#New york islanders imagine

[prettytoxicrevolver]

August | Mathew Barzal

wc. 2.7k

"August slipped away into a moment in time, cause it was never mine. "

You had always kept an eye on Mat Barzal’s budding career. 

Growing up with the up and coming hockey player you always knew Mat as the dorky kid in your Algebra class. However, when he was drafted by the New York Islanders in 2015, you couldn’t help the glances towards his career every now and then. Everyone saw him as a hometown super star and you weren’t immune to the affects of celebrities unfortunately. 

You had stayed in your hometown, wanting to help out your parents as they started getting older and you found a teaching job not too far away too. It was the perfect balance and you were happy with your summers off and free time. You subconsciously knew the hockey season had ended in the middle of April overall and when the Islanders were knocked out of playoffs at the end of the month, your mind had wandered to Mat once more, and you couldn’t help the casual google search. 

When you discovered that he had plans to come home from the summer you were intrigued. Why come back to your hometown after traveling all over the United States and having more than enough money to travel all over the world? Of course, you wouldn’t find the answer to that until later. 

You didn’t expect to see Mat around your hometown. It was small but not small enough for you to run into a boy you hadn’t seen in years. You didn’t even expect for him to recognize you and yet you still did it anyway. 

You were driving to the beach, wanting a break from everything and to just sit with the wind blowing through your hair and your book in your hands. It had to be close to midnight and your habit of not being able to sleep was creeping up on you again. You didn’t expect to see anyone else on the road at this point but you could recognize him a million miles away. 

You��re still not sure what prompted it, but you found yourself slowing down on the road. 

“Mat?” you called and watched as he paused in his step and you laid on the breaks in your car till you were at a full stop. 

You watch with curious eyes as Mat walks towards your car before leaning over and peering into your passenger side. When he spots you, a look of recognition and then slight shock washes over him. 

You can’t help the light laugh that washes over you at his shock, a reaction to the absurdness of the Mat Barzal being in your hometown. 

“Oh my god,” you let out quietly and Mat tilts his head at the words. “Get in.” 

You gesture for Mat to hop in your car and you’re surprised even by your own actions. Mat takes it in stride though, climbing into your best up old car and clicking his seatbelt like this whole interaction was completely normal. 

“Let’s drive,” he finally responds and you step on the gas. It’s quiet for a moment as you drive and eventually you turn to look at him. 

“How have you been?” you ask, the question feeling odd but a glance at Mat shows him nodding in response. 

Your original route towards the beach is paused opting to just drive around your small town as you and Mat catch up. You tell him about what you’ve been doing since high school, how college was and how your job now is. He tells you all about the NHL and training and how lucky he has been to play professionally. 

“I’ve kept track of your career,” you mention as nonchalantly as you can afford. 

“Really?” Mat says and he can’t help the jolt of happiness that hits him at your words. 

“Vaguely. You’re supposed to have a 50 goal season this year or something?” you say but there’s a note of teasing in your voice. 

“Something like that,” he grins back at you and that smile has your heart zapped. 

“Shit I’m almost out of gas,” you curse quietly. 

You look over to Mat who offers an almost imperceptible shrug and you nod slightly. You start to head in the direction of your apartment, realizing that it’s almost 2 in the morning. You didn’t even feel the tiredness in your body just yet. 

When you get to your apartment, you tell Mat to keep quiet since your roommate was definitely asleep already. You both sneak in, collapsing onto your bed as Mat shuts the door behind him. He relaxes next to you, continuing the conversation you started in the car. 

Your eyes trail his features as he talks and you’re suddenly struck at how beautiful the man in front of you was. He was damn near a Greek god, chiseled features, bright brown eyes, flowy hair that falls over his eyebrows occasionally. He could have been a model if he wasn’t a hockey player. 

“Can I tell you a secret?” you blurt out, feeling all of 16 again staring at him. 

Mat nods in response and you take a deep breath, leaning closer as your eyes flicker from his to his lips. You try not to over think this, reminding yourself of the unspoken tension surrounding the two of you ever since he got into your car. 

When your lips ghost over his you can’t help the exciting pound of your heartbeat that only goes crazier when Mat pushes forward, truly connecting your lips. Your hand tangle in his hair as he carefully maneuvers you onto your back. His knee is pressed between your legs and his presence is so overwhelming you feel like you can’t breathe. 

He pulls back, granting you much needed air and after placing a few kisses on your exposed neck, he looks you in the eyes again. 

“Are you sure?” he asks breathlessly and you flush under his intense gaze. 

“I’ve never,” you trail off, the implication of your silence saying everything else. Your inexperience rolling off you in waves that Mat takes in strides. 

“But yes,” you tell him nodding and he smiles and meets your lips once more. 

The next morning you’re awoken by movement and a feeling of confusion takes over until you see Mat laying next to you and your cheeks flush at the memories of last night. As your eyes gaze over his features, you’re hit with the question what now? You had never done anything like that before and you gave it to a boy you went to school with and connected again with after one night? What were you thinking? 

Before you can spiral any further, Mat wakes up turning to see you and there’s an unreadable look in his eyes. 

“Good morning,” you whisper and Mat smiles lightly. 

“Morning,” his voice is rough from sleepy and the scratch in his tone sends a shockwave through you. 

“What time is it?” He asks, now sitting up and reaching for his phone. When he checks it, his expression changes quickly to one of frustration. 

“Ah fuck,” he curses and you tilt your head in his direction, a form of a question towards him. 

“I’m supposed to meet my friend for lunch soon,” he explains and you nod. 

Mat gets up and quickly dresses, running his fingers through his hair in a nervous manner before turning to look at you. Before you can process it, he’s pressing a kiss to your lips and whispering a promise that he’ll call you later tonight. 

When your bedroom door clicks shut, it finally occurs to you what happened last night. You slept with someone for the first time ever. Not just anyone either. Mathew Barzal. 

Your mind starts to scramble and before you have a chance to let your anxiety ruin the whole thing, you reach for your phone. You need to call Gianna. 

Gianna was your best friend ever since middle school. Well, at least you thought she was your best friend, but deep down you knew she preferred her friendship with Inez, a girl who lived in New York that you forget about half the time anyway. 

“Why are you calling me before noon?” she asks when the line finally connects. 

“So I met a guy,” you start, unsure of how to segue into one of the biggest moments of your life. 

“Ooh! This has to be good if you’re calling early.” 

“I slept with him last night,” you blurt out suddenly. 

“You what?” 

You explain the whole situation to her, omitting his name, and more so who he was until the end. When you tell her that he just left and promised to call you tonight, you listen intently as she sighs quietly. 

“Gianna?” 

“Yeah?” she asks, still not offering a full reaction. 

“It was Mat Barzal.” 

The bomb drop leaves the two of you in an awkward silence for more than twenty seconds, each one painfully ticking by and making you flinch inwardly. Gianna knew Mat a bit better than you, the two of them were both on sports teams and their friend circles constantly overlapped. You and Gianna however, had become friends in choir class. 

“I heard he was back for the summer,” is all she says in response and your heart clenches at her uncaring tone. 

