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fallinallincurls · 18 days ago

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The Moment I Knew

a barzy fic!! i had the best time writing this for the eras tour challenge hosted by @wyattjohnston and @comphy-and-cozy! getting to combine two things i love (hockey and taylor swift) made this fic so much fun to write and i hope you love it as much as i do.

hope you enjoy!! feedback is always appreciated! xx

song: the moment i knew (taylor's version)

word count: 2.4k

This was not how this night was supposed to go.

Your friends decided to throw a huge party at one of the most popular rooftop bars in Manhattan for your birthday this year. They promised the view of the city was gorgeous, the drinks were amazing and the night was sure to be one to remember for years. It was the perfect excuse to finally wear the stunning dress you’ve been saving for months so to say the least, you were beyond excited to celebrate turning another year older.

What you didn’t expect, however, is the text you sent to Mat hours ago to go unread. It was just a reminder that the party started at eight and that you couldn’t wait to see him. But instead of receiving a message back that he would be there or even a simple red heart emoji, you got silence.

And that’s all you can think about now even though you’re surrounded by your closest friends who couldn’t be happier to celebrate you.

Despite the drinks that are flowing, the glittering New York City skyline and the hundreds of pictures that have been snapped to remember the night, you couldn’t focus on anything but the fact that the person who matters the most isn’t here.

He promised he would be.

Your eyes remain glued to the door waiting, hoping, to see him burst through the crowd wearing that signature “baby, I’m right here smile” he reserves just for you. Friends ask how you’re doing and you nod along, faking the happiness you should be feeling at the moment. But every time someone says his name or goes “Where’s Mat?” that sinking feeling in your stomach becomes more and more obvious because as the minutes tick by, it’s clear that he isn’t going to show up.

How could he? How could he forget?

Yes, Mathew Barzal may be the face of the New York Islanders franchise and one of the best players currently in the NHL, but outside of hockey, he’s yours. Your boyfriend, your light, the person who makes you feel at home no matter where you are as long as you’re with him.

You vividly remember him grinning when he found out about the plan your friends put together. In your mind, you see the moment when he said “I can’t wait to celebrate my girl,” before he pulled you in for a deep kiss. It’s unlike him to just bail on something especially when he promised he’d be here and he knows how much this night means to you.

Yet, here you are, standing in your sparkly party dress with red lipstick on searching for the one thing missing from this perfect night. The man who holds your heart.

“Hey,” your best friend slides up next to you, gently shoving a rum and coke into your hand. With just a glance at her, you notice her smile isn’t as bright as usual. She must know something is up. “How are you holding up? Having fun?”

“So much. Thank you again for putting this together.” You say, hoping you disguise the sadness well enough she doesn’t pick up on it.

“It’s what you deserve.” She replies honestly and despite everything, you couldn’t be more grateful for her. Before you can express that feeling though, she continues speaking and what she says next breaks your heart a little bit more. “Is Mat coming? I’m surprised he isn’t here yet, but the night is still young.”

Tears prick at your eyes and it’s then you realize you aren’t the only one painfully aware of the handsome Canadian’s absence from the party.

“He said he would be.” It’s the only response you have. Deep down you don’t even know if he will actually be here tonight even if you’re holding onto every shred of hope. Maybe he’s running late and hasn’t looked at his phone in a long time. Maybe his phone died after he left and he’s on his way right now but you have no idea. There are a million excuses you could make, but something tells you that none of them are the reality of the situation.

What do you do when the one who means the most to you is the one who didn’t show?

Feeling the overwhelming heartache well up in your chest, you excuse yourself from the conversation and head right toward the bathroom. That’s the one place you can fight these tears off and regain your composure without anyone else around.

When you look in the mirror and stare down your reflection, another stab of pain shoots through your heart. The woman you’re looking back at should be so happy she can’t stop smiling, eyes full of wonder and nothing on her mind but having fun with the people who she loves so dearly.

Instead, you’re trying to stop the tears from falling so your makeup stays intact and hoping you can enjoy even a second of this fantastic party. This isn’t how tonight was supposed to go.

And that’s when the anger sets in.

You and Mat may have only been together for six short months, but in that time, you have fallen head over heels in love with him. He’s been the most incredible boyfriend and you haven’t regretted giving your heart over to him. He hasn’t ever broken a promise or lied or did anything to make you feel unloved.

Until tonight.

And how dare he ruin something that was meant to be full of joy and unforgettable memories? How dare he do this to you and ruin a night that was about celebrating you? You shouldn’t be crying over him at your birthday party.

You deserve better than that.

Taking a deep breath, you freshen up your makeup and recite a pep talk in your head. This might be the worst pain your heart has ever endured, but you deserve to enjoy the night no matter what and that’s exactly what you’re going to try to do.

Starting now.

As you step back out to the bar, you focus on everything but the gaping hole Mat has left on the night. The closer you get to where your friends are gathered, you spot a beautifully decorated cake sitting on the tabletop.

“Y/N!” Your best friend calls out, waving you over with a beaming smile. It all happens in slow motion. Taking your place behind the cake with the candles lit waiting for you to make a wish. Everyone circling around and singing happy birthday to you. As you blow out the candles and make a wish amid the loud roar of applause, all you can think about is what’s missing. About who is missing.

The tall, brunette hockey player whose hazel eyes are always soft with admiration around you.

You miss him even through the pain he’s caused tonight. But you savor every moment with your friends until it’s time to go home. After all the hugs, happy birthday wishes and goodbyes, you check your phone before gathering the gifts everyone brought. Still not a single text or call from Mat.

That’s the moment you know.

This is it.

You can’t dedicate yourself to a relationship just to not be cherished by a man who is too caught up in his own world to remember something as simple as your birthday. You deserve a better love than this.

The moment your apartment door closes behind you, a ringing fills the silence. Your phone. The screen is lit up with a picture of you and Mat after an Isles game, one of the first you attended as his girlfriend. You don’t overlook the fact that it took him all night to call. The party's over now and you know answering this call is going to result in him apologizing for not being there.

“Mat,” You say curtly when the call connects. Tears prick at your eyes again, but you push the emotions back in an effort to get through this conversation without breaking down.

