Mat sat upon. Clips of you strategizing play and semi-flirtatiously bossing Mat around were all over the tags relating to the both of you and the NHL All Star Game.

You were set to perform after the second game of the day before the third and final game of the day. At first, you were excited to perform, however, as the All Star weekend went by, you were increasingly getting nervous about performing in front of your ex. As you were getting ready with your backup dancers in the arena's home team locker room, you realized how un-ready you were to perform in front of him. Your backup dancers noticed your nervousness and one of them texted Mat that he needed to come to calm your nerves. Once Mat arrived, you didn't look his way as he expected, signaling that you were lost in your thoughts.

"Hi," he said after cautiously approached you and sitting next to you, worried that he would abruptly break you out of your thoughts.

"Hi," you repeated, a slight smile accompanying your greeting as you met his gaze.

"What's going on in that pretty head of yours?" he asked, gently grabbing your hands and holding them in his as if saying 'you can't avoid this conversation'.

"I have to perform in front of him," You didn't have to say his name for Mat to know that you were talking about your ex. "Him being here wasn't bothering me Thursday, or yesterday, or even earlier today, so I don't know why I'm worried."

"I do," You looked at Mat, confused as to how he knew, but you didn't. "You're worried because it's the first time you perform in front of him since you broke up with him. And I completely understand that." Mat paused, allowing you to talk if you wanted to, but your silence showed him that he could continue. "But you know what? He's been jealous this whole weekend. He can't stand how well you're doing for your singing career without him by your side."

"And he can't stand that I have a boyfriend who's better than him in every way," you added, causing Mat to giddily smile and blush. You took a deep breath, your hands still in Mat's, before adding, "I can do this."

"Now that's the positive self talk I want to hear!" Mat squeezed your hands before letting go, standing up to lean down and give you a chaste kiss on your lips. "I want you to go out there and sing your heart out while your ex watches. Relish in the glory because you've earned it."

"I have?" you asked, standing up in front of Mat.

"You have," he reassured, "and that's all your work that allowed you to get to this point." With one last kiss - the good luck kiss as Mat called it - he was gone, re-joining his NHL peers on the ice waiting for your performance of a lifetime.

——————————

NHL taglist: @readyfreddy @jostystyles @jimothystu @typical-simplelove @2manytabsopen @11livpangburn @matthewkniesys @lifeofpriya @fallinallincurls

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[luvhughes43]

how does it make you feel | mat barzal

[luvhughes43 masterlist🌙]

face claim: 3x grammy winner victoria monét <3

barzalsource13

liked by ynuser, and 457 others

barzalsource mat at ynuser album party last night!

tagged: barzal97

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user01 thats so strange why would he perform at yns album party?

user02 a bunch of her close friends, musicians, etc all performed! i just didnt know they knew each other lol omfg

user03 HE KNOWS YN??? OHH WE WON!

user04 he's a jaguar stan.. ohh i knew it!

user05 yn liking this?? since whennn

ynuser

liked by barzal97, arianagrande, tyla, and 439 002 others

ynuser thank u all for the love last night <3 remember to pre-save jaguar II which will be out next friday🐆🤎

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arianagrande in love with you !!!!!

arianagrande im screaming!! nobody is ready for this album

barzal97 you killed it last night!❤️‍🔥

liked by ynuser

user06 how tf does he know yn? im so confused...

user07 I LOVE YOU SM!!!

barzal97

liked by arianagrande, ynuser, titobeauvi91, and 41 125 others

barzal97 we look good 🐆

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taylaparx hottest couple

user08 THE JAGUAR EMOJI THATS LITERALLY YNS - AND THE CAPTION?? THATS ON MY MAMA LYRICS JUST ALTERED

user09 YN???????

user10 i wishhh

user09 ariana liked and thats her bff it must be yn

user11 WAIT GUYS SHE JUST LIKED*&#(&! ITS CONFIRMED IM SCREAMING!! THE FIRST PIC IS HIM AT HER ALBUM PARTY

ynuser

liked by barzal97, titobeauvi91, hallebailey, and 571 237 others

ynuser 2 more days till jaguar II is yours 🐆🤎🤎

view all comments

barzal97 counting down🐆

user12 AHH LITERALLY CANNOT WAIT <333

user13 WAIT THE SECOND SLIDE?? WHO IS THAT

user14 she posted a soft launch too%#^@*^^@&*

user14 mat and yn... he really won!

user15 mats comments on all her posts?? hes so down bad as he should be!

barzal97 just posted !

liked by ynuser, barzalsource13, and 378 912 others

barzal97 my baby released an album! everyone go stream jaguar II out on all platforms now!🐆🤎

tagged: ynuser

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ynuser love youu 🤎🤎

barzal97 im so fcking proud of you. this is your moment!! love you always!

titiobeauvi91 albums on repeat!

user16 HE CONFIRMED??? IM ON THE FLOOR

user17 MAT AND YN??? I MEAN WE BASICALLY KNEW BUT OMFG

user18 hottest couple omggggggg

ynuser

liked by barzal97, arianagrande, normani, and 421 091 others

ynuser how does it make you feel? to be loved for real? 🎶

tagged: barzal97

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barzal97 we were by design ❤️‍🔥

ynuser were aligned!🤎

hallebailey love you guys!!!

user19 best song off the album

user20 this album is insane. its been on repeat !

user21 my parents omfg i love them so bad

user22 my husband has a gf

user23 most unlikely but best couple🙏

5 months later...

barzalsource13

liked by trevorzegras, and 574 others

barzalsource13 mat seen leaving the beverly hilton hotel just in time for the grammy red carpet! we love a bf showing up for his girl!

tagged: barzal97

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user24 oh he looks so good

user25 yn will win all her awards tonight🕯🕯

user26 ohh thats boyfriendism right there!

ynuser just posted !

liked by barzal97, adutakech, alexialuria, and 671 921 others

ynuser words cant even describe this feeling... grammys 2024🏆🤎

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arianagrande tonights yours!🤍🫧

barzal97 my god... ❤️‍🔥

user27 U LOOK FINE! U LOOK GOOD! ON MY MAMA SOTY

user28 grammy nominated and future winner yn!

ynuser reposted !

barzal97 just posted !

liked by ynuser, barzalsource13, trevorzegras, and 239 781 others

barzal97 do i even need a caption? it was my girls motherfucking moment ❤️‍🔥

tagged: ynuser

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ynuser tonight is just unreal

barzal97 you deserve it all! tonights for you🥂

titobeauvi91 deserved every award 🔥

ny_islanders our shinning star💙✨

barzalsource13 AND SHE DID IT!! 3X GRAMMY WINNER YN

user29 barz dating a 3 grammy winning artist.. so real

user30 loveeee this and them

user31 im sobbing this is the best thing to ever happen to me

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[drewsbuzzcut]

That’s That Me, Espresso

Mat Barzal x model!fem!reader

A visceral in doses fic

Warnings: alcohol consumption, smut and mentions exhibitionism🤭 (bolded italics are flashbacks)

Takes place this summer

Mat has the perfect view from his floating in the pool. You’re on the chaise lounge, soaking up the vibrant sun rays. Your tortoise shell sunglasses sit perfectly on the bridge of your nose and you’re donned in the tiniest, pale yellow bikini. The cups of your top do the bare minimum at keeping you covered, but Mat has no complaints about it. He loves being able to see the sheen of sweat painting your skin, making it look extremely soft and silky. Don’t even get him started with the way your boobs rise and fall with every breath of air you take.

It’s like you know he’s watching when you adjust your form. His eyes follow the way your hips softly jut up so you can be more comfortable. Mat gulps down and leans his head back into the water, needing to cool down from your heated allure. But even with his eyes closed, he’s still taunted by the images of you behind his eyelids.

“Fuck, Maty. You feel so good,” you moan, hands pressed into his chest and your body straddling your boyfriend’s. His cock deep inside of you.

“Yeah, baby? You’re taking me so well,” he whispers, teeth nipping on your earlobe to make you lean into him.

Your boobs push up into his face and his mouth takes advantage of your nipples. He tugs and sucks at your stiffened peaks, drowning in the music that is your whimpers.

Mat’s hands go to your hips to guide you, but your body takes over. You bounce up and down, his leaking tip dragging along your wet walls. You grind into him and he hits your spongy spot. Your arousal increases and drips down his shaft. The squelching sounds intensifying your impending orgasm. After pleasure filled moments of taking him deeper and deeper, you start to swirl your hips from left to right and right to left. The movement lets you feel just how much he truly stretches you out. He fills you up in all the right ways; you swear you can feel him fuck into areas you didn’t even know existed.

“I’m gonna cum,” you announce, a finger circling your clit in tandem with your lower half.

“Cum for me, pretty girl,” your boyfriend encourages, hands glued to the cheeks of your ass.

The knot inside of your stomach snaps, throwing you into a dizzying, burning haze. Your back arches as your tight walls collapse around his cock. Mat’s finger takes over massaging your clit and that makes you go blind with ecstasy. Everything goes black as your body trembles furiously and you gush around his length. You fist his hair and pull his lips flush against yours, tongue thrusting into his mouth. He easily takes it into his mouth and sucks on it, tasting the remnants of his previous orgasm that you expertly sucked out of him.

Your sexy hockey player boyfriend shifts his hips, cock spreading you open all over again. You whimper and spasm against the muscles of his body. You’re so sensitive, any subtle movement of his has your cock-drunk pussy spiraling into another powerful orgasm. You clench down around him, keeping him tight and warm and making him see stars as he spills into you.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Your Pussy was made for me,” Mat’s groans rattle though your spent body as you continue to flutter around him, milking him for every single drop of his release.

A large hand wraps around your throat and pulls your face to his. His lips take yours and he steals whatever breath you have left.

Even in a relaxed state, Mat can’t escape the sight of your swiveling hips and the flush it creates on his neck down to his chest. It wouldn’t be a problem- the way you awaken his lust and cause his length to stir awake, but the fact that he has to wait until you’re done tanning is the problem.

It’s almost laughable the way Mat is so transparent. From your spot out of the water you can clearly tell he wants to take you exactly where you are. Impatience burns at his skin and you know that he wants nothing but to indulge in his lust.

You peer over at him from over the lens of your shades, catching a perfect glance at his hungry eyes. The usual hazel irises now mirror the espresso you had this morning. You flash him a knowing smirk, biting onto your bottom lip. The thought of his godlike body over yours sounds way too appealing.

God, you’re so lucky. You’re the one he craves; you’re the love of his life. All of his ex girlfriends and ex flings are nothing compared to you. You’re his living, breathing, dream. You feel nothing but pride, knowing that you’ve made him unattainable. You know, without a doubt, that one day you’ll be his wife and eventually have his babies. You shrug in nonchalance, happily accepting your fate while taking a sip of your sloshy margarita. The watermelon crush drips down your chin and you wipe it up with a single finger before popping it into your mouth, lapping up the liquid. Your action grabs Mat’s attention and pulls him out of the pool. You’re just too hard to resist.

“Hey, hot stuff,” Mat grins, droplets of water slipping down the defined ridges of his body as he exits the pool.

“Hey, hotshot,” you hum, taking another drink of the frozen goodness. The tequila burns your throat just right- almost like when you take your boyfriend’s cock into your mouth.

Mat pauses where he’s at, taking in the sight of you. You teasingly spread your legs open, your bikini covered heat begging him to come over. You silently call him to you with your pointer finger making a come hither motion.

“Hi, baby, can you put some tanning lotion on me?” You simply ask, holding out the bottle towards him.

“Of course, pretty girl.” He takes the bottle and squeezes the substance onto his palm.