“G? I really fucking like him and I’m happy,” you tell her, hoping this admission of feelings pulls more of a reaction out. 

“He’s only here for the summer.” 

“It’s different,” you demand, knowing the underlying meaning in her words. “Last night was amazing.” 

You drown out her response, anger clouding your judgment that Gianna couldn’t be happy for you. You had just slept with a guy for the first time and all she can do is imply he doesn’t care about you? That he’ll go home and everything won’t matter anymore? You hang up shortly after, still slightly fuming that your supposed best friend wasn’t being supportive. 

You knew. 

You knew though deep down, no matter the words you spat at Gianna or the delusional thoughts in your head. You knew you and Mat were going to be nothing after this summer. You just really didn’t want to believe it. 

known there was another girl back in New York. You should have known that she was the one he really wanted. The one he’d give it all for. He was never yours. 

Sometimes you really wished you listened to that doubting voice in your head. 

Maybe this wouldn’t hurt so fucking bad now if you did. 

Mat calls that night, tells you about his day and asks about yours. You make plans to go to the beach tomorrow. Your heart feels lighter when you go to sleep that night. By the time morning arrives, you’ve forgotten all your worries already. 

The knock on your door has an unconscious smile creeping up onto your lips and you jog downstairs and swing it open to see Mat. 

He’s leaning against the door frame, soft smile on his lips, arms crossed over a plain t-shirt and a blue open button down. His legs are crossed in a manner that is so effortless you wonder if he’s even a real human. 

“Ready to go?” 

You nod and he pulls you close, slipping an arm around your shoulder as you walk over to his car. Mat drives to the beach, hand on your thigh and an easy smile on his lips. Your heart raced twice as fast whenever he touched you and you couldn’t help but think you’re in love. 

You get to the beach pretty fast, the two of you finding a place to set up and relax for the day. Mat had been in and out of the water while you had relaxed back in your beach chair and read to your heart's content. You couldn’t think of a better day than the one in front of you. 

Mat flops down onto the beach towel next to you, a bright smile lighting up his perfect features. You gaze at him and he throws a wink in your direction and it feels like your body is lit on fire even just by the thought of him staring at you. 

He lays on his stomach, his head rest on his crossed arms and you find yourself dropping a hand to his back and tracing patterns on his bare skin. You’re tracing your name and then his when you finally break the silence. 

“When are you going back?” 

“Couple of weeks,” he answers noncommittally. 

“Do you think-“ you start to say and just when you’re about to push away the rest of the sentence Mat looks at you expectantly. “Will you call when you get back to New York? Keep in touch?” 

Something flickers in Mats eyes at your question, you’re not sure if it’s sadness or frustration or guilt or what. It seems to pass quickly though, a smile plastered on that doesn’t quite reach his eyes is thrown in your direction as he nods. 

“Of course.” 

You end up in Mats bed that night, twisted in bed sheets, laughs soaring in the air and good feelings wrapping you up so tightly you could almost choke on them. By the end of the night you fall asleep with a smile on your lips and Mat’s arms wrapped around you tight. 

The weeks slipped away from you, warm summer months slipping through your fingers until August arrived. Mat was due back to New York any week now and you found yourself begging for his attention. You dropped anything and everything when he called, something Gianna was getting angry about. 

“Hello?” you answer, looking over at Gianna who gives you an annoyed glance. 

“What are you doing right now?” Mat’s voice greets you and you can’t help the smile that slides on your lips at his voice. 

“Not much. Why?” 

“Meet me behind the mall in 20 minutes?” 

“I’ll be there,” you say, a giddy feeling rising in your chest. 

When you hang up, you stand up searching for your shoes, completely forgetting that Gianna was sitting in front of you. 

“Earth to (y/n)?” she asks and you look over with an awkward smile. 

“So that was Mat,” you start and Gianna huffs in frustration as she stands. 

“So you’re canceling plans again?”

“I only have so much time left with him,” you respond, tugging on one of your sneakers. 

“Of course,” she mutters, anger filling the room. 

“What?” you snap, frustrated that Gianna was still giving you shit for going out with Mat. 

“You’re leaving your best friend for some guy who will leave you in a week?” 

“I’m not-“ you start to retort but she cuts you off. 

“He has a fucking girlfriend in New York!! You’re the other woman!” 

The words are a complete and utter blow. The reality hits you full force and forces you to face the thing you never wanted to. That Gianna was right. That this summer was all you were to Mat. A distant memory. More likely, a mistake he made. 

“Whatever,” you mutter, left with nothing but the last word as you storm out of her apartment. 

You meet Mat behind the mall and he’s quick to hop into your car and press a kiss to your cheek. Your previous argument with Gianna is already fading to the back of your mind. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask Mat when you’re sitting next to him on the beach, the sun setting quietly against the crashing waves. 

“I’m going back to New York tomorrow,” he tells you quietly and the shock is plain on your face. 

“They called me to come back early,” he explains and all you can do is nod slowly at the news. 

“Will you stay until the sun sets?” you ask, the words wavering in your throat. 

“Of course,” Mat tells you but the words sound hollow like he’s already thousands of miles away and in a whole different life again. 

Mat had appeared in your small town like a reoccurring dream, lost memory, and perfect fantasy wrapped up in a six foot tall, brown haired, bright eyed hockey player. For a while you questioned so often if he was even real or not. 

And during that time you let yourself be delusional. Let yourself believe all the times he promised he would call when he got back to New York. That the two of you would stay in touch but as you sat on your bed a week later and no calls from Mat you knew what this was all along. 

And it still hurt just as bad. 

[senditcolton]

hits different

do you think i have forgotten... about you?

series masterlist | playlist | word count: 9.3k a/n: here it is! the finale of the "we're a bad idea" series. it's crazy to think that this series started on a complete whim and turned into this. i had so much fun writing this for you all and screaming about it with you and... gosh, just, thank you for all your support! I hope you all love this conclusion as much as I do. warnings: feminine reader, teammate's sister, age gap. smut! heavy handsy make out, oral (f receiving), protected penetrative sex. Disclaimer: Reading/creating content for married players isn’t for everyone. Please don’t read if you don’t vibe with it, but don’t attack me or others!

It felt like something out of a goddamn movie.

The way your eyes locked onto each other the very moment you settled next to Shannon at the altar. How the scent of the flowers that Emily had chosen for your bouquet suddenly became overwhelming. The feeling of heat that rushed through you – a heat that had nothing to do with the warm July afternoon and everything to do with the blue eyes that had captured you under their gaze.

Not the mention the film reel flashback that replayed in your head of those months when you allowed him into your bed and into your heart. And how he broke you into a million pieces and sent you running to Los Angeles to escape his hold on you.

Almost two years and three-thousand miles between you and him. You thought that would be enough.

But, even after all of that, it seems that you still couldn’t forget Matt Martin.

And based on the beating echoing through your ribcage, it was obvious that your wretched heart failed to remember how much it hurt whenever he was around.