“Y/N,” Mat breathes out, his tone heavy but you can’t identify with what emotion. “I’m sorry, I didn’t make it.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

And that’s when you told him. Even though he was the right person, it was the wrong time and you couldn’t do this anymore. If you happen to run into him at some point in the future, the door isn’t closed on the possibility of being together again.

For right now though, you bid the great love you had with Mathew Barzal goodbye.

~~~~

It all happens in slow motion.

The DJ’s voice booms through the speakers in the ballroom announcing for the crowd to welcome Mr. and Mrs. Barzal to the dance floor for their first dance as a married couple. The fairy lights twinkle while the sound of steady applause and loud cheers erupt all around you. The familiar feeling of another’s hand, his hand, in yours somehow makes the smile on your face even brighter.

You know this is the moment. The moment you’ve been dreaming of since you were a little girl, planning out the perfect song selection and wondering what your future husband would look like. The moment you watched in countless movies with stars in your eyes, waiting for the day you would get to experience that magical occasion.

Never in a million years would you have thought a professional hockey player with a heart of gold would’ve been the man you fall for and decide to spend the rest of your life with.

Yet, it feels like each step you take towards the dance floor hand in hand with the love of your life is slower and slower.

“You okay, love?” Mat whispers, pulling you in towards him as the soft notes of the carefully selected song begin to play. Your arms settle over his shoulders as you meet his gaze that’s full of nothing but adoration.

“More than okay. Just can’t believe today is real. That this dance is really happening right now.” You admit as a blush spreads across your cheeks.

The smile that blossoms across Mat’s face is a sight that you never ever want to forget. He’s looking at you like you hung the moon and stars, pure happiness on display across his handsome facial features. For the millionth time, you wonder how you are lucky enough to be the one who gets to love him for the rest of your lives.

“Well, I can confirm that today is very real and we are in fact dancing to our dream first dance song in front of everyone who cares about us.” Mat says happily, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he continues to lead you around the dance floor. “But I can also confirm that it’s a little unreal that we’re married now and I love you more than anything else in this entire world.”

Without either of you saying a word, you both know why this feels unbelievable. That fateful night a few years ago where Mat missed your birthday celebration and everything came crashing down in an instant. Then, you never could’ve predicted this is where you’d end up in the future. But you’re so grateful that it worked out the way it did.

You’re married to Mat. The man of your dreams. The one who has won your heart and made your life brighter by just existing. It’s both a shock but the best thing to ever happen to you.

“What are you thinking about?” Mat asks softly, lips brushing your temple as you continue to sway together.

“This used to feel like a distant dream after everything that happened. But I’m so glad everything worked out in our favor because this is all I’ve ever wanted since we met.” You whisper, looking up at him. His hazel eyes are soft with love and your heart skips a beat just looking at him. Your husband.

“I never told you, but that was the moment I knew.” Mat replies, voice quiet but full of emotion. “That was when I knew you were the only one for me. I had a pretty good idea before everything happened, which was all my fault, but losing you like that was the worst pain I’ve ever felt in my life. Not having you by my side was my new worst nightmare and my heart was completely broken. But I knew when you ended the call that night, you were my everything and I was an idiot for messing it up. I knew being with you after that would be a stretch, but I am still eternally grateful that we found our way back to each other and are here right now.”

Shock ripples through you as Mat’s admission processes in your mind. Through all these years, he’s never given an inkling that he went through all that pain after the breakup that night. But knowing that moment was when he realized he loved you more than anything and would do anything to get you back made a wave of emotions hit you all at once.

You raise a hand to his cheek and gently rub a thumb across his skin. Tears prick at the back of your eyes as you gaze at him. How lucky are you that the love of your life came back to you? After all the pain that happened from that one night, he learned from it, became a better person and brought the love you both deserve to life?

“Me too, you have no idea.” You murmur, an adoring smile blooming across your lips before leaning in to kiss Mat as if no one was watching.

Cheers erupt from the crowd watching the two of you dance which pulls you back to the present. The last notes of the song fade out and Mat spins you around just to finish the dance with a dramatic dip before kissing you once again. Nothing but pure happiness and love surrounds you as you try to commit every detail of this moment to memory.

“Want to know something?” You ask Mat while reaching for his hand to continue dancing as the space around you fills up with the guests who want to join in on the fun.

“Always, baby.”

“This is the moment I know that I will be incredibly happy and loved for the rest of my life. Because I’m with you.”

And there you are, standing in your wedding dress with red lipstick on and everyone around you singing along to the song blasting through the speakers as the person who means the most to you stays by your side all night. The gold band on his left hand glittering in the light is a constant reminder that nothing is missing. In fact, it couldn’t be more perfect.

#mat barzal #mathew barzal #mat barzal fic #mat barzal fics #mathew barzal fic #mathew barzal fics #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal fluff #mat barzal angst #hockey fic #hockey imagine #nhl fic #mathew barzal imagine #new york islanders #mathew barzal fluff #ny islanders

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v6quewrlds · 2 months ago

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❝ know no better, m. barzal. ❞ ‎ ‎ ┉

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀summary: with your work responsibilities taking you away from long island, you and mat haven't had much time to blow off some steam. his friends, however, are tired of being on the receiving end of mat's "steam" and enlist you to help.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: about half way through the nnn series! i am a diva!mat truther so enjoy. day five of my no nut november series.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: smut, please do not interact with my work if you are under 18. language, established relationship, oral (male receiving), mat’s a lil grump.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: mathew barzal x reader.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 2.4k.

You looked up from your laptop, your eyes scanning the crowded airport lounge. The clacking of keyboards and murmur of distant conversations created a familiar backdrop to your focused silence. You sighed, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as you awaited your flight's boarding call. Your phone buzzed, and you picked it up, expecting to see a message from work reminding you of the deadlines that had kept you in Boston for nearly a month. Instead, you found a text from Ethan Bear.

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. You hadn't spoken to Ethan in ages, not since the last time you and Mat had seen him over the summer.