Before he can start you flip over onto your stomach. You sport a cocky grin when you notice Mat’s eyes dip down to the curves of your ass. Now he knows why you had that familiar sultry lilt to your question; you were being a tease. With a deep breath he moves to start massaging the lotion into your legs.

His big hands take up so much space on your body and it drives you wild. Your core starts to drip and flutter, too bad you have to wait.

Moving onto your back, he takes his time and gives you a gentle massage. You practically melt into the lounger beneath you, especially when he starts tracing the letters of your tattoo. The feeling of his rough hands on your smooth skin is so enticing, because despite the roughness, he treats your body like you’re a goddess.

“That feels so good,” you moan and stretch out your limbs. Mat is instantly transported to his previous thoughts of you coming undone on top of him. Those moans are the exact same.

Without a word, your boyfriend delivers a hard smack to your ass. Your skin simmers under his palms and he grows hotter after hearing your whimper. The sting sends a jolt of pulsing desire to your pussy.

“You little shit,” you huff out, blowing some of your hair out of your face after Mat flipped you over by your hips. You throw a playful glare at him, but he just gives you a sassy smirk in return.

“You love me,” he says with a shrug and boy is he right.

You clench your thighs together as you’re desperate for friction. The way he easily manhandles you is one of the hottest things ever.

“Yeah, I guess I do,” you sigh, hands moving behind your back and pulling at the strings that hold your top up.

Your eyes lock onto your boyfriend’s, tension rising into the already humid air, and pull your top away from your chest. Your breasts fall free and every rational thought flees Mat’s head. He’s spent the entire time at the pool wanting you moaning and fucked out; he’s not waiting any longer.

Before he can make his next move, you place your foot on torso. He cocks his head to the side in a silent question. You hold the bottle of lotion out to him, humming in satisfaction when he reluctantly takes it.

This time his movements are with haste and he makes sure not to rub any on your exposed boobs. Not even your protest could get him to comply, but you quickly drop it in hopes of his perfect tongue swirling around your nipples.

After he’s done and the sun tan lotion is put away, he crawls over you. His hulking body looms over your smaller frame. To anyone else it’d look daunting, but it fills you with a carnal urge. Your hands ghost over his muscled chest and faint goosebumps appear on his skin. He leans down over your chest and takes a nipple into his mouth. You arch off the lounger and enjoy the way he nips at you. You card your fingers through his hair, pulling at the strands every time he sucks on you harder.

“Kiss me,” you whine, guiding his mouth away from your nipple and onto your mouth.

His tongue snakes between your lips, getting a taste of your margarita. The kiss is bruising and makes your body tingle; your heart accelerating with each caress. You pull Mat down on top of you, arms and legs wrapping around him. Your whine is swallowed by him as he grinds his clothed cock into your covered pussy. Pulling away, Mat takes a look at your glossy and plump lips, then he nibbles at them while you lay flaccid under him. His hands roam down your sides, painting you in a darkened flush that isn’t your tan. He fiddles with the ties of your bikini bottoms and slowly pulls them undone.

“I want you,” his voice is heavy with lust and it makes the hairs on your body stand.

Not feeling like replying, you rip off the bottoms to your bathing suit and then pull off his swim trunks. His member is thick and waiting for you. You give it a momentary fist until he knocks your hands away.

He grabs your waist and drags you closer to him. You let go of all control as he starts to roll your hips into him. Mat squeezes his cock between your folds, and each time you move, his angry, red tip massages your swollen clit. His length stiffens even more than it already is and it makes you want him even more.

“Please, baby. Please fuck me. Ruin me,” you beg, hands trying to put him inside of you.

“I got you, baby,” he shushes you.

He pushes into you with a gasp, making one fall from your lips at the delicious stretch. You’ll never get over the way his thick cock opens you up.

Mat holds himself up over you with his forearms pressing into the cushion. His thrusts are lazy, but you don’t care. Not when you can feel each of his veins rub against your tight walls. Even the vibration of his moans can be felt deep in your core, sparking up a fire within you. You move your hands to his back, falling more in love with the way his muscles stretch under his skin. You hold him tight because you need something grounding, something so you won’t quickly evaporate into the abyss.

“You feel so good, pretty girl,” Mat moans, his voice sickly sweet.

Your boyfriend tries to fasten his pace, but your slick walls won’t let him fully pull out. Looking down, Mat watches the way you suck him in and how your arousal collects at the base of his cock. The sight is erotic and Mat can feel his release start to bubble up.

You cup his cheeks, lips encasing his. The moment he sticks his tongue in your mouth you’re sucking on it like it’s the last thing you’ll get to feast on. You’re just about to tug on his bottom lip when your head falls back and a raspy moan claws its way up your throat. He nudged your g-spot with purpose; he wants to see you lost in rapture. He wants to see the way your chest heaves and your toes curl as you attempt to hold yourself together. Your nails dig into his skin and leave behind a trail of blistering red streaks. Those will have to be kissed on at a later time.

His hips bear down and snap into you, your breasts bouncing with every thrust. You can feel him bulge in your abdomen every time he lifts your lower half up to meet his movements.

“Oh my god! Yes, baby,” you shout, body running on nothing but margaritas and lust.

Your pussy starts to flutter around him, you’re slick dripping down his balls just as your tanning lotion now coats Mat’s skin. You wish so badly that you weren’t in the privacy of your own vacation home, so people can see and be jealous of the way your boyfriend tears you apart with his rock hard length. Something similar to feral grips at you, turning your rational mind upside down. You’d be called insane if people knew that you want the sound of the afternoon breeze to turn into moans of other people getting off on you and your man.

“Baby, you’re so wet. Is it all for me?” Mat asks as if he doesn’t already know.

“Yes! All for you,” you say with an affirmative nod.

Your core melts around him as he pushes deeper inside of you. You press your feet into the small of his back to keep him flush to you. His mouth is right next to your ear and his salacious moans set off your release. A soft hand goes to the nape of his neck and grips his grown out hair. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your orgasm surges through your body. Your twitching walls create a ripple effect and push his orgasm into motion. His hot cum shoots thick ropes inside of you as you quake underneath him.

With a low, husky grunt Mat slumps into your body. Your boobs become squished into his sweaty chest, but the feeling of his rapidly beating heart distracts you from the feel of the tackiness dressing your skin. He noses at the pulse point on your neck; his lips leaving delicate kisses and fresh bruises you’ll have to cover with makeup.

“I love you,” he mumbles into your collarbone before resting his cheek over your heart. His breath is heavy and his eyes are lidded, Luke he’s ready to fall asleep.

He slowly rearranges himself, his cock still keeping his release inside of you, making sure to softly drag out your orgasm.

“I love you,” you moan. His weight keeps you anchored down, so your overstimulation doesn’t sweep you away.

You gently card your fingers through his hair, each other’s bodies slipping into a state of tranquility. You eventually fall asleep wrapped up in Mat as the sun washes over the both of you in your throne of bliss.

a/n: So this is the first piece in a while that I enjoyed writing for visceral in doses. I hope you all enjoy it🫶

[yelenasdog]

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

[comphy-and-cozy]

love it if we made it - mat barzal

Pairing: Mat Barzal x OC (f)

Summary: Aurora Foster and Mat Barzal are friends. Sometimes with benefits, sometimes with unspoken feelings, but always with a little something extra. When they have the opportunity to close the cross-country gap between them, will they be able to overcome the skinny love and take their relationship to the next level?

Word Count: 9.2K

Author's Note: My first ever Barzal fic written for @thewintersoldierdisaster for @wyattjohnston's Winter Fic Exchange! You are such a talented writer and I really wanted to make this a good one - I hope I managed to get the Garden City details covered correctly. 😉 It was a blast to write for someone new even though I am still reluctantly slowly joining the Barzy train. Enjoy, my dear! Thank you to @smileysvech, @pyotrkochetkov, @jostystyles, and @Demi for all of your help in brainstorming, editing, sending inspirational Barzy pics, and the usual general insanity. Couldn’t do it without y’all. Also, just for the record, Mat has hair in this entire fic. No bald Barzy allowed.

Warnings: Mutual pining, angst, alcohol use (characters get drunk), Mat being a bit of a fuckboy. Smut (18+ ONLY); unprotected sex, general sexual tension/sexual themes. Masterlist

July 2013 - Vancouver, British Columbia

The crackling of the fire melds with the gentle splash of waves on the shoreline, crickets chirping happily amid the cool summer breeze. Smoke billows up, wafting to a deep sky sparkling with stars, not a cloud in sight. 

Aurora Foster watches the flames, absorbing the warmth on her legs. There’s a blue koozie on the armrest of her Adirondack chair, holding a Diet Coke. She allows herself to sink into the warm, worn cotton of her Burnaby Winter Club sweatshirt, sighing contentedly. 

“Anyone want more pizza? I’ve gotta rock a piss.”

Rolling her eyes, Aurora scoffs as the rest of the group murmurs no’s. “Charming, Fabbs.”

The next voice that rings out is clear. “Anyone wanna go for a late night dip?”

“Yeah, I’ll go.” This time of night is Aurora’s favorite time for a swim, when the lake is all but glass and the water feels like a lukewarm bath; not warm, but certainly not cold after spending a day baking under a bright British Columbia sun. 

There are no other takers, so she looks expectantly across the fire. His dark hair is shaggy, unkempt, air-dried after a day in the lake. His brown eyes lock with hers, and he jerks his head toward the dock with a grin. “Race you.”

Mat Barzal. 

A name that holds the burden of promise. He’s going to be drafted in a few years, to the Show—and he’s going to be good. Not I’m just saying that because he’s my friend and I’m supposed to say that—no, he’s going to be good, potentially even great.

Here, though, he’s just Mat. He feels weird about the weight his name is starting to hold, not really knowing what to do with the slight level of fame. He’s made a vow to himself that whatever happens, he won’t let it get to him, won’t let it change the fabric of who he is—this guy, right here, feeling the warm breeze through his hair as sprints down the wooden dock, two smaller feet pattering rapidly behind him.

“You first,” he grins, gesturing toward the ladder.

“What if there’s a big monster waiting right there and it eats me?”

“I’ll jump in and save you,” he says, like there’s no hesitation. He glances down to double check that there is no actual sign of danger. Aurora doesn’t notice, her eyes also on the dark water, illuminated only slightly by the brightness of the moon.

“You promise?”

“I promise.” The way he says it is so sure that it actually comforts her for a split second, enough time for her confidence to reach the appropriate level to jump in with a splash. 

Her body is immersed in cold for the briefest of seconds before she’s enveloped in warmth. The splash next to her tells her that Mat has joined her beneath the water. He rises to the surface a few moments later, letting out a scoff as he shakes out his hair.

“Shit. You like this?” he asks, swimming out toward the trampoline floating a few meters away. 

“It’s nice!” she says, following him. “Refreshing.”

“It’s cold.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be a big macho hockey player?” 

He ignores her with a roll of his eyes, rising back out of the water to climb the ladder to the trampoline. Aurora opts to swim around a while longer, feeling the weight of the water gliding over her skin. It’s nice, heavenly even, how the water makes her weightless.

When she approaches the trampoline, the blast of cool air against her wet skin makes her shiver, goosebumps instantly covering her body. Mat glances at her, sees the way her arms have wrapped around herself in an attempt to warm herself. He extends an arm, his own skin almost dry. “C’mere.”

His arm curls around her frame, warmth of him already heating her skin. He’s not sure if it’s his heart or hers that he can feel beating—maybe it’s both, beating in a steady, sure rhythm next to one another. 

Aurora’s toes nudge his, the gesture comfortable and affectionate; a silent thank you.

June 2018 – Vancouver, British Columbia

By all accounts, it’s a normal Thursday evening in June; Aurora’s housemates are getting ready to go out to the bar—there are plugged-in curling irons, loose cans of hairspray, scattered makeup brushes all over the counter alongside an assortment of cups in varying stages of empty. A half-full fifth of Smirnoff is there too, the cap misplaced somewhere.