The string music dancing on the breeze lifts to a crescendo and you almost scoff at the irony; like the universe itself was trying to arrange a reunion worthy of an Oscar-winning romance. Then you heart stutters when you see Matt lift from his seat, his eyes still locked on your frame and you fear that a love confession was about to fall from his lips.

Thankfully, that doesn’t happen. Instead, he turns from you, directing his gaze down the aisle.

The embarrassment rushes through your body and you have to shake your head at your dramatics; at the way you made yourself the main character in a moment that was anything but yours.

This was Scotty and Emily’s moment – their wedding, for Christs sake. Your eyes divert to the end of the aisle, watching as your soon to be sister-in-law walk to your brother, her stunning white dress flowing behind her. You sneak a glance at Scotty, watching his eyes water as Emily takes those final steps towards him. This was the reason you were here. Not Matt Martin.

Somehow, you manage to make it through the entire ceremony without looking out to the audience and those ocean blue eyes. When you walk back up the aisle for the recessional, your arm linked in Sebastian’s, your gaze locks with Matt’s once again before he disappears from your sight.

It’s a moment of reprieve as you sneak back into the cabin where you and the rest of the bridesmaids had spent the night, a deep breath lifting your chest.

You should’ve known he would be here. He was your brother’s teammate, a fact that you were all too aware of when this tryst began. Still, you hoped you wouldn’t have to face him. Not because you hated him or because you had moved on. But because there was still a part of you that craved him, that couldn’t let him go.

There was an ache in you and it felt like only he could heal it.

How? The answer to that question was still uncertain. You didn’t know if you needed him to apologize, or give you closure, or tell you everything you’ve always wanted him say. But you weren’t ready for it, whatever it was.

And when you walk into the reception area where the guests waited, your heart proves how unprepared you were based its reaction when your eyes find Matt. And the gymnastic routine it does when you realize that he was seated at your table, only a few spaces away from you.

Dinner is excruciating. It feels like a choreographed routine as you stop your head from drifting too far to the right to look in Matt’s direction, pretending that you don’t feel the weight of his stare, laser-focused on the toasts and your brother’s first dance. And when the dance floor opens and the mingling begins, the reason you fly from your chair was to greet other guests, performing your duty as a bridesmaid.

Not because you were desperate to delay the inevitable conversation you knew you had to have with the one man you had been avoiding.

Blissfully, a familiar voice calls to you from across the space and your eyes lock onto Mat Barzal, frantically waving at you from one of the other tables. You smile, walking over to him as he rises from his chair and hugs you, your name falling from his lips with that bright cheerfulness that you heard so frequently over Facetime calls and nights out in LA when the Islanders came to California.

“How are you doing, Barzy?” you ask, pulling away from the hug.

“Pretty good,” he replies, his hand falling to the shoulder of the pretty brunette occupying the seat next to him. “Have I introduced you to Lyla yet?”

“Well, you’ve talked about her enough that I feel like I’ve met her before,” you laugh as you steal Mat’s seat from him, holding out your hand before formally introducing yourself. “Good to officially meet the girl that stole this idiot’s heart.”

“Nice to finally meet you too,” Lyla says, taking your hand in hers. “Although, I will be honest, when I first saw your name on Mat’s phone and how many Facetime calls the two of you shared, I was a little concerned. Thought you were a long-distance girlfriend or something.”

“Completely understandable,” you laugh, admiring her candor. “But there’s nothing to worry about. He’s a little too sweet for me.”

“I’m standing right here,” Mat huffs and you look up at him with a smirk.

“It’s nothing you haven’t heard before.”

Your relationship with Mat Barzal was the one thing that had shifted in the years you were away but it definitely changed for the better. He had turned from a potential romantic partner to a true friend. That shift – one that was brought on after a night of too many French Blonde cocktails – lifted a weight off both of your shoulders and opened the door for an even deeper connection with star winger.

“I hear that I have you to thank for him asking me on a date,” Lyla says.

“I did nothing but push Mat to ask for the number of the pretty girl at the gym that he spent almost a half-an-hour raving about,” you laugh, loving the way both Lyla and Mat’s cheeks flushed. “You had him whipped before he even knew your name.”

“Oh, trust me, I figured that out eventually,” Lyla jokes and you can’t help but scoot in, ready to hear all the embarrassing stories that Lyla was willing to share. And share she did. It seems like hours of laughter and conversation, Mat even dragging a chair over and joining in – although most of his comments are attempts to defend himself. Eventually, Lyla gets up to run to the ladies room, departing with a kiss on Mat’s cheek and you can’t stop the smile that appears when Mat’s eyes stay glued to her as she walks away.

“I like her,” you say, calling his attention back to you. “She’s way too good for the likes of you.”

“Oh, I know,” he laughs, taking your jest in stride before sipping his beer. You see his hazel eyes bounce across the room, pausing momentarily before they return to you. “Have you talked to him yet?”

A sigh rushes through you as you shake your head.

“I still can’t believe I told you about him.”

“You told me like… eight months ago. Besides, you can only blame yourself.”

“Hey, I can also blame copious amounts of alcohol.”

“Yeah, alcohol that loosened your tongue and sent his name falling out of your mouth,” Mat quips, his eyebrow raising. “Along with your dinner.”

“Please don’t remind me,” you say, your mind jumping back to the night in question.

It was November, when the Islanders played Los Angeles. You and Mat met up at a local bar – just the two of you and it was that night that your relationship changed completely. Because in your inebriated state, Matt Martin’s name slurred from your lips while Barzy was attempting to shove you into an Uber.

Despite facing the wrath of his coaches, Mat helped you back to your apartment and kept you company that night, his reasoning being that he wanted to make sure you were alright and a California road trip allowing him the time to do so. It was over greasy eggs and bacon that he asked why you said Marty’s name. And you told him.

You even told him about the night of the charity gala, emphasizing that you never meant to use him like that. And that the reason why you never took him up on his offer to be more than friends was because you didn’t want to use him more, keep giving him false hope.

The truth stung him for a few days but after giving him the time and space he needed, the honesty and clarity brought the two of you closer. Now, he was the only person in your life that knew the whole story of why you left Long Island. And, like the good friend he was, he kept your secret all that time.

“You know you’re going to have to speak to him at some point,” Mat prods.

“I know,” you quip, playfully rolling your eyes. “Doesn’t mean I can’t avoid him for a few more minutes.”

“You’ve been avoiding him for almost two years. Don’t know if a few minutes is going to help.”

“When did you get so wise?”

“You can thank Lyla for that,” he smiles and you watch his whole expression soften at the mere sound of her name.

“She makes you happy.”

The sentence is more statement than question. You were there on the other end of the line when he talked about the first time he saw her. You gave him pep-talks and advice on how to ask her out. You helped him plan dates and dinners. It was obvious that this girl was something special to him.

“Happier than I’ve been in a while.”

“Then why are you still sitting here talking to me?” you say. “Dance at a wedding with your girlfriend.”

“Alright, I will,” Mat laughs, standing. He doesn’t depart immediately, choosing instead to lean over to you with a serious look in hie eye. “But you have to promise me you’ll talk to Marty.”