The message was simple: "Hey, noticed Mat's been on edge lately?"

You read it again, a hint of confusion creasing your forehead. Of course, you had noticed. Mat's mood swings were like the tides, but you had just chalked it up to the pressure of his season and your demanding work schedule pushing distance between the two of you.

You typed back, "He makes it hard not to lol he's prob just stressed with the season. Why?"

Ethan's response was swift and to the point. "It's that dumb No Nut November bet. He's losing his shit like a little bitch. Can you fix him?"

You couldn't help but laugh out loud at the absurdity of it all. Mat, your six-foot hockey player of a boyfriend, reduced to a grumpy mess over a bet? It was almost endearing in its ridiculousness. But Ethan's concern was clear, and you knew you couldn't ignore it.

You replied, "I'll see what I can do," with a winking emoji, feeling less than guilty for the amusement that bubbled up inside you.

As you boarded the plane, you couldn't shake the image of Mat, all six feet of brooding masculinity, brought to his knees by his own stubbornness. You chuckled to yourself, imagining the look on his face when you told him you knew about the bet. The flight back to Long Island was a blur of work emails and half-hearted attempts at relaxing, your mind racing with ideas to tease him into dropping this absurd challenge.

When you finally stepped into your apartment, the tension hit you like a wall. Mat's heavy footsteps echoed through the hallway, and you could hear him muttering under his breath. You set down your bag and called out, "Honey, I'm home!" with a playful lilt in your voice.

Mat appeared around the corner, his eyes flashing with a mix of relief and annoyance. "Fucking finally," he grumbled, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly in an attempt to suppress a smile.

You rolled your eyes, your amusement clear. "What crawled up your ass?" You stepped closer to him, your eyes sparkling with mischief.

Mat sighed, running a hand through his thick, dark hair. "You wouldn't understand."

You stepped closer, your curiosity piqued. "Try me."

Mat rolled his eyes, his frustration palpable. "It's just this stupid bet with the guys. I can't believe how much it's messing with my head."

Your smile grew. "Oh, the No Nut November bet? That's what's got you all worked up?" You couldn't resist poking the bear. "You know you can just tell them you can't do it, right?"

Mat's jaw clenched, and he glared at you. "It's not that simple. My pride's on the line."

You chuckled, reaching up to cup his face in your hands. "Okay, tough guy," you said, your voice gentle and teasing. "But if it's really bothering you, maybe you should just, I don't know, not do it?"

Mat's eyes searched yours for a moment, and you could see the conflict in his gaze. He was torn between his pride and his desire to end the torment. You decided to take matters into your own hands. You leaned in, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. "I have an idea," you murmured against his skin. "How about I help you relieve some of that tension?"

His eyes widened, and you knew you had his attention. "How?" he asked, his voice gruff with hope.

You stepped closer, your hands sliding down to his chest, your thumbs tracing the firm muscles beneath his shirt. "How about I give you a little something to take your mind off of it?" you suggested, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper. You saw the spark of interest in his eyes and knew you had him in your grasp.

Mat's expression softened slightly, his eyes flickering with curiosity and a hint of desperation. "What are you thinking?" he asked, his tone cautious.

You smirked. "I could give you a reason to lose the bet?" you offered, your voice laced with playful challenge. You watched as the realization dawned on him, and his eyes grew dark with need.

"Did someone set you up to this?" he asked, his voice thick with suspicion, trying to hide his growing excitement.

"Let's just say I have my ways of finding things out," you replied with a wink. You could feel the tension in the room start to ease as Mat's curiosity took over.

Mat looked at you skeptically. "Alright. But if you're just messing with me..."

You giggled, standing on your tiptoe to whisper in his ear, "I'm not messing with you, baby." Your breath was warm and sweet, sending a shiver down his spine. "I want to help."

Mat stared at you for a moment, trying to gauge your seriousness. He was desperate for relief, and the thought of losing the bet was becoming increasingly more appealing by the second. With a huff, he stepped back, his arms crossing over his broad chest. "Okay, fine. What do you have in mind?"

You took a step closer, your eyes never leaving his. "Well, I was thinking..." you trailed off, your hands moving to the hem of his shirt, "maybe I could help you relax." You began to lift his shirt, your hands gliding over his abs, your manicured nails lightly scraping against his skin. "You know, just a little something to take the edge off."

Mat's resolve was crumbling. The feel of your hands on him was too tempting to resist. He let out a gruff chuckle, trying to maintain his tough exterior. "You're really going to do this?"

Your smile grew mischievous as you continued to lift his shirt, exposing his toned stomach. "Mmhmm," you hummed, your eyes flicking up to meet his. "I think it's only fair that if you're going to be a grumpy mess, I get to enjoy the perks of helping you out."

Mat's arms fell to his sides, his eyes locked on yours as you continued to explore his torso with your fingertips. "And what perks would those be?" he asked, his voice low and gruff with anticipation.

Your smile was sly. "Well," you said, your thumbs grazing the waistband of his sweatpants, "I was thinking I could give you a nice, long, slow release."

Mat's eyes darkened, and he took a sharp intake of breath. "Fuck it," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. He leaned in, capturing your mouth in a fiery kiss that sent shockwaves through your body. Your fingers tangled in his hair as you gave in to the passion you had been craving for weeks.

The two of you stumbled into the bedroom, the door slamming shut behind you. You pushed him down onto the bed, your body straddling him. You could feel his heart racing under you, his chest rising and falling rapidly. You took a moment to appreciate the sight of him, his muscles taut and his eyes filled with a desperate need that made your own pulse quicken.

Mat's hands found the zipper of your jacket, his fingers fumbling with the fabric as he tried to get it off of you. You laughed and helped him, shrugging out of the jacket and tossing it aside. You leaned in again, your mouth tracing a line of kisses down his neck and chest, feeling his body respond to your touch. His breathing grew ragged, and you knew you had him exactly where you wanted him.

As you kissed down his body, you felt the tension in Mat's muscles start to unwind. You could feel the heat radiating from him, and you knew that you were winning the battle against his pride. With a knowing smile, you began to undo the drawstring of his shorts, your eyes focused on his.

"Missed this pretty, perfect dick," you murmured against the fabric of Mat's shorts, your voice muffled and playful. Mat's body tensed in anticipation as you slowly pulled them down, revealing him to your gaze. You took a moment to admire him, your eyes sparkling with a mix of humor and desire.

Mat groaned, his hands gripping the bed sheets. "You're evil, you know that?"

Your eyes gleamed with victory. "Only when it's for your own good," you teased, your fingertips brushing against his arousal. You watched his reaction, his eyes rolling back slightly, raven hair beautifully contrasting the crisp white sheets.

Mat's hand reached up to tug at your hair, urging you closer. "Just do it," he begged, his voice a mix of frustration and need.