On any other occasion, Aurora would be right there with them, blasting Taylor Swift and chattering about if Brad will finally make a move on Carley. Tonight, though, she’s opted out in favor of spending the night on the couch in her favorite sweatpants. Just not feeling a bar tonight, she’d said.

The silence when the door finally closes behind her friends is almost deafening; she hadn’t realized how loud it was in the chaos of the pre-night-out ritual. With a contented sigh, Aurora plops down on the couch and tugs a blanket over her legs, opening Netflix and starting an episode of New Girl. 

She's part way through her second episode and her first glass of wine when she gets the text.

[Mat:] what’s the play tn

Mat. Of course. He’s home for the summer now, back after his first year in Long Island, and recently returned from winning the Calder trophy. Aurora still had a hard time connecting that this Mat, the one that she’s known since they were 12, the one who she grew up hearing make stupid dick jokes with his friends, is the same one that just won Rookie of the Year in the National Hockey League. 

Instead of typing out a message, Aurora snaps a photo of the wine glass in her hand and blanket in her lap with the TV in the background. It doesn’t take long for the response bubble to pop back up, and soon enough the whoosh of an incoming text sounds.

[Mat:] want some company?

Aurora’s heart freezes in her chest. She hasn’t spent any time alone with him since that sorority formal her sophomore year, the one she bribed him to attend with her so she wasn’t the only girl without a date. It was platonic—that didn’t even need to be discussed—and it had been nice to have a familiar figure by her side; it didn’t hurt that he was starting to make a name for himself in the hockey world as a top draft pick headed for the NHL.

What started as a simple, friendly night ended with her leg wrapped around his waist, leaning against the bathroom door of the venue, moaning his name. She didn’t know how they ended up there, but what she did know was that it was passionate, mind-boggling, life-altering sex. 

At least, to her it was. He’d never mentioned it since. 

At first, it lingered on the tip of her tongue every time he was around, waiting to be blurted out when the sinking confusion became too much to bear. But one month, two months, three months passed, with no recognition or acknowledgement that anything happened between them. 

For a while, she began to believe that she’d dreamt it; that her mind conjured the hottest, dizziest, most viscerally real dream possible. But then she’d see his eyes flick to hers during the sex scene in a movie and feel the spark of electricity when his hand would brush hers. Just briefly, but enough for her to confirm that no, she didn’t imagine it all. 

Needless to say, Aurora can’t help the rising suspicion at the seemingly random text. Surely, he couldn’t be thinking about one night years ago when he had the pick of any girl he wanted at his fingertips.

Before she can stop herself, she's typing ‘bring chocolate’ and soon, she hears her front door open. There’s a shuffle, the sound of shoes being shrugged off, before that handsome face is rounding the corner. His eyes land on her in an instant, a predatory gaze simmering behind an unassuming smile. In his hand is a plastic bag from which he fishes out a pack of peanut M&M’s, tossing them at her.

Aurora squeals, eagerly tearing open the packet and immediately tossing three into her mouth. After an expectant eyebrow raise from him, she heaves herself off the couch with a dramatic sigh and runs the short distance to him before launching into his arms. 

“Thank you, Matty,” she says, voice muffled by the black Acme sweatshirt he’s wearing. He’s warm. And big—bigger than he was before he left for New York. “And congratulations.”

He hums a response, following her as she resumes her spot, this time making room for him beside her. “You didn’t want to go out tonight? Celebrate that enormous trophy?” 

Mat shrugs, placing her feet in his lap and securing the blanket over both. “Could take it or leave it. Can’t leave you to be home alone and bored.”

She rolls her eyes and nudges his leg with her foot. “Shut up. You didn’t have to come over.”

“Honestly, I need a break after that media circus,” he confesses. “So much press, so many questions, so many pictures. It’s exhausting.”

Aurora nods understandingly, though she can only imagine being put on public display the way he is day in and day out, the attention only heightened now that he’s won the Calder. She’s seen the pictures, the articles, all of the buzz, feeling a slight tinge of jealousy—not of him, but that she has to share him with the rest of the world now.

Mat settles in, and casual conversation filters in amidst the episode, pausing at moments to hear the dialogue before another one of them is adding commentary or snorting at someone’s Instagram story. It’s so casual, so normal, his place beside her on the couch; like finally finding that one pivotal puzzle piece she’s been looking for for hours. He’s calm, relaxed, and once again she begins to wonder if she’s been creating something out of nothing this entire time. If the flood of nerves in her chest is an overreaction.

“You still seeing that frat guy? Tim, or whatever his name is?” 

The question comes out of nowhere. Aurora can’t help but wonder if she detects a hint of jealousy.

“Was never really seeing him,” she replies, leaving a heavy pause, enough time for him to fill in the blanks. It’s true, but maybe she chose her words intentionally, curious to see if that lilt in his tone really was jealousy. 

He doesn’t react much outside of a nod and an over-engineered nice, but she sees the very slight tick in his jaw. She resists the urge to roll her eyes, instead supplying, “You really gonna give me shit, Mr. Hot-Shot-NHL rookie?”

“Listen,” he grins, “it’s not my fault there’s a million single girls in New York.”

This time, Aurora does roll her eyes, if only to hide the sting she feels deep in her chest. She wouldn’t say she has feelings for Mat Barzal, but—well, it’s complicated. It’s always been there, buried deep beneath the surface, veiled as fond affection for a friend who’s grown by her side since they were 12. 

“But none of them are as pretty as you.”

Aurora has to laugh, can’t help but laugh, rather than feel the discomfort that sinks in when she processes what he said. He’s always like this—these seemingly harmless, flirty comments—but those are the ones that keep his hooks latched into her, keeping her coming back for more, dangling by a single thread of hope.

“Don’t be a dick.”

“M’not. You’re so pretty it hurts.”

She moves to kick him—playfully, mostly—but his hand catches her foot in an instant. Before she has a chance to protest, barely processing the evil grin that hatches on his face, he’s tickling her arch. Aurora shrieks, legs flailing in protest, doing her best to scramble out of his grasp. Mat’s laugh is mirthful as his strong arms easily overpower her, hands moving to her hips to pin her to the couch.

“You’re gonna—” he pauses to wrestle her down, “—hurt yourself.”

“Fuck off,” she shouts playfully, hands shoving wildly at his hands in a weak attempt to stop him from tickling at her sides. “I—I hate you!”

In a flash, Aurora finds her arms pinned above her head, large hands pressed into her wrists. She shrieks again, but the laughter dies in her throat when she realizes he’s paused, hovering over her. Her legs stop their thrashing, breath caught in her throat while her heart thumps in her chest. She isn’t sure how long they sit like that, frozen in time, staring at one another; she wonders if he’s thinking the same thing she is, flashing back to the night spent inside the dimly lit bar bathroom.

And then he’s kissing her, desperate, his open mouth pressed against hers. It consumes her, the feeling of his lips, in a way that makes her wonder how she’s survived the last two years without his touch. The thought of stopping is unthinkable, unfathomable, unbearable. 

Mat’s hand slides down her arm to cup her jaw, thumb brushing against her cheekbone while his tongue finds hers. With her now free hand, Aurora instinctively moves to run her fingers through his hair, soft and smooth. It’s long, long enough that she can wrap the locks around her knuckles, offering a firm hold that has him exhaling lowly against her mouth.

With just the simplest, subtlest move, Aurora’s flipped the switch inside of Mat that transforms him from doting, passionate lover to desperate and unrestrained. His lips pivot to nip at the base of her jaw, offering a subtle bite on his way down to her neck. 

She can hear his heavy breath, feels it hot against her skin. His palm draws warmth up her side, rucking up her t-shirt to expose her bare stomach before his hand dives beneath the hem of the cotton to press flat against her ribcage. It’s shameful how quickly Mat can render her little more than a lolling, whimpering mess, back arched eagerly to chase his touch; she wants to kick herself for giving in so easily.

His hands move in tandem with his mouth, caressing, kneading, aiding her slow descent into madness. When he tugs the cotton over her head, grateful there’s no bra impeding his view, Mat swoops down to her breasts like a starving man getting his first taste of food; with a groan, his tongue swipes over a pebbled nipple. 

Aurora’s afraid to say his name, afraid that if she calls attention to the moment, he’ll snap out of it and stop. 

And she can’t have that. 

Hands roam, chased by hot breath and wet kisses, until she’s all but naked on her living room couch, as if she lives alone and doesn’t have roommates that could come home at any given moment. 

He doesn’t even bother to take her panties off, instead ripping them to the side and wetting his tip with her slick, teasing her folds for just a moment.

Mat pauses at her entrance, breath heavy in his chest. His eyes trail up to hers, and Aurora’s heartbeat ticks, afraid he’s going to change his mind right now, when she needs him more than she’s ever needed anything in her life.

And then his eyes slink over her body with a smirk, admiring her breasts, her curves, the way her legs have wrapped around his hips—when did that happen? Mat’s dick twitches when he realizes he has nowhere to go but inside the dripping wet cunt in front of him, perfect and tempting and waiting to be filled up. He lets the low groan rumble in his chest while his lips return to the spot he sucked into her neck.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so pretty like this,” he murmurs against her skin. “Always think of you like this.”

Mat waits for only a moment, so brief that it flits by almost unnoticed, before he’s pushing in with a low groan. Aurora gasps at the sensation, infinitely better than everything her imagination conjures when her fingers slip between her thighs at night. Nothing replicates the feeling of him buried to the hilt inside her wet heat.

“How long you been thinkin’ ‘bout this, sweetheart?” he rasps once he grows accustomed to the way she squeezes him. “Been thinkin’ ‘bout you for a long time.”

Aurora’s fingers settle into the dip of his shoulders, breasts pressed into his chest. She tries to answer, but all that comes out is a moan. How can he expect her to speak when his hips are punching into her like they’re getting paid for it?

He’s smug at the way he’s rendered her speechless, entranced by the way she feels. Sensing he might not make it long, Mat focuses on his rhythm, finding the one that has her nails scratching down his back so he’ll have a perfect reminder of her wrapped around his dick.

When her moans escalate, he brings a hand between their bodies, watching the way her eyes flutter shut when he rubs at her clit. “Bein’ so good and so pretty for me, ‘Ror. Wanna feel you squeezin’ me while you come.”

She likes when he talks, judging by the way her breath hitches and her cunt tightens, so he keeps talking, muttering pretty, filthy somethings in her ear while he circles her clit. Before long, his whispers are covered by the sound of her crying out his name—she sounds the same as she did two years ago, sweeter this time now that he knows what she feels like when she comes. 

Later, when he slips out into the night, Aurora presses her fingers against the hickey on her neck, memorizing the feeling of his lips against her skin.

July 2019 - Vancouver, British Columbia  

Aurora takes a seat in the chiavari chair beside Gina, offering Dante a wave. A string quartet plays softly, ushering in wedding guests taking their seats before the ceremony. She’s there more out of obligation to the Fabbros, the bride a cousin of theirs that she’d grown up with, too.

Mat sidles in far too close to the start of the ceremony, plopping himself into the seat next to Aurora. He bumps shoulders with her, offering a grin when she mouths “hi” as the precessional begins.

The ceremony is sweet, the food is excellent, and Aurora can’t help but tear up at the best man’s speech during dinner. Afterwards, everyone is on the dance floor, moving and grooving to a Bruno Mars mashup. 

Everyone except two people.

Outside of the tent, Mat and Aurora are sitting on a bench, watching the sunset. Not feeling this song, Mat had murmured to her before jerking his head toward the tent opening, and who was she to say no to accompanying her friend to take in a Vancouver sunset?