Another sigh escapes you as you let your head turn to look at the reception hall, your eyes glancing off the crowd of guests before landing on Matt, leaning against the wall, talking to Cal and his wife. As if he can feel your eyes on him, his gaze drifts to you and you watch a myriad of emotions dance on his face, each so subtle and fleeting that you couldn’t even begin to decipher what he was thinking.

“He’s been asking about you, you know,” Mat’s voice sounds, pulling your attention back to him.

“He has?”

“Yeah. Asking me, Scotty, Emily, anyone really. How you’re doing, what you’re doing.”

“What have you told him?”

“Just surface level stuff: your job, your complaints about the weather and LA traffic, things like that. It seems like he wants to talk to you,” Mat says. “So, you should talk to him. If nothing else, you might at least get some closure.”

You exhale, you mid swirling with the information that Matt Martin was still thinking about you, maybe in the same way you were thinking about him. Your head was a mess of doubts and hopes and fears and longing and desires. You just breathe through it all, pulling Mat into another hug which he reciprocates.

“You’re a really good friend, you know that right?” you ask, your voice muffled by his tuxedo.

“So I’ve been told by this really cool Los Angeles girl who overthinks everything.”

You laugh as you let your arms fall, Mat shooting you that crooked smile before he is walking away. You see him intercept Lyla as she re-enters the reception area, taking her arm in his and pulling her to the dancefloor, the smile on her face brightening as Mat leans in and kisses her cheek.

There was a part of you that twinged at the sight. You knew it was jealousy – not the traditional jealousy but a different form. You weren’t angry that Mat found joy with someone that wasn’t you, but envious that he found someone, period.

Especially since you were unable to move on from the man you shared a scandalous but exhilarating few months with. The man you promised yourself you would forget.

But then you hear his voice sound from behind you and feel that exquisite ache that you had never been able to soothe throb in the center of your chest.

“Hey.”

You turn to see him standing behind you, his suit looking almost too perfect for his body, his hair tousled and falling over his forehead. You watch as his blue eyes rove over your face and you wonder what he’s thinking and if all the same emotions are flooding his system the way they were yours.

“Hi,” you whisper, cursing your voice for coming out sounding so timid, cursing yourself for still allowing Matt Martin to make you feel small. But instead of that cool smirk that used to always appear at the sound of your frailty, his face remains impassive, his eyes flicking down to the now vacant seat next to you.

“Could I sit?” he asks and your head spins, not only because of the gentleness of the question but the fact that he even asked at all. The Matt Martin you used to know would’ve sat down immediately, invading your space boldly and brazenly for no other reason than to get a rise out of you.

You nod, watching him settle down into the cushioned seat and take a sip from his whiskey glass, his eyes still on you. It takes an immense amount of effort to break your gaze as you reach for your own wine and letting the smooth oaked flavor dance over your tongue.

“How have you been?” Matt breaks the silence again and you know you hear a hesitance in his voice, like he is unsure if he should even be addressing you.

“I’ve been alright,” you reply, your own voice thick with trepidation. “You?”

“It’s been decent.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, and his eyebrows quirk up in curiosity at your words. “For your injury. The playoffs,” you elaborate. Your gaze stays locked on him, trying to understand the micro-expressions that pass over his face.

“Thank you,” he replies and you just nod, taking another sip of your wine. “Didn’t know if you were even watching.”

“Wanted to support my brother.”

“Right,” he sighs. “Of course.”

You hated this. Hated the weight that hung over the two of you like a lead curtain, making anything beyond small talk too difficult to say. You weren’t sure how to surmount this obstacle, not sure if it was even possible to overcome. But someone had to be brave and attempt that first step.

With a deep breath and another sip of liquid courage, you turn you attention back to Matt.

“Was there… something you wanted to ask me?” you question, the words as stilted and unclear as the intention behind them.

Matt looks at you, his blue eyes wide as he absorbs your words. It is a moment of stillness before he is finishing off his whiskey and setting the glass on the table, lifting himself out of his chair. Your heart flips in fear that you said the wrong thing, that you ruined the moment before it could even take shape but that concern is silenced when Matt stands in front of you, holding out his hand, his palm upturned.

“Dance with me?”

Of all the questions that you thought Matt Martin would confront you with, this was one that you were not prepared for. A sentiment that is echoed by a bewildered ‘what?’ falling from your lips.

“Will you dance with me?” Matt reiterates, the request turning into a genuine question. Would you let him take you out onto the dance floor and into his arms again?

Your eyes rove from his face to his hand, still outstretched. The hesitance lingers in you reflected by the way you lift your own hand, your fingers curling back in a moment of uncertainty before you allow them to touch his. They glide against his calloused skin, wrapping around his palm, his own fingers winding around your hand.

Another glance up at him shows you the slightest smile playing at his lips. But it isn’t twinged with the familiar undercurrent of cruelty or power. Instead, it looks like relief.

He gently tugs you upright before leading you to the dancefloor, the refrain of a slow melody encompassing you moments before Matt’s arms do the same. He adjusts the grip on your hand while the other finds a respectful place on the small of your back. You let your own free hand lift and rest delicately on his bicep as the two of you begin to sway.

The silence between you remains even as the music rises and falls. You still avoid looking in Matt’s eyes, content to stare at the hardwood floor even though you can feel the weight of his gaze. In the back of your mind, you knew that if your eyes locked with his, you wouldn’t be able to keep your composure.  That possibility was to be avoided at all costs. You couldn’t let Matt Martin regain the control over you that he used to have.

“You look beautiful.”

Those three muttered words, the compassion behind them, makes your resolve crumble, your eyes darting up to meet with his.

“Thank you,” you say, your voice breathless – the exact opposite of the curtness you wanted your tone to convey. But perhaps it wasn’t your choice to soften your words. Maybe it was subconscious, based on the way that Matt held you, the way he spoke to you, the way he looked at you. It felt different.

He was different.

“I missed you,” he whispers; the first real confession of the night.

“Matt,” you sigh, the cynic jumping out to protect your heart – the one that he shattered.

“I know,” he says. “I know what you’re going to say.”

“How can you?” you challenge him, the small flame of anger that you held flickering in your chest.

“You’re right. I have no idea what you were about to say. But I can make a guess.”

His words extinguish that resentment as soon as it appears, your eyebrow raising in surprise – not only towards his words but in his concession to you, he deference of power, the pendulum swinging in your favor. Your silence allows him to continue.

“I know I haven’t given you any reason to trust me,” he begins. “For you to believe anything I say is the truth. But I guess… I’m just wondering if you would give me a chance. Let me prove it to you.”

“Prove what to me?”

“How much I missed you. How much I care about you.”

He pulls your closer to him and you allow it. You let him hold you tighter until your chests press together, the smell of his all too familiar cologne flooding your senses. You swear you forget how to breathe when you feel his hand trace up your arm before resting against your jawline. The gentle press of his fingers guides you to look up at him, his thumb caressing your cheek.

“Let me prove that I was an idiot for ever letting you go.”