You chuckled, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "Pushy," you said, your voice low and soothing. You leaned down, your warm breath fanning across his skin. Mat shivered as you pressed a kiss to the tip, your lips curling into a smug smile at his gasp. You took your time, teasing him with feather-light kisses and gentle strokes, your tongue swirling around the head of his cock.

Mat's eyes were squeezed shut, his teeth grinding together. "Baby," he ground out, his voice a desperate plea. You conceded and took him into your mouth, your movements slow and deliberate, savoring his taste and the sound of his moans. His hips bucked upwards, and you held him down with a firm hand, keeping the pace at a torturous crawl.

Your eyes flicked up to meet his, watching the myriad of emotions playing across his face: surprise, pleasure, and a hint of embarrassment at his loss of control. You took him deeper, your cheeks hollowing as you sucked gently, and he swore, his hands fisting in the sheets. The salty tang of his sweat mingled with the faint scent of his cologne, and you felt a thrill of power knowing you could bring this strong, confident man to the brink of madness with just your mouth.

Mat's thighs tensed beneath you as you increased your pace, your hand pumping in time with your mouth. His breath grew ragged, his body trembling with the effort to hold back. You took him deeper still, your throat tightening around him, the sensation of his impending climax thrumming through your body.

"Shit," Mat groaned, his voice tight with need. "C’mon, babe, I can't..."

You released him slowly. "You can't what, baby?" you whispered, your voice like velvet against his sensitive skin.

His eyes flew open, and he stared at you, desperation warring with the need to maintain his pride. "I'm gonna come, baby," he warned, his voice strained.

You pulled back slightly, your eyes gleaming. "Mmm, I know," you said, your voice a sweet taunt. With a devilish smile you held his gaze as you stuck your tongue out, a line of saliva connecting your mouth to his glistening cock. Mat's hips jerked upwards involuntarily, his eyes widening with shock and pleasure.

"You're gonna lose that bet," you whispered, your breath warm against his sensitive skin. Mat's jaw clenched, and he nodded, the fight draining out of him. His hand reached for you, guiding you back down to him. "Good boy," you murmured, your mouth enveloping him again.

Mat's hips began to thrust slightly, his movements growing more urgent. You felt a rush of wetness between your legs, your own desire spiking at the sound of his desperate moans. You tightened your grip, your tongue swiping against the underside of his shaft. His hips bucked harder. With one last, deep suck, you felt him pulse in your mouth, the warmth of his release flooding your mouth.

Mat's body went rigid as he came, his breath hitching in his throat. You swallowed, your eyes never leaving his. You licked your lips, savoring the taste of him, and gave his cock one last gentle kiss before sitting back on your heels. You watched him, his chest heaving and eyes glazed over with pleasure.

For a moment, there was silence, broken only by your ragged breathing. Then Mat's face contorted into a mix of frustration and relief. "Fuck," he muttered, collapsing back onto the bed. "How bad was I?"

You grinned, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. "Oh, you were pretty bad," you teased, your voice light and playful. "Ethan texted me about it. Said you were being a little bitch."

Mat's face reddened as he buried his face in a pillow, muffling his groan of embarrassment. You couldn't help but laugh, your eyes sparkling with amusement. "It's okay," you said, your voice gentle. "You're my little bitch."

Mat threw the pillow at you, his laughter joining yours. "Fuck off," he said, his voice muffled by the fabric.

You caught the pillow and tossed it aside, your smile widening. "It's all love, baby," you said, leaning over to kiss his cheek. "But seriously, you okay?"

Mat took a deep breath and nodded. "Yeah, I'm good." He sat up, running a hand through his hair. "I just didn't know it would get to me like this."

Your expression softened, and you cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing over the stubble that had started to form. "No more dumb bets?" you asked, your voice a gentle reprimand.

Mat sighed, his eyes meeting yours with a hint of vulnerability. "No more dumb bets," he agreed, his voice gruff. He leaned into your touch, his eyes closing briefly. "I'm sorry for being such an asshole."

Your smile was warm, your thumb continuing to stroke his cheek. "You should probably apologize to Ethan. Whatever you did to him, it's gotta be bad if he's asking for my help."

Mat chuckled, his irritation fading. "I'll text him later, tell him you talked some sense into me." He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around your waist. "Thank you, baby." He kissed you, the affection in his touch making your heart flutter.

#&. cassie writes.#&. nnn masterlist.#mat barzal fic #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal angst #mat barzal #mathew barzal #mathew barzal fluff #mathew barzal x reader #mathew barzal smut #mathew barzal fic #mathew barzal imagine #x black reader #x black fem reader #black!fem!reader #black!reader

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mendeshoney · 1 year ago

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don’t tell me you’re my heartbreaker

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

Pairing: mat barzal x f!reader

Word Count: 10,251

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You could deal with that.

…Right?

You checked your watch again.

6:29 PM.

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

You really shouldn’t have done it.

Would it send him the wrong message?

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

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

If he showed up.

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

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

6:30 PM.

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

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

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

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

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

Your stomach twists.

Shit.

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

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

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

“Hi,” Mat breathes. “Sorry I’m late.”

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

Gorgeous fucker.

Stupidly beautiful.

Annoyingly perfect.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I want to give this another shot.”

You blink, partially stunned.

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

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

You hadn’t been expecting…this.

“You…what?” You stutter out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There was…definitely a lot to unpack there.

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

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

But that was…gone now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His whiskey on the rocks be damned.

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

You raised a brow in suspicion. “Okay?”

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

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

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

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

“Mat you don’t have to-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Almost.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That he didn’t risk losing you.

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

Now you were breaking his.

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

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