“You think you’ll do all this?” The question is abrupt but curious, like his mind had been wandering and he blurted it out as soon as it appeared in his head.

“What? A wedding?”

He nods, gesturing around. “Yeah. You know, the flowers, the fuckin’… doilies, and shit.”

Aurora’s eyebrow raises as she hides a smile. “Do you even know what a doily is?”

“No, but it feels like something that would be here,” he says with a shrug. Dante’s loud laughter echoes from inside, piercing the quiet reprieve from the music. 

A few moments pass, the silence comfortable. “Yeah, I think I’d like to get married someday. Do the whole thing. No doilies, though.”

Mat snorts, nudging her knee with his. “Wonder what the guy's gonna be like.”

Aurora considers for a moment. In the few minutes they’ve been outside, the sun has slipped beneath the horizon, its dim, fading light still splaying out from behind the trees. Dusk looks good on him, she thinks. “He’s gonna get me flowers. And take care of me when I’m drunk. And he’s gonna be really, really good looking.”

Mat hums, impressed. “Damn. Sounds like a catch.”

“Duh. I’m a catch,” she says, to which Mat nods in agreement. “How about you?”

“She’s gonna have a great rack,” he replies, grinning so wide he almost ruins the delivery of the joke before he’s doubling over. Aurora snorts but joins him in laughter with a playful smack to the shoulder.

Inside the tent, the DJ makes some announcement that Aurora only half hears—something about grabbing a loved one. Mat extends a hand, smiles wide, and she ignores the thump of her chest as she slips her fingers against his palm. 

The anticipation pangs in her chest as he leads her to the dance floor. She feels a sliver of apprehension as he turns to face her, placing his hands respectfully on her waist. Instantly, there’s a flash of the night on the couch, of his lips against her skin; if he’s thinking about it, too, he doesn’t show any outward indication.

Any trace of discomfort dissipates once she gives in to his gravitational pull, hands lacing together behind his neck. He’s strong, sturdy, solid—the way he’s always been, ever-present and a constant in her life since she was 12. His eyes are warm, enveloping Aurora in his gaze until she forgets that there’s anyone else around. 

They sway through the remainder of the song, and when notes begin to slow, she finds herself wishing it would last longer. Fortunately, almost like the DJ is privy to her thoughts, the beat picks up, slow song melding into something more upbeat. Mat blinks, the bubble surrounding them popping unceremoniously. He can’t bring himself to let Aurora go, not when she feels so right in his arms.

With a dramatic pull, Mat spins her around, hand supporting her back as he dips her backwards. Aurora squeals, hand clutching onto his as her footing almost loses balance. Laughter bubbles out of her throat as Mat pulls her back upright, his eyes glowing with amusement. Suddenly, he’s looking to do anything to keep hearing that sound.

It takes a truly revolting love song for them to finally leave the dance floor, beelining toward the bar in search of liquid refreshment and a break. The rest of the evening is easy, full of elation and conviviality, the kind of night that makes your cup overflow and runneth over. 

That night, when Aurora slips into bed tipsy at 2AM with a contented sigh, she falls asleep dreaming of brown eyes and a crooked smile.

December 2022 – New York, New York

When Mat saw the text informing him that Aurora had a job interview for a Software Engineering Lead at TekStack in New York, he offered up his spare bedroom before she could even tell him the date. It would be a waste of money to stay at a hotel when he had an apartment he barely used, he said, and she could make a long weekend out of it and he’d show her around Long Island.

The grin on Mat’s face grows the instant he sees her, a gray coat draped over her arm as she wheels her carry-on behind her. He opens his arms and she falls into them, the way she has a hundred times. “Welcome to New York.”

“—it’s been waiting for you!” 

“Set you up for that on purpose,” he says, offering to take her bag. “You hungry?”

“Starving,” she replies. “But I really want to get the airplane off me first. Maybe takeout for tonight?”

Mat smiles. “Say no more. I know exactly the place.”

A few hours later, Aurora is seated at Mat’s counter, a spread of styrofoam across the quartz. Her suit is hanging in a garment bag on the back of the door to the guest bedroom, waiting to be pressed before her interview. It’s so familiar, the fondness, the sense of comfort, the shared laughter over a plate—or several—of food, but it’s no longer Dante’s family’s lakehouse or the Barzal family’s finished basement. This time, it’s Mat’s fancy apartment in Garden City, the rent alone more than what Aurora makes in a month.

But it’s still the same Mat sitting across from her. Same crooked smile, same easy laughter, same silly, unabashed personality. Admittedly, she was anxious wondering about how things would be; they’d hung out plenty over the summer, kept in touch via the group chat, but their one-on-one time had been limited the last few years.

Despite the apprehension, Aurora is surprised at how quickly they shake off the rust, barely needing any recoil time before it feels like old times. Of course, the camaraderie and pleasantries aren’t nearly enough to build up an immunity to his gray Lululemon sweatpants or the peek of his sculpted Adonis belt when he raises his arms in a lazy stretch. She wasn’t sure how she’d feel when she saw him, but she reluctantly accepts the steady beat of her heart in her chest that tells her her crush is, in fact, still holding strong.

They stay up chatting far longer than Mat anticipated, bedtime delayed even further when he offers to help her prepare for her interview, shrugging with a, I’m not tired anyway—anything to spend just a little more time with her. He Googles ‘Top Interview Questions’ and spends over an hour posing them to her, letting her work through how she’d answer each. Admittedly, he had never really had much practice in the way of a job interview outside of the pre-draft conversations he’d had with various NHL GM’s, but he had more than enough experience at preparing for an onslaught of questions—and how to shake off the nerves beforehand. 

“The thing I’ve learned most is to be concise,” he says, thinking back to when he first did NHL-mandated media training. “Don’t be afraid to take a few seconds after the question to think through what you want to say. That helps so you don’t ramble.”

“Don’t ramble. Got it.”

“And listen to some boss bitch music that hypes you up on your way in. It makes a difference. I promise.”

Aurora raises an eyebrow. “I’m gonna need to know what type of ‘boss bitch’ music you’re listening to pre-game, Barzal.”

“Megan Thee Stallion is my top preference,” he says with a grin, “but if you tell anyone that, I’ll deny it and say Drake.”

“Any last expert advice for me?”

“Get a good night’s sleep,” he says, then glances at his phone at the mention of the time. “Which means we’re about two hours behind schedule. Let’s get you to bed.”

Mat offers to carry her bag to the guest bedroom—decorated straight out of a West Elm catalog—and Aurora thanks him before bidding him good night. After changing into her pajamas, she quickly shakes off the urge to pad down the hallway and slip into Mat’s bed with him, reminding herself that that isn’t why she’s here. 

Instead, she settles into the soft sheets, feeling herself slipping right back into the old, familiar flutter in her chest. 

—

Serendipitously, the scheduling worked out perfectly: the interview was Friday at 1PM, and the Islanders hosted the Predators on Friday night at 7PM, which meant Dante would be in New York and around for post-game dinner, drinks, and a little mid-season reunion for the trio of friends. Aurora shook away the feeling that fate was somehow intervening.

Friday morning arrives, and Mat has morning skate, so he wishes her good luck with a tight hug before he shoves a protein bar in his mouth on his way out the door. For good measure, he sends a string of emojis (💪👩🏽‍💼✅💰) once he arrives at the rink, hoping they’ll give her an extra boost of confidence. 

Practice is relatively easy, more of the opportunity to move his body and run through some plays—nothing intense, preserving energy for the actual game. He’s thankful for a pretty painless practice as his mind continually floats to Aurora, wondering how her interview went. Mat isn’t quite sure why he feels so invested in her landing this role until he realizes that if she gets it, she’ll be moving to New York. 

“Barzy, you trying to go out after the game?” Oliver asks across the locker room. Mat’s tugging on a pair of sweatpants, fresh from his post-practice shower.

“He can’t,” Matt pipes in with a lopsided grin. “His girl is here.”

Mat groans, pressing a hand to his face as he points a middle finger in Marty’s direction. Next thing he knows, the chirps and wolf whistles fill the room and he feels Pierre aggressively nudge his shoulder.

“A girl?”

“Yeah, the hot brunette. Total smokeshow,” Casey fills in for him. 

“Woof woof, Barzy!”

“Get it, Matty B!”

“Fuck off,” Mat huffs, a dismissive hand directed at no one in particular. “She’s not my… girl.”

“She stayin’ at your place?” Dobson asks. “Gonna be at the game tonight?”

Mat nods, earning another chorus of whistles. He rolls his eyes as he tosses his gloves and practice jersey in the bin, ignoring the no pre-game sex jokes (“Can’t play 3 periods if you’ve already played one in the sheets”).

“If she’s not your girl, I’m definitely gonna make a move, then.”

“Fuck off, Dobber.”

—

Aurora arrives home from the interview to find a jersey folded on the bed, along with a handwritten note–thought you might want to have something to rep the home team. She sends back a text to Mat to thank him and respond to his inquiry about the interview before setting off to change and make her way to UBS.

The game is disappointing, if you’re an Islanders fan. But while Aurora is sporting the blue and orange jersey, she’s waiting excitedly for a Nashville Predator to meet her in the designated area Mat directed her to. 

When he rounds the corner, hair still wet from his shower, she runs up to him and leaps into his arms. Dante grins as he embraces her in a tight hug. “Feel stupid now for wearing the wrong colors tonight, huh?”

“I have to support my host,” she says with an eye roll. 

The host in question appears as if he’s been summoned, moving to hug his old friend, but not before his eyes drag over the 13 on Aurora’s arm. The three of them together just feels right, the dynamic shifted—but complete.

Once they’ve been seated at a high top in a bar in Rockville Centre, Dante turns to Aurora. “‘Ror, how was the interview?” 

“It went great,” she grins, accepting the fist bump Dante offers her. “I aced the coding exercise.”

“You’re such a badass. I picture you like one of those hackers in the movies.”

Aurora snorts, shaking her head. She thanks the waiter who places her drink in front of her. “It’s not really like that, but thanks.”

Conversation flows easily amongst the trio–only one comment from Dante razzing Mat for the 4-1 loss–and eventually the food arrives, along with another round of drinks. 

“So… you really gonna join us and become a Yank?” Dante probes over his meal. 

“To be honest, I don’t even know if I’d accept it,” she says quietly. Mat watches the way her lip disappears between her teeth as she contemplates; he doesn’t envy the gargantuan decision that lies ahead of her. “It’s a big move to make.”

As dense as he knows he can sometimes be, Mat recognizes this as a pivotal opportunity for him to share his own experience moving across the continent. He doesn’t have much in the way of advice, the distance something he just grew accustomed to in time, but he knows what it’s like; feeling the divide between him and the rest of his life like a bruise that won’t quite heal, the precious few-hour window where phone calls and texts make 5,000 kilometers feel like 10.

In so many words, he tells her so, aided by Dante’s supporting murmurs in a rare serious moment. Aurora absorbs it, if nothing else, comforted by the fact that they understand—kind of. It’s a little different moving cross-continent when you’re going to make millions of dollars, but money certainly doesn’t make the distance less of a burden to carry.

“FaceTime is your best friend,” Dante says, and Mat nods in agreement.

“Oh, is that why I get one FaceTime from you every two months?” she sticks her tongue out at Dante. Mat makes a mental note to FaceTime her more often. If she moves to New York, he won’t have to.

“No, that’s ‘cause you’re not my best friend,” Dante jokes, and Aurora scoffs playfully, eyes rolled in annoyance. 

Sensing the end of the semi-serious moment, Mat stands up. “Gotta rock a piss.”

“Charming, Barz.”

Dante watches Mat’s retreating figure, eyeing the brown locks until they disappear down the hallway toward the restrooms. His gaze moves to Aurora’s, lowering his head conspiratorially. “Is something happening?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You two. You seem… different.”