You can feel the tears prick the corner of your eyes and you know Matt can see them, watching as they well up on your lower lashes. His words seemed so sweet, so genuine, and you so desperately wanted to believe them. But there was still that voice in the back of your mind screaming, ‘this is what he does; he’s an expert at speaking these saccharine words but you know they’re never fulfilling.’

But here, now, he was promising to prove it to you.

The words of acceptance are dancing up your throat, hanging on the tip of your tongue and at the edge of your lips. But before you can speak them into existence, the universe silences you once again.

“Alright everyone, please clear the dance floor and let the bride and groom have one private last dance. Make your way to the front entrance and get ready to send them off in style!”

The MC’s voice booms from the speaker, pulling your attention and your body away from the gentle hold of Matt. The uncertainty and distrust take advantage of the interruption to reassert itself in your mind.

‘This was a sign,’ it said. ‘The universe is protecting you from getting your heart broken again.’

But when you look back, your eyes connecting to Matt’s once more and you still see nothing but yearning on his face, you feel your own longing surge again.

“Meet me by the fountain when this is all over?” you ask.

“I’ll be there.”

This time, you really do believe him.

You meet with the rest of the bridesmaids and hand out the silver streamers. You are blessed with an immense amount of coordination and impeccable timing as the streamers pop right as Scotty and Emily make their way through the crowd and hop in the car, already packed with their suitcases and honeymoon plane tickets. It is another few moments of clean up and meeting with the wedding coordinator before you are able to run back to the cabin where you and the other bridesmaids stayed for the past two days. You grab your overnight duffle bag, slinging it over your shoulder before making your way through the country club and out to the garden near the front entrance.

The two aspects of your personality were still at war with each other as you entered the terrace. Part of you prayed that Matt would keep his word and be there, just like he said. The other part prepared itself for the possibility that this was all just a cruel joke, an elaborate attempt for him to keep his hooks in you.

But when you walk out and see Matt standing next to the stone fountain, his profile illuminated by the garden lights, your desire once again silences the doubt in your mind.

You wanted to trust him. Sure, you might get hurt. But you could also heal.

That hope was worth the risk.

Matt hears your heels clacking against the pavement and turns to face you, his lips curling in a gentle smile at your approach.

“You’re here,” you say, breathless, as if your brain still didn’t trust that this wasn’t all a dream.

“I told you I would be,” he replies, holding out his hand to you again, another offering for you to accept or reject. This time, your hand slides easily into his, your fingers intertwining.

There is a pause, as if neither of you expected to be in this situation. Now that you were, you were both unsure what to do next. The uncertainty sinks into you, your voice breaking the silence in an attempt to continue the moment.

“I was planning on getting a room at the hotel airport,” you explain. “If you want to join me.”

You swear you see a flash of surprise cross Matt’s face at your suggestion before softening, a look of gentle exasperation painted on his features.

“Is that how you think I’m going to make it up to you?” he asks. His tone isn’t frustrated or offended. Instead, it’s curious, like he truly wonders if that’s what you thought of him. Or if that’s what you needed from him.

The ache that rushes through your body, reminiscent of the desire you always felt towards him but multiplied tenfold, gives you your answer. The months you spent denying your hunger for him, the ways you explained away the pain of losing him as something akin to withdrawal, how you used those brief moments of happiness to justify your choice to leave, keeping you handcuffed to the idea that you would be better off without him… they all melted away.

You wanted him. You’ve always wanted him.

You step forward, pressing your body close as you look into those eyes that haunted your dreams.

“It’s how I want you to,” you whisper, the response to his question cutting through the night air.

There is no clear indication on who moved first but you find it doesn’t matter when you feel the press of Matt’s lips against yours. This kiss itself is delicate, as if he was careful not to cross any line, any boundary that you wanted to place. But you had no sense of restraint.

Your desire surged forward, free from the cage that you kept it locked in. You release your grip on his hand and your duffle bag, your free hands flying up to his hair, tangling in the silky locks as your body presses impossibly closer. Matt takes your desperation in stride, his own arms wrapping around you, holding you steady. Your tongue presses against the seam of his lips, silently begging for access which he gives. A whimper escapes your throat, the taste of him on your tongue only increasing your craving. You can feel Matt’s grip tighten in response to your sounds, his fingers crumpling the silk fabric of your dress as he swallows every desperate noise that he pulls from you.

Somehow, the kisses slow until your lips are falling away from each other. Matt keeps you near, your forehead pressed against his, the warmth of his breath fanning across your cheekbones.

“Let me take you home,” he murmurs and you don’t even think twice before your head is nodding in agreement.

The car ride back to his place feels both familiar and foreign. The air between you is still thick with need but those powerful emotions are lightened by the feeling of Matt’s fingers intertwining with yours over the center console, the way his eyes dart over to you, looking at you as if he couldn’t believe this was real. You were sure that your face conveyed the same thought.

He pulls into the driveway, the porchlight gleaming like a beacon in the darkness, calling you back to him. His grip around you is firm as he walks you to the front door, escorting you across the threshold and your eyes take in the sight of a house that you felt you knew like the back of your hand. The pillows on his couch were different as was some of the art lining the walls but besides that, it looked exactly how it did the last time you were there.

You hear Matt kick off his shoes behind you and you aren’t sure if it’s habit or muscle memory that pulls you forward, your own heels tapping against the hardwood as you wander deeper, your body guiding you to the staircase. Your hand wraps around the wooden railing as you begin your ascent to the second floor. Matt is close behind you, his own steps slow and measured as he lets you guide him up the stairs and to the first door on your right.

The master bedroom is more of the same, the smallest and subtlest of changes catching your attention as you walk into the room. You can hear the small click of the door latch finding home echo and you turn to see Matt leaning against the doorframe, his eyes observing you in the low lamplight.

Your smile is all the encouragement he needs to push himself away from the door, crossing the distance stretched between you in only a few steps. His hand lifts to cup your face, your eyes locking with his before he is capturing your lips in another kiss.

In the safety and security of his bedroom, it seems as if both of your desires were unleashed with a vengeance. His hands pull you closer and your own scramble on his body, wanting to feel every inch of him, wanting to recommit his shape to memory. You are pressed against him, pushing him deeper into the room, your feet moving across the carpeted floor. He lets you manipulate him, walking backward and holding you against him as if he wanted no space to separate the two of you ever again, be it three-thousand miles or three inches.

It isn’t long until his body is falling to sit on the edge of his mattress, his thighs spreading to pull you between them. His desire to have you close is reciprocated, your body moving on its own accord. Your hand mindlessly reaches down to grip the fabric of your dress, pulling the midi hem higher to allow you to climb into his lap without hinderance, your legs straddling his waist.

Matt’s hands grip you tighter, pulling you close, the movement of his lips against yours never ceasing. Your own hands return to tangle in his hair, the taste of him more intoxicating than all the bottles and glasses of alcohol that you drank trying to forget him.