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

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

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

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

It's all my fault. He thinks miserably.

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

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

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

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

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

Idiot.

Fucking beautiful idiot.

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

And even that was taken away from you.

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

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

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

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

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

Please baby, please talk to me

Let me fix this baby

I need you to know how sorry I am

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

I need you

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

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

You weren’t sure you wanted this anymore.

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

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

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

And that was why this hurt so bad.

Because you felt it all anyway.

You fell together anyway.

You loved him anyway.

Love him anyway.

Fuck.

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

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

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

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

“It’s me.”

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

“Mathew?”

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

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

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

Definitely can’t open the door wearing that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shrug. “It’s okay.”

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

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

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

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

So you let him talk.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His heart cracks in his chest.

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

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

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

And he wasn’t going to start now.

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

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

You let out a shaky breath. “It’s-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Because you loved him.

He drove you batshit crazy, but you loved him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not yet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Breakfast?” You ask, playfully skeptic.

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

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

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

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

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

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abilouwrites · 1 year ago

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WHEN PUSH COMES TO SHOVE

Mat Barzal

I love writing angst and I haven’t done it in so long

“You pick her every time” I exclaim, throwing my hands in the air from my frustrations, “it will never be me! Will it? It won’t!”

“Would you just listen?” He asks, reaching for my hand and I pull away again, “fucking listen to me!” He shouts, “it is you, but you act so jealous all the god damn time”

“Me? Jealous? Well of fucking corse!” I groan, pacing around the living room, “you’re surrounded by these women who are obviously better than me and Sarah” her name comes out as a whisper against my breath. Like a word that can’t be spoken. A name that shouldn’t be said.

“Sarah? This is all about Sarah?” He doesn’t treat her name with the same weight I do.

“Yes! You didn’t come home until morning because you were busy with her! Not me. Her! You text her good morning not me! On Roadies and shit I feel like is her you talk to not me” I cry out, thick hot tears fall down my face. He reaches for me and I pull away again.

“What the hell does that even mean?” He asks, “you think I should just date her? Instead of you?”

“The way you act right now Mat? Yeah I think you should” I choke out, I don’t wait for his response

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” He asks, he doesn’t block my path but he tries to

“Im going to Nico’s” I respond dryly as I grab my overnight bag and stuff some clothes in quickly.

“You accuse me of cheating and then you go to Nico’s?” He retorts; scoffing a little

“Don’t start with this right now!” I shout out, “at least I haven’t been caught with him this fucking close to my face like we’re kissing!”

He sighs and I drop my ring by the key bowl, “I need to get out”

New Jersey isn’t much of a drive but I end up there in morning. “What’s wrong?” Nico asks as he lets me inside

“Mat. He I think he’s cheating on me and I asked him about it and he kept denying it and then he accused me of cheating on him with you” I hiccup out

“I told you he was an ass” Nico says as I flop onto his couch, “but I don’t know.. why would he go through the trouble of proposing then cheating on you?” He reasons

“I just…” I lay down, “why am I so insecure? Why does it always feel that he picks her?” I ask

“Because he does”

I sigh, and roll onto my back, “I want to keep loving him. I want to always love him. But each time I keep getting hurt”

“Maybe you’re not meant to be”

Another tear sheds, “don’t say that Nico”

“Ok” he sighs softly

I spend the weekend there and the door rings and I really don’t want to answer it, “mat” I whisper

“I’m sorry, don’t let this be the end of us. I fucked up and I’m sorry I cheated”

The words barely register in my brain, “so you did cheat”

“I did”

“Leave”

“Y/n”

“Wait-“

“Get the fuck out right now”

“She told you to leave mat”

“Stay out of this Hischier!”

“Get out of my house Barzal”

#hockey #nhl #nhl fanfiction #nhl blurb #mat barzal #mat barzal my beloved #mat barzal x reader #mathew barzal #nico hischer x reader #new jersey devils nico hischier x reader #nico hischier x y/n #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier imagine #mathew barzal imagine #angst #no happy ending #mat Barzal Angst

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ryeriy · 2 years ago

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Requested: no

Join my taglist

Champagne Problems - Mathew Barzal

Ib: "she would've made such a lovely bride, what a shame she's fucked in the head" -T.S

A/n: on the verge of making a pt. 2. Should I?

warnings: toxic family, swearing, angst with a slightly fluff ending

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

It's been ten months since me and Mathew broke up. We both thought it was for the better. Me and Mathew don't really talk much ever since we broke up, but it was for the better. With both of us being busy, it was just so chaotic.

I recently got invited to one of my best friends wedding. It so happens to be Mathews cousin Olivia. Me and Oliva have been friends before I met Mathew. It just happened to be that he was her cousin.

Olivia's family was going to be there. So I knew that Mathew and his family was going to be there. I wasn't going to let stop me from going to support my friend on her big day. Her parents loved me and had no problem with me. It was Mathews. They think I'm a monster for breaking up with him even though it was a mutual agreement.

I was going to try my best to push through it all for her. I'm not going to let something in the past effect me.