Aurora’s eyebrows raise. “Different how?”

“Just… different,” Dante shrugs, then takes another swig of his drink. “It’s not like everyone doesn’t know you’ve been in love with each other forever.”

Jaw dropping in shock, Aurora feels her face suddenly get very hot. “That’s not true!”

“Oh, I didn’t realize we were still in denial,” he says, feigning self-defense and fighting a smile. “My bad. I’ll go back to trying to ignore the way you googly eyes each other.”

“I do not make googly eyes at him!”

“Man, ‘Ror, that acceptance is really buried deep down in there, huh?” Dante grins, dodging the french fry she launches in his direction. Then, he’s back to serious—kind of. “I know it’s a big leap to take when you’ve been friends for so long, but you haven’t been subjected to seeing the way you look at each other. I wish you’d just make out already. It’s disgusting.”

Aurora doesn’t have the heart to tell him they’ve already done far more than make out—multiple times—and part of her is relieved that Mat never divulged that information to his best friend despite every opportunity to. This way, it’s their little secret, something for just the two of them to have. 

Mat’s return effectively ends the conversation. They pay their tabs—Aurora ignores Dante’s pointed look when Mat picks hers up without a word—and make their way to the next bar.

Several hours and far too many Palomas later, Mat unlocks the door to his apartment. He struggles slightly under the stumbling weight of Aurora, who’s latched onto him as she drunkenly giggles. He’s not much better off, but the Uber ride sobered him up enough to think to order DoorDash, conveniently arriving a few minutes after they get in the door.

Coaxing her to eat is a bit of a struggle, but he finally manages to get her into a barstool, munching contentedly on chicken tenders.

“C’mon, ‘Ror,” he murmurs once he sees she isn’t going to finish the third tender. He wraps an arm around her waist, helping her out of the seat to stand her up. “Let’s get you to bed, yeah?”

“Carry me!”

Without any additional warning, she’s leaping into his arms. Mat lets out an oof but manages to secure her in his arms as he carries her to the guest bedroom. When he places her on the mattress, her legs don’t untangle from his waist, and Mat feels the near instant pulse in his groin. Aurora’s eyes are closed, but her hips move, subtly, and he allows himself to revel in the feeling of her brushing against him. It doesn’t take long for his dick to become hard as steel, aided massively by the soft, sleepy whimpers that leave Aurora’s throat.

“Matty,” she whispers, hands seeking out the dips in his biceps.

Mat wants nothing more than to throw caution to the wind and devour her like he’s been aching to from the moment he saw a glimpse of her in a towel coming out of the shower this morning. He’s got just enough booze in his system to cloud his judgment, hand trailing up her side and savoring the warmth of her body against his palm. His dick twitches in his pants when he glides a hand over Aurora’s breast, yearning to tug the cups of that stupidly sexy corset down to repeat his fantasy.

But he doesn’t. 

Instead, he summons every single ounce of self-restraint left in his body and tears himself away from her tempting frame. Much to his chagrin, Aurora lets out the most devastating, disappointed mewl and Mat swears he can feel his heart (and dick) shatter at the sound.

“‘Ror,” he whispers. “We can’t.”

“Why not? S’not like we’ve never… done it before,” she slurs, reaching to run her hands across his pecs. He indulges in the feeling for just a brief moment, his resolve fleeting with every second.

“Not like this.”

“Y-you—” she hiccups, then frowns when he gently takes her hands off of him, “—you don’t… want me.”

“No,” Mat says quickly. He’s pretty sure she won’t remember in the morning, but if she does, he wants her to remember this. “I do. But I don’t want it to be like this.”

“Only wore this so you’d take it off,” she murmurs, and Mat groans, the devil on his shoulder whispering very strong reasons why he should give into temptation.

Ultimately, the good guy in him wins the battle, ignoring the throbbing of his dick when he helps Aurora to shimmy off her skintight leather pants. He does his best to avoid staring at the flimsy scrap of fabric between her thighs and pretends not to notice how little it covers. Her body is almost entirely dead weight as he tries to figure out how to remove her corset, eventually tugging it over her head; her breasts fall free, and he chokes on his own spit as he desperately looks around for something to cover her with. 

Dashing to his room, he grabs a t-shirt—only a little bit intentionally selecting an Islanders tee in order to see her wearing his colors again; on his way back, he pours a glass of water and grabs a bottle of Advil from the bathroom. When he returns, Aurora’s breathing is heavy and she’s lying in the same position he left her in, finally asleep. 

Mat places the water on the nightstand, then notices her phone and plugs it into the charger. Gently, he slides the t-shirt over her head and maneuvers her arms through the sleeves, then situates her and tucks her in before pulling the blanket up to her chin. With a kiss on her forehead, Mat quietly steps back to return to his room, ready to palm himself off, the image of her tiny panties and her tits seared into his brain.

Just before he shuts the door, he hears a quiet whisper of his name, a soft Matty in the darkness. He pauses, waiting for her to speak again.

“Stay.”

Something in her voice makes his heart ache. He stands, frozen in place, hesitant to return to her; afraid that he won’t have the willpower to resist her if she makes a move again. Like an unruly stepchild, his dick throbs as he adjusts himself.

“Please?”

Her voice is so sweet, he can’t help himself. His feet move of their own accord, back to the bed before he’s crawling under the covers beside her. Aurora’s arm immediately wraps around his stomach, snuggling into the crook of his shoulder. As he listens to her dozing off, Mat pretends it’s the alcohol that blankets his heart with warmth and not the girl sleeping soundly in his arms.

—

Bright light wakes her first. There’s a few, beautiful seconds of peace before the throbbing begins.

Aurora groans loudly, hand flying to shield her eyes. Timidly, she stretches her legs out slowly, to avoid the wave of searing pain through her skull. She has a memory of Mat’s hands touching her, dragging their way up her body, but she can’t decide if that was real or just a dream. Judging by the empty space next to her in bed, she assumes it was a dream.

She gropes for her phone on the bedside table—thankful that she had the foresight to plug in her phone in her inebriated state—and opens Instagram. Dante’s green Close Friends story bubble is one of the first she sees. The video that lies within makes her groan: it’s Aurora, illuminated by the dim, disco lights of the bar they ended up at in Rockville Centre, making an absolute fool of herself dancing. If you can even call it dancing. It’s more like a series of unhinged, discombobulated movements that barely follow the pulse of the music playing over the speakers.

But Mat Barzal is in the background, watching her like she put the stars in the sky. His eyes are warm, and the smile on his face is soft, relaxed; a look of adoration. Of love.

[Gina:] Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you and Mat? [Gina:] Dude is looking at you like you just birthed his firstborn on Dante’s story  [Gina:] Wait, he didn’t knock you up, did he?

Aurora snorts at the texts from her pseudo-sister. 

[Aurora:] Funny enough, your brother asked me the same thing [Aurora:] And no, he did not knock me up  [Gina:] Still waiting on the answer to my first question

Aurora is halfway through typing a message (“I’ll call you when I get home”) when she hears the front door open and close. A few seconds later, there’s a gentle knock at the door before a messy-haired Mat pokes his head in. “G’morning, sunshine.”

She groans, throwing the blanket over her head in an attempt to shield herself. “Can you stop yelling?”

He laughs, and though it’s lovely, the sound pierces her brain with a fiery stake. “So you don’t want me to tell you there’s bagels in the kitchen?”

Aurora peeks her head out from under the comforter. “Bagels, you say?”

“Bagel sandwiches,” he corrects. “Best on Long Island.”

Contemplating for a moment, Aurora glances at the glass of water on the nightstand, along with the two Advil sitting by it. He must have put them there this morning. She downs then, throws on a sweatshirt, and trudges into the kitchen behind Mat.

Aurora is convinced the bagel sandwiches have magic in them, reinvigorating her brain and hitting just the right spot. The two of them chew in silence for a while, Mat choosing to give her a few minutes to come back to life.

When he senses the medication might have kicked in, he speaks, slowly. He isn’t sure why he’s feeling so nervous. “Are you sure you have to go back today?”

She laughs and nods. “Sadly, I do have to get back to my actual job that I haven’t quit yet.”

“Just saying, you can come and be my roommate–free of charge. You just gotta do the dishes and help with a little laundry.”

Aurora’s eyebrow raises, taking a long sip of the hot mug of coffee he’d placed in front of her ten minutes ago. “So you want a live-in maid?”

“Well, when you say it like that…” Mat trails off with a laugh. “Really though. When are you supposed to hear back?”

“They just said in a couple weeks,” she shrugs. Only a few more weeks before life could change forever.

Something in their goodbye is different; a little bit timid, maybe even hesitant, but neither call it to attention. Mat gives her a squeeze in the departures lane, wishing her a safe flight, and Aurora promises to keep him updated on the job.

He watches her slip between the sliding doors, watching her figure retreat until he can’t see her anymore.

January 2023 — Vancouver, British Columbia 

Aurora huffs, blowing the hair out of her eyes as she concentrates on her phone in her hand. She types, deletes, then re-types her message. 

I got the job. 

Her finger hovers over the button to send, heart pounding. She doesn’t know why she’s nervous, not exactly, but she knows there’s a lot of weight behind those four words, knows that they have the potential to change everything. For her. For him. Everything.

[Mat:] Congratulations! Told you you’d kill it. 😊

The text is followed by a gif of Buddy the Elf, and Aurora almost snorts at the stupidity of it. She takes a breath, almost… disappointed? If nothing else, she was expecting a bit more excitement, more fanfare. 

Aurora presses down on the message and gives it a thumbs up.

Three hours later, she’s on the phone with Gina, gushing over the excitement of her job offer. She hasn’t even accepted it, but she’s still wistfully dreaming of how she might decorate her Manhattan apartment, anticipating the charm—among other things—of being in the greatest city in the world. 

Gina senses Aurora’s hesitation before she even says anything. “But…”

“…but if I go, I’m pretty sure I’m going to get my heart broken.” She can hear Gina contemplating on the other line, probably debating how to deliver her latest blow of hard-hitting advice.

Gina’s next sentence is quiet, but confident. “You just need to talk to him, ‘Ror.”

“I know.”

Aurora’s phone buzzes, but it isn’t until she gets off the phone with Gina a few minutes later that she sees the second text appear on her screen.

[Mat:] so, we gonna do this? [Aurora:] do what?

She watches the text bubbles appear, then disappear. The seconds feel like an eternity before a FaceTime call is popping up, a photo of 17-year-old Mat with upside down sunglasses on. Sliding to answer, she’s greeted by the sight of Mat, arm resting behind his head, silver chain peeking out of the hem of his white t-shirt. His hair is ruffled, and he’s looking at the camera with a knowing smirk.

“You and me,” he says simply. It takes Aurora a few moments to realize he’s responding to her text—and a few more before she realizes what he’s saying.

“You–are you—what?”

“You know, give it the old college try.” He offers a cheeky shrug of his shoulders, a flash of his charming smile.

“Mat, are you asking me out?”

“Were you expecting a grand proposal with roses and champagne?”

She ignores his snigger, too frenzied to acknowledge his sarcastic quip. Instead, she opts to get to the real question she has burning a hole in her chest. “Where is this coming from?” 

“I’ve been waiting for a chance with you since we were 15, ‘Rora. Jus’ never had one ‘til right now.”

Aurora’s jaw drops, words completely absent from her brain. This was everything she’d wanted to hear for the better part of a decade, and here he is, as casual as if he was asking her to pass the salt at the dinner table. 

Mat’s waiting for a response, so she shakes off the surprise and does her best to gather her composure. She isn’t sure what to feel: elated, irritated, and skeptical, and everything in between. “And you never thought to tell me you felt this way?”