If possible, your desire ratchets up another level and your hands fall from his hair, tugging off his suit jacket. You blindly reach for his tie, undoing the knot as Matt’s hands wander all over your body, grabbing your ass, pulling your hips down to meet his. A moan rumbles from your chest as you feel the hardness of him pressed against you, your lips falling from Matt’s. He doesn’t seem affected, his own lips moving to kiss your neck, his hands still tracing your curves.

You are blind with lust as Matt’s head dips across your collarbones and the top of your decolletage and you let your instincts guide you, your fingers finding the buttons of his dress shirt. Each clasp is unfastened deftly and as soon as the shirt falls open, your hands sneak underneath the fabric, pressing against Matt’s warm skin. You can feel the strength of his chest, the movement of his muscles, and the pounding of his heart underneath your palms as they glide up, pushing the material off his broad shoulders. Matt’s hands only depart from your body momentarily to rid the shirt from his frame completely before he is pulling your lips to his again.

Your hands drift back down to his abdomen and you can feel his muscles clench in response to your gentle touch. It’s another generous roll of your hips against his before your fingertips find the button and zipper of his slacks. You blindly undo them just enough that you can slip your hand beneath both the waistband of his pants and boxer briefs.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Matt groans against your skin as your hand wraps around his length. Another rush of heat flows through your body at hearing the familiar pet-name fall from his lips. Your own lips twist in a smile as you give him a few languid strokes, relishing in the way his moans vibrate against your skin – the way he weakens for you.

The need to make him unravel more takes over as you begin to pull away from him, your body scooting back in order to dismount and fall to your knees in front of him. But before you could even drop a single foot onto the carpeted floor, Matt’s hands hold you firm, halting your motions.

“No,” he whispers, pulling you back to him. “Not tonight.”

You stare at him, your eagerness to have him in your mouth mixing with the confusion of why he was preventing you from doing just that. The immediate response he gives you is another kiss, his hand returning to rest against your jaw. When he does pull away, you hear his sultry timbre echo around the room.

“I should be the one on my knees worshipping you, not the other way around.” 

His declaration burns through you, igniting a need that had been left untapped for years.

You were used to submitting to Matt Martin. You thought that you loved it. But now, here he was ready to bow to you and your desires and your will. That thought alone made a fire pool in your lower stomach, your lips pressing against his again.

His hands tighten against your skin, securing his grip on you as he lifts himself from the bed with you in his arms. The sensation of the smooth sheets pressing against your back is almost instantaneous, Matt’s lips falling from yours to retrace their previous pathway along your jaw, down the column of your throat and across your collarbones. You are about to lift yourself upright to pull the material of your dress away from your frame but Matt’s arms keep you pinned against the mattress. Instead, his hand simply tugs the fabric up, painstakingly exposing more of your skin to the cool air until the silk is bunched around your waist.

You feel Matt’s smile against your skin as his lips continue their descent, kisses placed against your stomach before he presses a whisper of one right above the edge of your panties.

“So fucking beautiful,” he whispers, his eyes darting up to look at you.

The only sound that your voice can manage is a whine but it’s enough for Matt, his elegant fingers hooking and twisting around your waistband. Your head falls back as you lift your hips to help him pull the soft cotton away. He tugs the material down your legs at a painstaking pace, lifting your feet to unhook the elastic from around your ankles.

You expect – no, you need him to return to the apex of your thighs. But you soon realize how much Matt meant it when he said he planned on worshipping you.

His hands guide your feet to rest on his muscular thighs as his finger unbuckle your shoe, sliding it off before repeating the action on the other side. He lifts your leg, your bare heel now resting on the back of his shoulder and you sigh when you feel his lips press against your calf. They linger as he makes his way back up your frame, a kiss pressed on your shin, your knee, your inner thigh.

It feels like reverence. It feels like devotion – to you, to the way you make him feel.

Your hand reaches down, tangling in his hair and gently tugging him closer to the place you needed him most. Matt lets you guide him and, after he brings both of your legs to rest on his shoulders, his arm wrapping around your waist, pinning your hips to the bed, he finally – finally – presses his mouth against your core.

A relieved sigh escapes your chest as Matt’s lips move, his tongue darting out to trace your folds. Your sighs turn to whimpers to moans as he continues his ministrations, remembering all the things that make your breathing hitch, your thighs shake. Remembering all the ways you come undone.

“Still so sweet,” he murmurs. “Still so desperate for me.”

He resumes his movements, winding you up in the most deliberate way. Your free hand twists into the sheets as he drags you closer to the edge, his tongue diving into your cunt before lifting to flick against your clit, the action causing your hips to jolt from beneath his strong arm. You swear that you are about to rip his sheets based on how tight you are holding them.

You’re too strung out to see Matt’s eyes lift, him noticing the death grip you have on the soft cotton covering the mattress. In your haze, you can feel the grip he has on your thigh loosen and depart but your mind doesn’t understand the reason until you feel his hand dancing across your fingers twisted in the sheets, silently coaxing you to release the fabric. You do and as soon as there is space, his fingers filling the gaps between yours, holding your hand tightly as his mouth continues to work its sinful magic against you.

Your orgasm hits you unexpectedly, your back arching off the bed as the tidal wave of pleasure crashes through your body, radiating from your stomach down to the tips of each limb. Your hand tightens around his so firmly that you believe you must be cutting off circulation. But Matt doesn’t seem to mind, squeezing your hand tighter in response. He moans against your core in response to the taste of your release flooding his tongue, the vibration sending another round of shudders down your spine.

The feeling of Matt’s mouth and hands leaving you ignites a new wave of desperation, one that is only partially satiated when he returns to hover over you, kissing you deeply. You moan into his mouth when you taste the tang of your own essence still coating his tongue.

“I can’t believe I forgot how good you were at that,” you exhale when your lips fall from his.

“I don’t think I’ll ever forget how gorgeous you look when you cum,” he murmurs, his head dipping down to your neck, his quiet assertation making you smile.

You let him press his lips against your throat, content to lay beneath him for the moment. But when you feel his hips roll against yours, his own hunger for you and your body not yet satisfied, another ache of need hits you. You pull his head back up to your face, capturing his lips in another feverish kiss.

Matt’s body hovers mere centimeters above yours, his hips pressed against you. The position makes it easy for you to hook your leg around him. Using what strength you had, you somehow manage to flip the two of you around, Matt’s back crashing onto the bed, your body now suspended above him.

You break the kiss, lifting yourself upright with a grin on your face as your hands trace over the ridges of his chest. His own hands dance up your thighs, sneaking beneath the hem of your dress to caress the soft skin around your hipbones. In the span of a breath, your fingers bunch the silken material of your gown, gathering it in your hands before you pull the fabric over your head.

The gentle sharp inhale of Matt’s breath as your body becomes entirely exposed to him is music to your ears. There is no stopping his hands as they continue to drift up your body, gliding over the curves of your hips and waist, dancing across your ribcage before coming to cup your breasts. He caresses the sensitive skin, his thumbs reaching to brush against your nipples causing your head to fall back, a soft plea for him to continue falling from your mouth. He listens, his fingers roving across your body, as if there was not an inch of skin that he wanted to leave untouched.

“Such a gorgeous perfect body,” he mutters, making the pool of desire within you fill again.