On the invitation it said I was more than welcomed to bring a plus one but I wasn't dating anyone and if I brought someone who wasn't Mathew it would cause so much drama. Olivia asked me if I wanted to be a bridesmaids but I told her no. It would just stir the pot and I wouldn't want her to deal with that stress.

Today was the day of her wedding. I had a nice elegant lavender dress. Wasn't too revealing. Just nice and cute for a wedding. I didn't have high hopes things were going to gosp smoothly. You know what they say, fake it till you make it.

Things started to sail smoothly before the wedding. I got their at the time she told me to be there. Three o'clock in the afternoon. My eyes immediately drawed to Mathew as soon as I walked in. Glaring at him before sitting on the grooms side. I didn't sit on the brides because I was already getting stares and hearing gossip about myself.

The ceremony was great. No drama caused a burst of anger from anyone. Now, it was time for the reception. It was just right next store in a gathering hall next to the chapel. Hopefully things don't go down hill.

I took my time getting out of the chapel. Making sure I didn't exit at the same time Mathew and his family did. I guess I was wrong because as I was leaving Mathew came up behind me.

"Why are you here?" He whispers to me as he walks next to me trying not to draw attention. Not even looking at me.

"Olivia asked me to be here. I've known her longer than I've known you Mathew. I came here to support my friend. I would appreciate if you and your mother would stop making horrendous comments about me ans just let Olivia enjoy her day." I told while walking away from him and entering the hallway leading into the gathering room where it was a bit dim.

Partying has started. For majority of the reception I was sitting down at my table. It was very awkward for me to be here but I did it for Olivia.

But when I did decide to go on the dance floor I heard Mathews family talking badly about me almost yelling it as if everyone needed to hear it. I just ignored it until I heard something I couldn't unhear. My name and slut should not be used in the same sentence.

I quickly went to go find Olivia to tell her I was going to leave. Trying not to cause a big scene.

"Aww but we haven't had cake yet!" She told me.

"I know Livvy. I'm sorry but I'm just feeling tired tonight." I was faking it so hard. I honestly felt bad for her.

"Well it's okay. Thank you for coming!" We exchanged in a hug before I went back over to my table. Grabbing my coat and purse and heading out.

As I walked out I went to the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. Wiping away my tears as some softly left me eyes. I sniffled before walking out.

Walking out of the bathroom on my way out to the parking lot, I wasn't expecting to see Mathew waiting there for me.

"What do you want? You've already ruined my night. What else could you possibly want from me!"I exclaimed at him in anger. More tears streaming down my face.

"I'm sorry about them. I told them to drop it but they wouldn't. I'm sorry (y/n). Sorry for everything."

"Bullshit! If you where sorry you would've never let this happen! You fucking talked shit about me to your entire family and now they hate me!" I am hurt by this. You can hear the pain in my voice.

"Just hug me." He held his arms out for me. I walked into his arms. Wrapping my arms around him. Feeling his arms around me, pulling me closer to him, gave me flashbacks.

Crying in his arms made me feel a bit better. No way I was going back in there but I just needed this.

"Thank you." I said while pulling away from him wiping the tears off of my face.

"I still love you." He says. The tone in his voice is soft.

"I know. I do too." I looked at him trying not cry again.

"Is this goodbye for now?"

"Yes. Goodbye Mathew."

"Goodbye (y/n)."

Walking past him and exiting the building. I looked back at him before I left. He let a tear race down himself face as I left. This was not goodbye for ever. Perhaps one day we'll meet again.

#nhl hockey #nhl x reader #ryeriy #nhl fanfiction #hockey #mathew barzal #mathew barzal x reader #sad angst

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luvmmarner · 2 years ago

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NEW YORK ISLANDERS

This is the list of only New York Islanders player's imagines/fics.

✶ = smut

♡ = fluff

✰ = angst

MATTHEW BARZAL (COMING SOON) BO HORVAT ➮ Packing up ♡

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itsnotgray · 1 year ago

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i think my heart is eternally broken after this

december // mb

warning; heartbreak. that’s it.

summary; after he’s left alone in an empty apartment with the weight of the world on his shoulders, mat comes to realize that december’s his least favorite month of the year. based on the song december by neck deep.

word count; 3.8k+

add yourself to my nhl taglist!

mat doesn’t know how long he’s been walking around the block. all he knows is that it’s hard to see, even harder to walk straight, and he can’t shake the itch he has to call you. he just needs one more time, just one final attempt at hearing your voice, even if it’s just your answering machine.

“hey, this is y/n! i’ll get back to you-” he hangs up then, decides that he doesn’t have the mental capacity to leave another message.

it’s only been two weeks, but mat feels like it’s been years since he’s seen you. his heartbreak is just as fresh as it was when you walked away from him, tears in his eyes and mind going through the motions of trying to put itself back together again. two weeks isn’t long enough to heal from the gaping hole you left in his heart. there’s not enough time in the world for mat to heal properly.

he comes to the realization that he’ll never be the same fairly quickly. he thought you were it for him. he thought that every obstacle would be tackled by the two of you together. he thought you’d be in this shit show called life together, for the long haul. he can’t say it’s not his fault, can’t say he tried as hard as he could. he took you for granted, and he knows that now, but now it’s too late.

Keep reading

#mathew barzal #mat barzal #hockey recs #fic recs #angst recs!!

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midnightsnyx · 3 months ago

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girl at home | mat barzal | part 11

pairing: mat barzal x reader

warning: alcohol and angst word count: 1288k (sorry)

authors note: i can't wait for nora to break everyone's heart in this chapter :) :) :) anyway im so sorry this is short and 100% a filler chapter but I need it to be able to write what will happen next. pls comment even if it’s constructive criticism because comments feed my writing soul 🩵 big big thanks to @justonemorewallflower for editing this!!

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The aftermath of her is interesting, to say the least. Training camp is creeping up and soon, Mat will have to return to New York. The two of you had a long but enlightening conversation shortly after his breakdown at your apartment. You had woken up the next morning to Nora’s foot digging into your kidney and Mat’s feet near your face but all the discomfort evaporated when the three of you made breakfast together.

For the first time since Mat found out about Nora, you didn’t have anxiety or dread hanging over your shoulders. You weren’t worrying about other people's opinions or how Mat is adjusting or crazy girlfriends. You’re finally able to focus on trying to figure out how exactly to make this work.

Mat on the other hand, is doing everything he can to try and make up for everything but he’s going a tad overboard.

“She does not need a kitten, Mathew,” you say firmly, refusing to look at his phone that has a picture of a kitten.