He shrugs. “Jus’ did, didn’t I?”

Aurora resists the laugh at the simplicity of his Boy Brain. “Mathew Michael Paul Barzal, if you are fucking with me and this is some shit idea of a joke—”

“Why would I joke about something like that?” he says, then a glint takes over in his eyes. “I would like to be fucking you, though.”

An exasperated sigh leaves her throat, though she begrudgingly notes the way her stomach flips at his statement. “Can you not do—that—for five minutes, please? This is a lot of information to take in.”

Mat hums an apology, not really sorry. He watches the way she puts her phone down, his view now the slowly spinning ceiling fan in her apartment bedroom. He can hear the sigh, the sound of her feet padding slowly on the hardwood floor–pacing.

“I’m serious, Aurora.” He announces it out, loudly, maybe a little more formally than he expected. 

Her forehead peeks over the camera, frizzy, unstyled post-shower waves falling over her face. “Fuck, Mat.”

“You could come live with me in Garden City,” he says. “Take the subway in on the days you go into work. Could set up an office for you in the den.”

“Mat, I’m not fucking moving in with you when I don’t even know what this is,” she says, exasperated, ignoring the thought he’s clearly put into it all. She hears the words he’s saying, but after almost a decade of missed connections, crushed hopes, and mixed messages, she’s hesitant to really take them to heart. It’s a defense mechanism, not willing to trust him even though she’s pretty sure he’s serious. “Do you realize how insane you sound?”

“M’not,” he says, shakes his head for emphasis. “It’s always been you, Ror.”

At that, Aurora has to sit down, the weight of the words smacking her clean in the chest. She can feel the magic, the warmth, the fuzzies enveloping her heart, ready to soar into the clouds at what he’s saying. At the same time, she’s confused, uncertain, maybe a little angry. More frustrated than mad, really, but she knows she deserves an explanation all the same.

“Why haven’t you said anything this entire time? It’s been years, Mat. I’ve loved you since we were fifteen—waiting this whole time to hear you say this, to give me any fucking clue that maybe you felt the same way.”

He looks like a puppy who has been scolded for destroying a roll of toilet paper. Then, “You think I don’t want to be with you?”

“You never gave a sign. You never even acknowledged what happened between us.”

It’s the first sign of any remorse when Mat sighs, his eyes cast down from the camera. “I—I thought it was casual. We’ve lived so far apart I just thought—”

“—thought it wasn’t worth it?”

“No,” he says quickly, looking up to meet her gaze. “I thought you wouldn’t want to do it. The distance.”

“Thought you regretted it,” she admits. Her voice is so quiet Mat barely hears it.

“Regret sleeping with the girl I’ve been in love with since I was in high school? Yeah, okay,” he snorts. “My only regret is that we haven’t been doing it all this time.”

Aurora hums, overwhelmed by his confession—if you can call it that—and the influx of feelings that have inundated her chest. What he’s saying makes sense, in a twisted, boy-math kind of way.

“What does being—” she swallows the word girlfriend like a disgusting cough syrup. “—together look like?”

“Whatever you want it to look like.”

“What do you want it to look like?”

Mat hums. He thinks, envisions what calling Aurora his girl—for real, not just when he’s getting razzed by his teammates–would look like. A picture of waking up with her in his arms, sleepy and smiling. Eating takeout on the couch, her feet in his lap, sporting one of his t-shirts while they catch up on Succession. Seeing her in the stands at UBS, wearing his number on her back. Laughter, comfort, happiness. Home. 

In other words, the entire weekend he spent with her.

“Don’t say something stupid like, ‘unlimited sex’,” she adds, the dreamy smile on his face alerting her to the idea that some of his thoughts may, perhaps, be unsavory.

“Wasn’t gonna,” he replies, “but now that you mention it…”

“I’m going to hang up.”

“I’m just joking, ‘Ror. I mean, don’t get me wrong, that would be top of my list. But you gotta know that you’re way more to me than just great tits and a fat ass.”

“Mat!”

“Okay, okay, sorry,” he says, holding a hand up as if to defend himself from her scathing tone. Aurora’s eyes roll and she scoffs, though Mat swears he sees the corner of her lip turn up just slightly. “I’d… want it to look exactly like this.”

Aurora blinks, not expecting such a simple answer—not that she had any idea of what to expect out of his mouth, ever. The concept that they’re already there, minus the labels, is… overwhelming. A little bit unnerving, because everything that flicks through her mind just feels like more and more evidence that he’s right. Dante, Gina, everyone else saw it—she’d just been blind to it the whole time.

“So,” he says slowly, afraid to pop her thought bubble. “What d’you say?”

“Wish you were here and not on FaceTime,” she mumbles, embarrassed at the vulnerability that slips out.

“I’ll get a flight to Vancouver right now, if it helps.”

Aurora smiles melancholy, and it tastes bittersweet. She knows he’s serious, would be by her side as soon as humanly possible, if she asked. But she also knows his influence will only sway her in one direction, and she needs to make sure she’s making an unbiased decision.

“Ror?”

“I–I need some space, okay?”

“I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

—

The next week is a blur, a mess of emotions and running through the same scenarios in her head over and over again. Aurora sits at the countertop on FaceTime with Gina, dissecting the options for what feels like the thousandth time. 

“I don’t know what he doesn’t understand about space but this sure isn’t it,” she says, glancing at the bouquet of flowers sitting in a pretty—and expensive—glass vase.

“I think it’s sweet,” Gina insists. “Besides, we all know he isn’t the smartest.”

“It feels like he’s pressuring me, Gin,” Aurora says.

Gina rolls her eyes. “So he wants to show you he cares after years of burying his feelings. Sue the guy, why don’t you?”

Dusting a crumb off of the kitchen counter, scrolling through the relocation document TekStack had sent her along with her offer, Aurora sighs. Gina’s right; other than the flowers, he’d cooled it on everything else, and she missed it—the stupid memes, the goofy texts, the random (and gross) Snapchat series of him peeing in different cities. Missed him.

“Can’t wait to visit you. Keep the sex to a minimum while I’m in the guest bedroom, ‘kay?”

“Shut up!”

February 2023 — New York, New York

Mat fidgets, wiping his hands on his sides before glancing at his watch for the 16th time in five minutes. 3:17pm. Any minute now.

When he sees her coming down the catwalk, he doesn’t think twice; his strides quicken, along with the tick of his heart, and his fingers itch in anticipation. When he reaches her, he ignores the look of surprise on her face, hands cupping her jaw and pulling her mouth to his in a kiss that takes her breath away.

“I love you,” he says breathlessly when she pulls away, an expression of pure shock on her face. “Should’ve been telling you that for years. Please, please, please be mine. For real.”

The corners of Aurora’s lips twitch before they curl into a smile, and Mat has to resist the urge to kiss her again before she can even answer.

“Thought you said you weren’t gonna do an elaborate proposal,” she says with a laugh. 

“Would, if that’s what it took,” he mumbles. He knows he’s being a simp, but he’s not missing this chance now that it’s right in front of him, so close he can taste it—literally. Her chapstick lingers on his lips, subtle but enough that he knows it’s all her.

“Lucky for you, Barzy, I think an airport love confession is the perfect amount of elaborate.”

SIMILAR CONTENT

The Mystery of Love* Third Time’s the Charm* Adore You

[chukys-mouthguard]

broken memories - pt. 2

sequel to kinda tempting

3k words | loosely proof read

genre: fluff/angst

featuring: mat barzal x female reader x matt rempe

warnings: mentions of loss of pregnancy

previous chapter

It had been a month since you had broken the news to Matt about your baby. He was temporarily living with Jonathan Quick as he continued his offseason training to prepare for camp. The two of you kept in touch, often checking in on one another as you both navigated the stages of grieving.

You still talked on the phone at least twice a week, things remaining very cordial between you, which you appreciated. Never wanting to lose Matt entirely, hoping that you could remain friends despite everything.

Mat Barzal on the other hand, wasn’t being much of a friend as he’d yet to return any of your texts. Including your text you’d sent the night of the fight with Matt when he packed his things and left.

While you understood he was engaged and happy with someone else, he did promise that you could still reach out to him whenever you needed. Yet maybe that was simply a meaningless comment of comfort at the time, not something that held any true intent behind it.

You had finally started to feel like your normal self, getting fully back into work and preparing for the upcoming season. The organization pleasantly surprised you as they did not intend to fire you despite your relationship with Rempe, of course now that wouldn’t pose a problem. But you were happy that you could stay with the organization after you had become so sure this would be where you stayed for the foreseeable future should you and Matt have had your baby to raise.

Checking the time you had a little over an hour left in your work day, figuring you’d use the time to go get some footage of the recent renovations of the locker room to start making a few posts for the socials.

As you exited the elevator your phone was buzzing in your pocket, an image of Rempe brightly filling the screen. A smirk found its way across your lips at the sight of the photo. It was after his debut stadium series game, his eye black slightly smeared as he flashed a goofy smile at the camera. You’d never forget the excitement surrounding that day, but more importantly meeting Matthew.

“Hello Matthew Rempe, how can I help you?”

He chuckled at your sing-song tone as he greeted you. “I am actually getting in the car, just leaving training. But, I realized I need some stuff from the apartment, well your apartment. Can I swing by?”

Heading into the Rangers locker room you pulled your work phone from your pocket, snagging some photos and a few videos to ensure you had plenty of content to use in editing.

“Um, yeah sure. I’m finishing up here at MSG within the hour, then I’ll be heading home. I would say I can be there in like an hour or so? If that works for you?”

“Yeah, I’ll probably hit traffic on my way so that would be fine. I’ll see you soon!”

“Sounds good, see you in a bit.”

-

Dropping your bag on the island you headed down the hall to throw on some comfy clothes, which ended up being some shorts and a Rangers t-shirt that Matthew had left behind. You figured this wasn’t an item he was in need of so he wouldn’t mind you wearing it.

Before you could even get fully settled in from work there was a knock at your door.

“Matthew Rempe, what in the world is this?”

You eyed the boy as he carried in a box of food, setting it on the island as he wrapped you in a quick hug.

“Well, I knew you probably hadn’t eaten dinner yet. And it could be like old times, when we’d get our favorite takeout place for dinner.”

You smiled at the gesture, thinking back to how Matt’s diet surely took a turn throughout your pregnancy once the craving for Chinese food kicked in. Weekly Matt found himself bringing home whatever dish it was you craved, but he never once complained. Well, that is except for when you ended up with a better fortune in your cookie than he did.

“You really didn’t have to do this, I could’ve just made some leftovers or something.”

He shot you a playful smile as he held up the container of steamed dumplings.

“Really? You’d pass on dumplings for leftovers?”

You licked your lips as you stole the container from his hand, moving around to the other side of the island as you pulled out some plates and silverware. Passing some to Matt so he could serve up his food before the two of you found your familiar spots on the floor at your coffee table.

“So, how are you doing? Everything good?”

Nodding your head you reached for a napkin, wiping your mouth before you answered him.

“Yeah, starting to feel like my normal self again. It was a little rocky there for a bit. But, I’m starting to feel good. Able to make it through the workday without crying, which is a big plus. How about you?”

He also nodded, adjusting how he sat on the floor as he rested back on his hands.

“Yeah, same here. I mean, I still have my moments where I do the why me sort of spiel. But I would say I’ve gotten past a lot of the frustration and anger I felt for a while. And training has been freaking amazing, I’m so excited for camp. I’ve been working so hard, the boys are really impressed.”

The smile on his face as he told you about his offseason training schedule warmed your heart. A smile formed on your lips as you saw how excited he was, talking about some of the different workouts he’s pushed himself through. Matt was like a kid in a candy story as he talked about the upcoming season. He’d already come such a long way from the rookie you met at the stadium series.