You lift your hips up only so far as to reach behind you, tugging at the fabric of his slacks and boxer briefs; a silent request. His hands fall from your body to pull the material down his legs and you feel him kick off the only remaining barriers between your bodies. You lean forward as you kiss him again, your hips sinking back down. A simultaneous moan escapes both of you as you grind against him, your arousal coating the soft skin of his shaft.

There is want and then there is pure unadulterated need and the latter is what takes a hold of you now. Your lips fall from his as you stretch your body forward, your arm reaching for the nightstand drawer, the place he used to – and now you hope still does – keep his condoms. Your progress is halted briefly by Matt’s head lifting to wrap his lips around your nipples, the action making another gasp sound your throat. You persevere, albeit somewhat distracted because of Matt’s ministrations, pulling open the drawer, relieved to see the box in the same place, thankful that not everything had changed.

But as you reach for one of the square packets, your eyes land on a stack of envelopes pushed against the other side and you swear you see your name scrawled across the white paper. You don’t have any time to linger on them as you feel Matt’s teeth gently nip at your skin, pulling your attention back to him.

“Please, darling, hurry up,” he implores, dark blue eyes looking up to you. “Need to get inside you.”

Who were you to deny him?

Your fingers grasp the foil, your body returning to its upright position above him. You rip open the packet, pulling the rubber from the confines and preparing it before you reach behind you, taking Matt in your hand. He throws his head back, his hair haloing around his face as you give him a few languid strokes before sliding the condom on.

There is no waiting, no more hesitation as you lift your hips up. Your free hand presses against the center of his chest for balance as you guide him to your entrance. You aren’t sure if it’s him or yourself you’re teasing when you slide the tip of him against your folds once, twice before you align yourself to him.

Your mouth falls open in a silent moan as you sink down, the stretch of him entering you delectably foreign and yet comfortingly familiar. Matt has a similar reaction to the sensation of your walls wrapping around him, his hands flying up to your hips, his grip tightening around you so much so that you swear you’re going to have bruises in the shape of his fingerprints the next morning.

“Fuck, darling,” he growls as your hips meet his, him bottoming out inside of you. “Still feel like fucking heaven around me.”

Your only response is a whimper as your eyes flutter shut, both of your hands now resting on his chest, using him for leverage as you begin to move. Matt guides the motion of your hips, helping you bounce on top of him, letting you grind against him, more sharp gasps falling from your lips as your clit rubs against the taut skin of his lower stomach.

“That’s it sweetheart,” he praises, fingers brushing against your skin as you ride him. “Take what you want from me. It’s yours to have.”

You whine, grinding your hips even deeper onto him, one of your hands lifting to tease your nipples. You missed this, the feeling of Matt hitting spots so deep in you, spots that no one else had been able to find before and since.

“God, I missed this,” Matt groans, echoing your thoughts, his eyes devouring your body. “Missed you.”

His words force you to open your eyelids and when your eyes lock, you almost cum simply from the way he is staring at you: like you were the most beautiful piece of artwork, like you were sculpted from the purest marble, crafted from the finest paints. Like you deserved to be hung in the Louvre.

“Matt,” you whine, his name falling from your lips in a plea as your movements falter against him.

“What is it, sweetheart?” he asks, his own voice strained and earnest. “What do you need?”

“Need you to fuck me.”

“Yeah?” he questions. But unlike the times before, he’s not asking in order to tease you, to be cruel, or to force you to beg him for a mere sliver of his attention. He is asking because he wants to hear you say it – wants to hear you confess that you’ve missed him and that you’ve been wanting him as much as he has been wanting you.

“Please,” you reply. “Please, I need it. I need you.”

Your words aren’t twinged with contempt, nor are they wretched from your mouth unwillingly. They fall from your lips because you mean them, because you want to beg for him – not the other way around.

A gasp is torn from your chest as Matt lifts himself up, his chest pressing against yours. His hands trace your spine, one burrowing into the hair at the nape of your neck, the other resting heavy on the small of your back. He pulls you to him, kissing you again and swallowing every noise that falls from your lips as he drags your hips into his.

You weren’t sure if it was because you were wound too tight or that you truly couldn’t comprehend what was happening because before you knew it, Matt had spun you around, flipping you once again so you were the one laying against the sheets. Your legs instinctively wrap around his hips and before you can moan at the feeling of him thrusting into you, your sounds are muffled by his lips again.

Matt eventually breaks away, one arm reaching back to grip your thigh, pulling one leg higher, the new angle causing every stroke of him to brush against that damnable spot that made you see stars. You cry out, your head collapsing against the bed, Matt’s name falling from your lips.

“Fuck, I missed this,” Matt mutters, keeping his steady pace as he watches your body respond to his movements. “Missed how beautiful you look underneath me. Missed this perfect fucking pussy. Fucking taking all of me like it’s made for me.”

His possessiveness makes you whimper, the high-pitched sound catching his ear.

“That right, baby?” he asks. “This cunt still mine, even after all this time?”

“Yes,” comes your reply, wrapped in a strangled moan. “I’m all yours. I’m still yours,” you gasp out, your hips desperately chasing his.

“And I’m all yours,” Matt replies, his head dropping down to kiss you again. “Let it out, sweetheart. Let me hear you.”

He doesn’t speed up, content to keep his languid pace, steadily driving you towards that cliff. The noises that escape you are incoherent, a jumbled mess of curses and pleas as your walls flutter desperately around him. It feels like the most deliberate and exquisite torture, a pleasure that you would welcome time and time again if he would let you.

“Come on, darling,” you hear Matt’s voice whisper in your ear. “Remind me how good it feels when that beautiful cunt cums around me.”

It is the quiet demand that has you falling off the edge, your muscles stiffening as your orgasm hits you. You can hear a faint growl rumble from Matt, murmured praise being spoken into your skin like a prayer as he fucks you through it, your legs trembling as they fall from him.

Matt’s movements finally increase in speed as he chases own climax, each move of his hips making you whimper. You tug his head to you, kissing him fiercely and swallowing his groans as he stills and you bask in the sensation of his cock pulsing inside of you.

Your labored breaths mingle as you stay wrapped up together, sweat drenched foreheads pressed against each other as you both collect yourself. Matt’s hand, the one that that had been gripping your thigh, lifts to brush your hair away from your forehead as his eyes appraise you. You can’t stop the way your eyes close as he leans in, kissing you once again, his tongue dipping into your open mouth and you whine as you feel him slowly pull out of you.

He places a gentle chaste kiss against your lips before lifting himself off you, walking around the bed. Your eyes track his movements, watching as he stops at the nightstand, the top drawer still open. There is a flicker of some emotion that crosses his face before he pushes the drawer closed before disappearing into the ensuite bathroom. You hear the water running before he returns, a warm damp washcloth in one hand and a t-shirt in the other.

Matt gently presses the washcloth against your skin, starting at your forehead and temples before descending until he reached the apex of your thighs, brushing away the lingering wetness of your release from your skin. He throws the towel into the hamper and holds out his hand, which you take. You let him lift your torso off the sheets as he hands you the t-shirt. He holds you steady while you slip the soft cotton over your head, the worn Maple Leaf emblem resting on your upper chest almost completely faded.