“C’mon, look at that cute little fluffy baby,” he says, trying to push the phone closer to you. “It’ll teach her responsibility!”

“She’s six,” you remind him, picking up a blanket off the couch and folding it. Mat’s been sleeping at your apartment but on the couch, much to Nora’s dismay. She assumes now that Mat isn’t dating anyone, you and Mat will get back together. The look of relief on her face when Mat told her Calista wasn’t going to be around anymore made you want to cry. You hadn’t truly understood just how much Mat’s toxic relationship was affecting Nora.

However, her insistence that you and Mat get married now is getting a bit out of hand.

“We should talk about it,” he says quietly, snapping you out of your thoughts.

He’s not talking about the kitten now. He’s referring to what kind of living situation you’re going to have come hockey season.

“Yeah,” you sigh, placing the final blanket on the pile and turning to face him. He looks unsure, eyes darting around the room and looking everywhere except at you.

It’s unusual to see him unsure about himself. The Mat you knew when you were young was confident and rarely doubted anything.

The past two months changed that, Nora changed it.

“I know you said that you don’t want to move-”

“Mat,”

“-but what if we just do weekends?”

You give him a dry look. “Weekends? You want me and Nora to fly to New York every weekend? What are we, Travis Kelce and Taylor Swift?”

“If you’d told me about her in the first place, this wouldn’t be an issue!” He snaps, and you flinch because he’s right. If you had listened to what everyone was telling you seven years ago, and told Mat about Nora, you wouldn’t be in this situation. You had your reasons though, and you’ll stand by them.

“You’re never going to forgive me for that, are you?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know how I can.”

. . .

Bringing up the news that Mat has to go back to New York soon does not go over well with Nora. You’ve seen her throw tantrums before, but this is next level. She locks herself in her bedroom and refuses to come out, demanding for grandma Nadia to come to your apartment, which is an easy fix. One phone call and she’s at the front door.

Nora opens her bedroom door when she hears Nadia’s voice, but still looks suspicious when she opens it enough for her to squeeze through. They’re in her room for about fifteen minutes before they both come out, Nadia looking exasperated but somber at the same time.

They stand in front of you and Mat, Nora staring at the floor and Nadia looking at the two of you.

“Nora would like to ask the New York Islanders owners to relocate to British Columbia,” she says, pressing her lips together. You can’t tell if she’s trying not to laugh or not to cry.

Mat kneels down so he’s at Nora’s height and hesitantly takes her hands in his. “We can definitely write them a letter peanut, but that’s a lot easier said than done.”

She’s looking at the ground still but you can see teardrops hitting the floor and your heart breaks even more, if possible.

“Why?” She sniffles and Mat gives you a desperate look. You’ve been a mom for six years, he hasn’t even been a dad for 2 months.

“Nora,” you say softly but firm enough that she looks up at you. “I explained how hockey works, remember?”

“Yeah,” she mumbles, sniffling. “But maybe if we explain, they’ll change it.”

You kneel down so you’re at her level and wipe her face. “They won’t, baby.”

She starts sobbing when you say that, throwing one arm around you and one around Mat. You keep yourself from breaking down but you can hear Nadia sniffing quietly and Mat’s shoulders are shaking.

All you wanted was for Nora to know Mat and his family but nothing has worked out the way you planned. You have no idea how it got to this point and you’re not sure if it’s going to be able to be fixed.

. . .

“What are you wishing for this year?” You asked Nora before she blew out the candles for her fifth birthday.

She tapped her chin a few times before grinning. “A daddy!”

Nobody else heard her and she was too distracted to see the heartbroken look on your face.

. . .

“Figure anything out yet?” Marlee asks, putting a glass of wine in front of you.

After taking a sip of your wine, you shake your head. “Nope. I can’t uproot Nora’s life, and Mat has to go back to New York.”

He’s been trying to spend as much time with her the past few days after her breakdown. They’re at the Barzal household tonight so you’re at Marlee’s, trying to forget for a while. You have no idea what to do and it’s killing you. Nora has been quiet and distant, and you don’t know what to read of that. Part of you wonders if she wants to move to New York with Mat, but deep down you know your daughter and if you just take her away from everybody and everything she knows, it won’t end well.

“I don’t know what to tell you,” Marlee says, being completely unhelpful. You know she can’t solve your problems but you thought she would at least have some advice.

“You got nothing?” You ask dryly.

She sighs, looking up at the ceiling before turning her gaze to you. “Look, moving to New York? Probably a bad idea, but is it worth trying? Maybe.”

You narrow your eyes at her. “How many glasses of wine have you had?”

“This is my first, thank you very much,” she sniffs.

“But you’re suggesting I move Nora to New York?” You ask incredulously. This is completely out of character for Marlee. She’s usually the one who thinks things through.

“A trial,” she says. “Try moving to New York with Mat. The worst that will happen is you and Nora coming home.”

Even though she’s saying this nonchalantly, she’s staring into her wine glass thoughtfully. You know she wouldn’t have suggested it if she hadn’t thought it through.

The idea of moving is daunting and you’re not sure if you will even be able to go through with it. She’s right though, you could do a trial before Nora starts school. See how life in New York with Mat would be. If it would work.

“You really think it could work?” You ask quietly.

“You won’t know until you try.”

tag list: @literatureluster @dasiysthings @fallinallincurls @diary-of-jj @heatherawoowoo @lovinbarzal

@whatthepuckisgoingon @teapartydreams @alilstressyandlotdepressy @keiva1000 @hischiershoe @bellstwd @alwaysclassyeagle @brrbrina @nonsensical-nonsence @love-like-woaah @swift-sos @barzygirl13 @ilyrafe @samanthasgone @mariamuses @feminieun @abeautifulcherryblossom @ya-pucking-nerd @bborra

if you wanna be added or taken off the list, let me know please! or if i missed you!!

#allies writing #hockey imagines #nhl fanfiction #hockey fanfiction #nhl imagines #hockey imagine #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #mathew barzal x reader

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hugshughes · 11 months ago

Text

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 - 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐍 𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐒

𝐙𝐄𝐑𝐎 - 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐧 𝐇𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐱!𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐰 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐳𝐚𝐥 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 - 𝐘/𝐧 𝐘/𝐥/𝐧'𝐬 𝐕𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐨.

𝐰𝐜 - 600 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐘/𝐧 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭! 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐲!

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 - 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐢 𝐠𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐘!!!!!, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞!𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐰 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐳𝐚𝐥, 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐩, 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐢 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞(?)