“I’m really proud of you Matt, and I can tell you’ve been working hard. I can see it for sure!”

“Oh, so you were checking me out eh? The biceps are looking pretty good if I do say so myself.”

He shot you a wink as he flexed his bicep for you, making you roll your eyes playfully as you reached over to steal a bite of his sesame chicken.

“Seriously? Some things just never change I guess.”

He slightly chucked as you shrugged your shoulders. Stealing Matt’s food was always something you’d do after telling him you didn’t like his order. Which would always lead to a silly argument once you’d stolen almost half of his chicken from his plate. Leaving him with mostly rice and veggies, which were obviously not the reason for him ordering the dish. But he never complained, always happy as long as you were.

That was something you’d always appreciated about Matt. He was selfless, always willing to sacrifice anything for you, to put himself in difficult positions for you. But you always felt like you couldn’t give him the same, your heart being pulled in the opposite direction for a guy who clearly had moved on from you like it was nothing.

You hated that you’d hurt Matt, of course losing your baby wasn’t anything you’d ever done intentionally. But to know he still felt as though it was never him in your heart, that you were solely with him for your daughter and not because you liked him enough on his own, it hurt. Because maybe you were both wrong, maybe somehow things could have worked. Had your relationship not began the way it did, if you had simply walked away once you knew Mat had cheated. Maybe you two could've had a happy ending, rather than him moving out with you both left to pick up the pieces separately.

“Y/n!”

Snapping from your thoughts you looked up at Matt, his hand holding out two fortune cookies.

“You pick first, remember?”

It was always tradition for you to pick your cookie first, Matt’s rules. He said that your intuition was better than his, and most of the time your fortunes did suit each of you perfectly.

Taking the cookie on the right you playfully smiled, the two of you ripping open the packages as you each cracked open the cookies. Pulling out the small piece of paper, you read your fortune to yourself, biting your lip as you looked at Matt, seeing him already looking back at you in anticipation. He could see the tears welling in your eyes, immediately moving to your side to comfort you. His arms holding you tight as you cried, trying to pull yourself together as this wasn’t supposed to be a night for the two of you to be sad.

“What did it say?”

You took a deep breath as you sat up, wiping your tears as you read the message out loud.

“If you want the rainbow, you have to tolerate the rain.”

You softly chuckled, now realizing it seemed silly to cry over such a cliche message. But as you looked up at Matt he was fighting his own tears, sniffling as he tried to pull himself together.

“I think that was exactly what you needed to hear right now. Like I’ve always said, your intuition is a hell of a lot better than mine.”

He gave you a smile as he stood up, collecting the dishes and taking them into the sink as he began to clean them off. You then tossed the throw pillows back onto your couch before joining him. Taking a seat on the counter as you watched him dry the dishes before placing them back in the cabinet.

“Well what about you?”

He tossed the dish towel over his shoulder as he turned to look at you, crossing his arms as he leaned against the counter.

“What about me?”

“Your fortune!”

“Ohhh, let’s see, where did I put it?”

Typical Matt. He’d always put his fortune on the table, or in his pocket, the most random places thinking he’d lost it only to find it twenty minutes later.

“Here it is!”

Stuck to the bottom of his sock, that was a new one.

He playfully cleared his throat as he read from the tiny paper.

“A lifetime of happiness is in front of you.”

His eyes flashed up to meet yours, the words ringing in your ears and making your heart skip a beat. Though surely Matt didn’t see it that way, probably interpreting the fortune to be an overall meaning of the future, not literally right in front of him.

He simply shrugged as he placed the dish towel back onto the counter, “guess I’m gonna have to wait for happiness I guess. Unless, right in front of me.”

Looking down he stared at the sink, then flashed his eyes to you.

“This, washing dishes. It’s my future. Is this a sign that camp isn’t gonna go well for me?”

You rolled your eyes, practically falling off the counter at his god awful joke. Searching the apartment for your phone as he continued on, trying his best to make you laugh, which you always appreciated.

Looking at the screen you saw a multitude of text messages, all from none other than Mat. You’d immediately set your phone down, rejoining Matthew in the kitchen as you had no desire to talk to Barzal. It had been a month since you saw him, and you were not in the business of being friends only when it was convenient for him.

“Well, this has really been great, for the both of us I think. But, I gotta grab my stuff and head out. I’ve got an early training session tomorrow.”

Playfully you frowned at him as he headed to your previously shared bedroom, pulling a few things from the closet as he tossed them into a duffle bag he’d brought. Then he moved to the bathroom, and finally ended up in the living room grabbing a few books from the shelf.

“If you ever wanted to come over, not just when you need to grab some of your stuff, you can do that too you know?”

Matt softly smiled at you, appreciating the fact that you were open to still hanging out with him despite everything that happened. He felt awful for the way he left things, for accusing you of not necessarily having feelings for him or ever seeing yourself with him. It was pretty harsh when he thought back on it. And he wished things could’ve played out differently. But to even get an open invite from you to spend time together after the things he’d said, he felt that was a step in the right direction.

“I know that now, and I will definitely keep that in mind.”

He wrapped you in a hug before heading out the door, out of habit kissing your head before awkwardly apologizing. To which you’d told him you didn’t mind, it still felt so normal for him to do so. He promised to text you once he got home, but told you not to wait up as he might hit traffic on his drive and you need your rest for work in the morning. He truly did know you way too well.

Heading back into the living room you heard your phone buzzing on the coffee table. A photo of you and Mat Barzal filling the screen, one you’d apparently never changed after your breakup.

“Hello?”

“Hey, um, is everything okay?”

You scoffed at his somewhat annoyed tone as you took a seat on the couch, pulling a throw blanket over your legs as you spat back at him.

“Like you care? It’s been a month since I saw you and this is the first I’ve heard from you. What about the five other days I’ve tried reaching out? You didn’t care until now?”

He sighed on his end of the call, realizing he’d come off wrong, trying to apologize and start over as he explained himself.

“Well, you’re right. I should’ve responded sooner. But, Ava was in town, I couldn’t have her seeing me talking to you. But, I mean I texted you back now. You’re the one ignoring me now.”

He playfully chuckled, though you were not amused, Mat always thinking he could use charm to move past any wrongdoing.

“First of all, what good does texting me now do if I reached out weeks ago? Maybe I needed you then. And second of all, I wasn’t ignoring you. I was busy. Matt came over to grab some of his things and he brought dinner.”

Mat’s line of the phone went silent, eventually you’d heard him take a deep breath before he spoke.

“So, the guy packs up his things and walks out on you, but suddenly you’re hanging out and having dinner together? Are you two broken up or not?”

His tone was annoyed and angry, though you weren’t sure why considering he was happily engaged, which you didn’t think you needed to remind him of but clearly he’d forgotten.

“Last time I checked, you’re happy with Ava. So why do you care so much? I’m not allowed to have dinner with him? He and I were literally going to have a child, you think that everything between him and I just goes away overnight because I’m no longer pregnant?”

You found yourself laughing, the conversation seeming silly to you. There was no need for you to explain yourself to him, but part of you felt like you owed him something. After all, you did the same thing right back to him that he’d done to you.

“There was never anything between you two! Stop trying to pretend like there was. I get it okay, I fucked up. I should have never cheated on you. Do I think it gave you the right to do the same to me, no. But I could see how I pushed you into the arms of someone else. What I won’t let you do, is try to tell me that even for a second there was something between you and him. He got you pregnant after one night, and you two had to be together for your baby. That’s not love, that’s nothing close to what we had. So don’t you dare try to say it’s anything similar.”

You tried not to take his words personally, knowing they were coming from a place of hurt as he’d clearly not gotten over everything that happened. Rather just tried to mask it all by jumping into an engagement he clearly wasn’t satisfied with. But you weren’t going to just accept the things he said, letting him act as if there were never any feelings felt between you and Matthew.

“Mat, you have never once been in the same room as us. You’ve not been around Matt and I, you don’t know the feelings that are there. You don’t know how we feel towards one another, so you can’t tell me how I feel or how I don’t.”

“How you feel? So what, you still supposedly like this guy? After he packed his shit and walked out on you during one of the hardest moments of your life, you still have fucking feelings for someone like that? You’d want to be with the guy after all this?”

“Well I stayed with you during your shitty moments didn’t I?”

The comment was harsh, but you didn’t care. Mat always thought he could do no wrong, that the way he spoke was justified, and you were sick of him trying to make you feel bad, regardless if you’d hurt him or not.

“Why do you fucking care so much Mat? Must I remind you, you’re engaged! You chose her! So why could you possibly care so much if I still have feelings for Matt or would consider trying to do things the right way with him?”

The line went silent, and it felt as if minutes had passed before Mat finally confessed to you why’d he become so frustrated with you admitting you might truly have feelings for Rempe after all.

“Because I called off my engagement.”

[starry-hughes]

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.

[doc-pickles]

sick day | mat barzal

summary: Mat comes home from a roadie and takes care of his family

warnings: throwing up, so much fluff

a/n: y’all asked for dad Mat! enjoy this fluffy piece!

xoxo

nina

Mat was just coming off a four day roadie when you called. The plane had just touched down in New York and he’d turned his phone on only to find you calling.

“Hey baby, we just landed.”

“Mat don’t come home.”

Your words made Mat freeze, Tito looking at him in concern as his face dropped.

“W-what? Baby whatever it is we can-“

“No, no, no,” you rushed out as you realized what Mat thought. “No, god not like that. I’m sorry. We all have the stomach flu and I don’t want you getting sick. All three of us having been throwing up since yesterday morning.”

Mat let out a breath of relief as he leaned back into his seat, “I’m still coming home baby. If you’re all sick I want to take care of you.”

“But you have playoffs right around the corner and I-“

“I’ll see you soon,” Mat’s answer has you heaving a sigh, knowing that arguing with him would be useless. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

+

Half an hour later Mat walked through the front door just as your five year old son Luca puked into the bowl on his lap. You groaned as Rosie, your two year old, burrowed further into your chest with a pained moan. You met Mat’s eyes over their heads and sighed, “Welcome to the fun house.”

Mat dropped his bags by the door and toed his shoes off before going to help Luca. Once he was done throwing up Mat gathered him in his arms and took him upstairs for a bath. You and Rosie both dozed off, your shirt tightly clutched in her hands as she lightly snored.

When you woke up again Rosie was gone and Mat was just coming down the stairs. He smiled at you before he walked over and pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Both kids are bathed and sleeping. How are you feeling mama?”

“Like I got hit by a truck,” you groaned as Mat pulled you into his lap. “Stop, I’m all sweaty and gross and I don’t want to get you sick.”

“I just wanna hold my wife,” Mat groaned as he pulled you closer. “I haven’t seen you in four days.”

You gave up your struggling and settled into Mat’s hold, “And I spent a lot of that time puking my guts out.”

“Why don’t you go take a bath and I’ll watch out for the kids,” you eyed Mat skeptically but he simply met you with an eye roll. “I can handle them babe. Go take care of yourself.”

You begrudgingly walked upstairs, but you couldn’t fight Mat’s thinking as the warm water of the bath soothed your aching muscles. You stayed in far longer than you should have but after getting out you felt a hundred times better.

When you finally trekked back downstairs Rosie was settled on Mat’s hip as he cleared the dishes in the sink. Luca was bundled up on the couch, so you went over to him and pulled him into your lap.

“How are your feeling bubba,” you pressed a kiss to his dark hair as he snuggled close to you. His forehead didn’t feel as warm as earlier so you took that as a win.

“‘m feeling better,” Luca mumbled as he held on tightly to you. “Daddy made toast and I didn’t frow it up.”

You looked up and Mat met your eye over both of your kids heads. He smirked and you swore your heart beat a little faster. You truly couldn’t imagine doing life with anyone but Mat.