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐢 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐰𝐧/𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜! 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬!

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐭. 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰!

Social Media!

thevogue.com/artists/yn-yln/#bio

Artists / Y/n Y/l/n

Pop Female Vocalist Indie Folk Post-teen Pop Singer-songwriter

Published December 2nd, 2023. 11:29AM PST

Y/n Y/m/n Y/l/n (born January 11, 2001, in Annapolis, Maryland) is an American singer-songwriter. Y/l/n is a 3-time Grammy winner with a total of 11 nominations (as of October, 2023). As of October, 2023, Y/l/n has sold 26 million albums and 88 million singles worldwide.

Y/n Y/l/n is a internationally praised pop-indie phenomena. She quickly rose to fame at only 17 when she released her debut album Pause (February 19, 2018). Pause sold over a million copies in less than 48 hours, soaring to the top of the Billboard Hot 100 chart. 8 of Y/n's songs took place on the top ten and it took 41 weeks for Y/n's songs to exit the top 10. Pause racked up 3 Platinum singles, including Blouse, Innocent, and Bags.

Y/n Y/l/n's fame somehow skyrocketed higher when she released her second album Chaser (January 19th, 2020). The album features mostly love songs, rumored to be about her then boyfriend, NHL player Mathew Barzal. The album featured best sellers such as Cruel Simmer, Habits, and Happiness is a Butterfly.

As we stay on the topic of her ex boyfriend, she has been stuck in one scandal regarding her love life. In September of 2021, 20 months after releasing Chaser, there were paparazzi videos released of the IT couple in a shouting match on the street outside of popular restaurant, BOA Steakhouse, in Los Angeles, California. Video depicted Y/l/n crying as she fought with the hockey player, who was caught insulting Y/n very explicitly. The video ends with Barzal storming back into BOA Steakhouse, and Y/l/n sitting on the curb, awaiting her ride after the NHL star shouted, "Get a f***ing Uber back if you're going to be a b***h and embarrass me like this!" Bystanders watch as Y/l/n entered long time friend Tate McRae's car.

Less than a week later Y/n confirmed the end of the three year long relationship, with no further comments. While there have been no albums released since Chaser, in January 2020. Y/l/n has released two singles, Memories, and The Cut That Always Bleeds, both released in the summer of 2022.

As of now, December 2023, there has yet to be any major news of new music, but there's always the tiny bits and rumors that get down to the public. While Y/n has promised an album in 2024, she has yet to set a release, causing fans to believe it will come in the later months of the new year.

All in all, Y/n Y/l/n is a talented, young superstar. She captivates audiences like few can, and with the way her career is going now, could be one of the biggest star the world's ever seen. Most recently, Y/n was spotted in a cozy Baltimore suburb alongside Taylor Swift, who Y/n has repeatedly mentioned as her biggest influence when it comes to music, as well as her biggest fan. Swift seemed to take Y/n under her wing in 2019, even having Y/n open a stretch of her shows at The Eras Tour, in 2023, as well as the US shows in late 2024!

There are obviously large things in store for this young influential woman, and I can't help but applaud all of her hard work and dedication to her work.

Similar Artists

Taylor Swift

Gracie Abrahams

Conan Gray

Billie Eilish

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chukys-mouthguard · 7 months ago

Note

#17 Angsty with Mat Barzal

Prompt: “It’s like…you have this power over me, and I-I guess I’m wary of where it might lead.”

Note: writing angst for mat always has me picturing him just being the absolute cockiest asshole on the planet but i love it so much 🫠

“Mat you act like we haven’t been doing this shit for months now! I get wanting to keep some things private for yourself, but it’s like you're ashamed of me or something!”

He sat with his head in his hands as you paced the floor of his apartment. The two of you having just gotten home from an Islanders home game. Though having to drive separate because Mat and you weren’t together, and you couldn’t be seen with one another.

“It’s not that y/n! You know it’s not anything like that!”

He spat back at you before standing up himself, making his way to the kitchen and grabbing a beer from the fridge.

“Then what is it? If you’re just looking for a hook up type situation, then I’ll walk out that door right now because I told you from day one that isn’t at all what I wanted. If you’re not interested in me anymore, then fine. But don’t sit here and lie to me when it’s obvious something is going on. You won’t be seen with me. I can’t wear your jersey number, I can’t meet any of the guys or their girlfriends. I’m your secret or something, and I don’t understand why!”

Mat sighed as he saw the tears in your eyes, hating to see you so upset, but he knew this was best. Keeping your relationship like it was. It was better this way, less complicated.

“It’s like…you have this power over me, and I-I guess I’m wary of where it might lead.”

He sipped his beer as you shook your head.

“What the fuck does that even mean? Wary of where it might lead? It’s been eight months at this point Mat, not quite sure where else we are headed.”

He knew he should’ve never let things go on as long as they had, but like he said, you had this power over him. He couldn’t commit to you. But he also couldn’t let you go. Despite how much he cared about you and liked you, he knew this couldn’t be anything more. Not now.

“I can’t put a label on this or introduce you to everyone because god forbid this goes south, I can’t go through that. I need to be focused on my game right now, the second I start introducing you to people and the things that come with that, it’s going to be too much pressure. I don’t want to deal with any of that right now, that’s why I like things where they are at. I get it, it’s been months, you want more. You need more. But I can’t give that right now, and I won’t give you that. I know what I want, and that’s not a label. I don’t need a girlfriend, nor do I want one.”

His words cut through you like a knife. The man you’d fallen for turning out to be nothing you ever thought he was. Wiping the tears from your cheeks, you did your best to suck up your emotions. Mat not deserving another one of your tears.

“So, what was the point? You were just keeping me around for fun? For company? To waste my time when you knew what I wanted?”

Mat simply shrugging as he brought his beer back to his lips for another sip. “I care about you, so fucking much. And I told you, you have this power over me where I can’t just walk away and let you go. I, I want to think it will get better. That things will change. But I’m also not going to give in and change things thinking that we are headed that way. So yeah, maybe I’m being selfish for keeping you around rather than ending this knowing it’s not what you want. But, I still want you here. I still want this with you. As long as you can accept where I stand. If you can’t, then that’s fine too.”

You scoffed as you grabbed your keys, “That’s fine too? You know what….you’re right, I do have power over you. And I’m taking that power to walk away from what a piece of shit you are. Go fuck yourself Mathew Barzal.”

#nhl imagine #nhl fics #nhl fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey imagine #nhl blurb #mat barzal fic #mat barzal blurb #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal angst #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal

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v6quewrlds · 2 months ago

Note

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.

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