The rest of the day went by easily. You all curled up on the couch to watch a movie, Rosie clinging to Mat and refusing to move. Not that Mat was complaining, his daughter tucked in his side as he ran his fingers through her dark curls.

When Luca mentioned that he was hungry Mat was up in an instant to make soup for everyone. Rosie still clung to his chest as he moved around the kitchen and told her everything he was doing. By the time everything was finished Rosie was asleep, arms still tightly wrapped around Mat’s neck.

“I’m gonna go put her down and then I’ll get you both some soup,” Mat leaned down to kiss Luca’s forehead then yours before he headed upstairs with Rosie.

The soup was the perfect thing for your still uneasy stomach. Luca even had a second bowl which made Mat beam with pride. The recipe was from his mom, something he had asked her for the first time Luca had come down with a bad cold. It was a tradition at this point to make it on sick days and you couldn’t complain.

When Luca began to drift off at the table Mat took him upstairs and put him to bed. You began tidying up the kitchen, carefully washing out dishes when Mat came back, “Let me finish cleaning babe.”

“But I-“

“You’re still sick. Go lay down, I’ll be up in a minute,” Mat pressed a kiss to your temple before pushing you towards the stairs with a playful swat to your butt.

You took time to do your nighttime routine, feeling better than you had in days. By the time Mat came upstairs you were tucked under the covers and half asleep.

“C’mere baby,” Mat whispered as he slid into bed, arms stretched out toward you. “I missed sleeping next to you.”

You gladly scooted across the bed and settled onto Mat’s chest, his hands slipping under your shirt to rub your back, “Thank you for taking care of us today.”

“That’s my job,” Mat mumbled into your hair. “I promised you in sickness and in health. Just trying to stay true to my vows.”

As you both drifted off to sleep you couldn’t help but think about how grateful you were to have Mat by your side.

[midnightsnyx]

girl at home | mat barzal | part 9

pairing: mat barzal x fem!reader

warnings: angst, mentions of pregnancy, not edited word count: 2.1k authors note: i am back with a little less brain!! (literally) it took me a bit to start writing again cause I had some slowness on my right side so I wasn't quite up to writing. BUT i hope you guys like p9 and thank you so much for the continuous love on this story <3 the first bit is marlee's POV and after the * it's back to readers pov. hope u all like & pls lmk what you think <3

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MARLEE

Marlee Jones loved her job. It was something she took pride in; helping bring new lives into the world and being there for all the mamas. Of course there were always the hard days, the days that made her hug Stella a little tighter when she got home from a shift. Her job had its ups and downs, but at the end of the day, she wouldn’t want to do anything else. 

So, her panic is warranted when she comes across a certain patient file. She wasn’t looking for it, but when her eyes caught the name and there weren’t any other people nearby, she couldn’t help herself. It’s against HIPAA, and if anybody found out, she would be fired without question but she slipped the file in between a couple others and walked to a random supply closet. She closed and locked the door behind her before pulling the file out and opening it. Her eyes quickly scanned the pages, the words Hysterical Pregnancy making her heart race. She had to double check the name on the file twice, before believing it. 

She knew that someone would notice the missing file, so she quickly found a printer and copied the pages, tucking them in her tote bag and putting the file exactly where it was. 

Nobody would know.

*

Your first instinct is to calm Marlee down. Her panicking is making you panic and at least one of you needs to keep a straight head. You’re trying to let her words sink in without letting your mind go down a rabbit hole. You need to see all the facts before letting yourself do that.

“Marlee,” you reach out to grab her shaking hands. “What happened?”

She looks up at you and takes a deep breath. “I can’t- I can’t tell you the details but she’s not pregnant. She lied, and it’s already caused so much damage between you, and Mat and Liana… and Nora.” She pulls her hands away from yours and buries her face in them.

You decide not to remind her that Mat already fucked things up before Calista dropped the baby bomb on him because she knows that. Focus on one disaster at a time. 

Calista lied about being pregnant. Mat doesn’t know this, and even if you try to tell him, you have no idea how he’ll react. Really, it’s none of your business and you can very well go on with your life because Mat has let you know loud and clear what his feelings are. He wants Calista in his life despite you not wanting her in Nora’s life. He technically has no rights, no say in what happens but when he first found out about her and asked to be in her life, you’d so desperately wanted to let him. 

“How long can she pull off this lie until he finds out the truth?” you ask quietly and she lifts her head from her hands.

“Depends,” she mumbles.

“On what?”

“How deep she has him pulled into her fantasy.”

. . .

You let Nora spend a little more time with Stella, mainly wanting her to burn as much energy from the sugar high she’s on from the ice-cream. She’s sleepy when you buckle her in her carseat and you’re pretty sure she’s asleep but she mumbles something and you look to see her looking at you with droopy eyes.

“What was that?” you ask softly.

She looks down, avoiding eye contact with you which is worrisome. 

“Do you think Mat would want to see me?” she whispers. “Without her?”

She obviously doesn’t need to clarify who she's referring to and it breaks your heart that a six-year-old has to worry about things like this. 

“I can ask,” you tell her, unsure why she wants to see him suddenly. “You don’t have to go see Mat if you don’t want to, baby.”

By now, you’re pulling into your driveway so you can turn the jeep off and turn to give her your full attention. She still won’t look at you so you reach out and tap on her leg until she looks up. 

“I want to,” she says but doesn’t elaborate so you don’t push. 

“Okay, I’ll call him tomorrow.”

She just nods and starts to unbuckle her seatbelt so you get out and help her. She doesn’t complain when you carry her inside, helping her change into pajamas and brush her teeth. When she asks if she can watch a movie before bed, you don’t have the heart to deny her, even though it’s close to her bedtime so you set her up on the couch and put her favorite movie on. She’ll be out like a light in less than twenty minutes so while you’re waiting, you grab your phone and pull up Mat’s contact. Your finger hovers over the call option but you’re not sure you want to talk to him over the phone so you go into your text messages instead. The last messages between the two of you were when you last met up and even then they were short and to the point which makes this text easily simple.

To Mat: Nora wants to see you.

You lay your phone on the counter and get a glass of water while waiting for his response. You’re unnecessarily nervous, mainly because you are expecting him to start an argument the moment you tell him that Nora doesn’t want Calista to be there. You don’t even feel comfortable letting Mat see her because of what he said, but you can’t turn her request down. Not when she was so adamant about not wanting to see him, and out of the blue deciding that she does. 

When you check on Nora while waiting for a response, she’s asleep so you pick her up and carry her to bed. You spend a minute just watching her after you’ve tucked her in. You’re desperate to see what’s going on in that little head of hers.

Just as you walk back to the kitchen, your phone buzzes and you freeze. Maybe messaging Mat tonight was a bad idea, and you should’ve just waited until tomorrow. It’s too late now though so you walk over and look to see Mat’s name and an unread message. 

From Mat: ok

From Mat: when?

It bothers you, how nonchalant he’s acting after everything that’s happened. This is about Nora though, so you take a breath and try to decide on a date.

To Mat: Sunday?

From Mat: ok

You want to scream at him and take back the offer but remind yourself again that Nora explicitly asked to see him and it’s her decision to make. 

So, you set up a place and time and tell him that she doesn’t want to see Calista. You expect him to argue, but he responds with another simple ok, and that’s that. 

. . .

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Marlee asks, crossing her arms and glaring at Mat who’s sitting on a bench at the park you agreed to meet at. The two of you are standing outside her jeep, stalling a little before going over there. 

Nora asked if Stella could come to the park too and Marlee was pulling out of her driveway before you could finish asking. You’re a little worried that she’s going to yell at Mat, but you figure with the kids there, she will contain herself unless he says something out of line.

“Nora asked to see him,” you remind her but she just grumbles something under her breath. 

You’re ready to get this over with so you open the door and let Nora and Stella climb out of the jeep. Normally, they would race to the playground but Nora is hesitating, glancing over to where Mat is. He hasn’t noticed that you’re here yet which is good, because you are about five seconds away from just putting the kids back in and driving away. 

Nora sighs quietly before walking over to Mat. You and Marlee hang back a little but Stella grabs her hand and sticks close to her. 

When Mat sees her, his face lights up and for a second, you want to forgive him so everything can go back to how it was before. You can’t though, not when what he said is still so fresh and not when you know about Calista’s lies.

“Hey peanut,” he says softly, staying seated while Nora stands in front of him, looking down and scuffing her shoe on the gravel. He looks at you when she doesn’t say anything but you just shrug even though you’re confused. You’re about to ask Nora if she wants to just go to the playground when she breaks her silence.

“Are you not my daddy?” she asks quietly and it takes you off guard. You had this conversation with her, assuring her that Calista was lying but she must want to hear it from Mat.

“What?” he asks, looking at you before turning his attention back to her.

“Calista told me that you’re not my daddy,” she says more firmly, finally looking up at him. Her arms are crossed and she’s glaring at him. You’d be impressed if you weren’t so worried about what Mat may say.

His mouth opens and closes a couple times and he looks like a fish out of water. He looks at you again, as if he’s expecting you to step in but you just raise an eyebrow at him as if to say I told you so.

“I think she was confused-” he begins to say which is absolutely the wrong thing to say because it sets Nora off. 

She stomps her foot and her glare hardens. “No! She said that mommy lied and that you’re not really my daddy. She told me that I don’t have a daddy.”

Before he can say anything, she’s storming off toward the playground, Stella chasing after her. 

“Do I need to say I told you so?” you ask sharply, now that the kids are out of hearing range.

“You just did,” he mumbles and Marlee, who has been quiet up until now, steps towards Mat.

“You’re a piece of work,” she snaps and Mat looks at her confused. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Do I need to repeat myself?” she says, and you’re more than happy to let her say what’s on her mind. 

“You’re letting your girlfriend tell your daughter that you’re not her father, and instead of comforting Nora, you’re trying to defend your girlfriend!” 

For a moment, you’re scared Marlee is going to get angry enough that she’ll tell him the truth about Calista, but she takes a deep breath and turns away to go to where the girls are playing. You watch her walk over until she reaches them before turning back to Mat. 

He’s staring at the ground and you don’t know why you’re still standing here but you guess you’re just waiting for Mat to say something.

“I fucked up,” he eventually mumbles and you scoff. 

“When did you come to that brilliant conclusion?” 

There’s the tiniest part of you that wants to bring up Calista, just to see if he’ll tell you anything but you’re not sure you’re in the mood to hear about her. Not when you know the truth. 

“Liana is mad at me,” he tells you, which is news, because you thought she was just angry at you. 

“I can’t imagine why.”

You look back at Nora, smiling when you see her laughing. She looks more like herself, rather than the gloomy kid she’s been the past couple days since she asked to see Mat. Like she got what was bothering her off her tiny shoulders. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Mat doing the same but his smile isn’t as real. If you weren’t still angry at him, you’d feel bad but you can’t let go of what he said and the fact that he tried again to defend Calista. 

“She’s a good kid,” he says softly and you hum in agreement. 

“Did you know?” he asks, “that she was going to say that?”

“No,” you tell him. It’s not a lie - she didn’t tell you why she wanted to see Mat, and you didn’t want to push. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, but you shake your head and look directly at him.

“Sorry isn’t going to fix it this time. Marlee was right, instead of apologizing to Nora, who deserves to hear that more than me, you won’t stop making excuses for Calista,” you tell him. “I don’t know what you’re expecting from Nora and I, but sorry isn’t the answer.” 

He frowns, but nods, seemingly accepting your response. You leave it at that and walk over to where Nora, Stella, and Marlee are, grinning when your daughter reaches for you. She hugs you when you pick her up and when you look back at the bench Mat was sitting at, he’s already gone.

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