You collapse back against the sheets as Matt pulls on a pair of boxers before climbing next to you. His arms wrap around your body as he settles behind you, pulling your back close to his chest. Your own fingers lift to absentmindedly play with his as reality crashes back over you.

You aren’t sure what to say, if there even is anything to be said. You don’t want to ruin the golden halo of peace that surrounds the two of you but you knew you couldn’t just leave it like this. There were still too many questions unanswered, still too much uncertainty.

“What are you thinking about?” you hear Matt’s husky voice whisper from behind you. You sigh, wiggling in his grasp. He loosens his hold enough for you to spin and face him, his blue eyes soft as they take in the sight of you in his bed.

“A lot of things,” you answer, the response vague enough to let him decide whether to press on or to leave it at that. He decides to do the former.

“Like what?”

Your eyes lift to think, picturing the mess of thoughts in your head as you attempt to untangle each. The loose threads seem innumerable, too many to choose which was the most important to tug and which could be saved for a later moment. So, you just latch onto the first image that appears in your mind.

“Could I ask you a question?” you say, eyes connecting back to him.

“Of course.”

“When I was in your nightstand earlier,” you begin, carefully observing even the tiniest reactions that tug at Matt’s expression. “I saw a stack of envelopes and it looked like they had my name on them. What are they?”

There is a myriad of emotions that dance across Matt’s face, each more fleeting than the last before his features settle to what looks to you to be apathy or resignation. You feel your heart panic as his body turns away from, fearing that you spoke the wrong words – said the wrong thing. But it quiets when you watch him pull open the nightstand drawer, his hand reaching in. Your eyes follow his movements as he pulls out the stack of envelopes before spinning back to you.

“They’re for you,” he says, holding them out towards you. You take them from his hands, the bundle held tight by a rubber band. Your fingers flip through each of them, finding your name written on every single one. Your eyes dart from the paper back to him and you swear you see his cheeks tinge a lightish pink.

“My therapist suggested that I write you letters.”

“Your therapist?”

“Yeah. I started seeing him shortly after you left,” he explains, his hand reaching behind to awkwardly scratch at the nape of his neck. “Realized that there was a lot I needed to work on.”

“Why didn’t you send them?”

“I didn’t know your new address,” he tells you, the candor in his voice strengthening as he continues. “And I was too proud to ask. Besides, I wasn’t sure if you even wanted to hear from me. Thought you might throw them away if I did send them.”

You don’t respond, neither confirming or denying his assumption because in that moment, you weren’t certain what you would’ve done if a letter from him had appeared in your mailbox.

“What’s in them?” you ask, choosing to revert to a safer statement.

“Things I wanted to say to you. Things I never said to you when you needed to hear them. Everything I wanted to tell you but never got the chance to.”

There is a silence as you take in his declaration, your curiosity piquing as your fingers trace the edges of the envelopes. There is a desire to read them but also a fear, unsure if the contents would contain blame or apologies or gaslighting or regret.

“You don’t have to read them now,” Matt speaks again, his voice drawing your attention back to him.  “You don’t have to read them at all if you don’t want to. They’re yours to do whatever you please.”  

Something inside you tells you that it’s dangerous; that it’s a bad idea to open them. To trace over the words and strong emotions that forced him to put pen to paper. To allow Matt Martin back into the heart that you’ve spent years repairing. But when you feel his hand trace down the side of your face, his fingers twirling a strand of your hair, you realize that that line had already been blurred beyond recognition.

You didn’t know what a bad idea was when Matt was around. You had already done so many things that you shouldn’t have with him. What was one more bad idea compared to the thousands you acted on before?

What was this bad idea in comparison to one that brought you to Matt Martin’s bed in the first place?

Your mind swirls with all the drastic changes you had experienced in such a short amount of time. How different the world felt right now versus a few hours ago. How different the man sitting next to you was from the man you left in a Long Island bar two years ago. You felt as if you lived twenty lifetimes since you woke up. The past, the present, and every possible future tangled together in your mind, an amalgamation of all that had happened and all that could happen.

But you didn’t want to think about that right now. All you wanted to do was sink into Matt Martin’s arms and hold him close.

So, that’s exactly what you did.

You gently turn away from Matt, reaching up to place the stack of envelopes on top of the neighboring nightstand. There was still uncertainty whether you would read them, but the action of keeping them meant that you would consider it. And when you face Matt again, it seems that – for him – that was enough. This time, it is you who reaches out to intertwine your hand with his, scooting closer to him. He follows your lead, his body sinking into the mattress until you are pressed together, side by side. Your head comes to rest on chest, your eyes closing, the sound of his strong heartbeat echoing in your ear.

Right before sleep overtakes you, you manage to whisper to him the truth that your heart sang out, the sentence that you realized you couldn’t deny even after months of trying to do just that.

“I missed you too.”

The last thing you register is a soft kiss pressed onto the crown of your head, and encompassed in Matt’s warm embrace, you let the feeling of peace wash over you.

… but it’s gonna be alright. I did my time…

a/n 2.0: I did decide to leave it a little open ended because i just liked the feeling of it better. but if you want to know how what i think happens after this, i will direct you to this mashup

tagging the babes who made writing this so rewarding: @texanstarslove @comphy-and-cozy @smileysvech @laurenairay @dissonannce @cowboybarzy @cellythefloshie @provokedgoalie @m00nlightdelights @tkachvkmatthew @cixrosie @alwaysclassyeagle @geospatialharmony

[swissboyhisch]

New York Luck

Pairing: Mat Barzal x Reader

Summary: After a lovely holiday, your partner breaks up with you and so you turn to your only friend in the city.

Word Count: 1055

A/N: I'm not super happy with this. I feel like it's rushed but I want to put it out anyway.

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THE MASTERLIST JOIN THE TAGLIST HOCKEY DISCORD

Why is it that every time you come to New York, something bad happens. The last time you had gotten your shitty diagnosis. This time your current boyfriend and yourself had decided to go on a holiday to Hawaii for a week and of course, an hour after landing back in New York he decided to break your heart.

Something about not being ready for a relationship. Apparently. And here you were ready to tell him I love you on your holiday but held back because he was a little distant at night. That’s why you’re now standing in a Walmart; wearing a pair of sunglasses trying to find food.

Sadly you can’t even go home. In three days you have to have another surgery. A different one to the last time you were in New York. Now you’re stuck in the city, alone and crying your eyes out. Dealing with health issues and a break up. What a great combo. And to make things worse, you can’t even drink away your emotions!

Aisle by aisle, you grab chocolate, some cupcakes, cheese and crackers, a bit of everything. Oh and a bottle of coke, can’t forget it. That’s when you heard a familiar voice calling your name. You turned to where the voice came from. 

“Mat?”

One of the few people you knew in the city. Mat wasn’t a stranger to you. Quite the opposite actually. The pair of you grew up together then reconnected later on once he had been drafted. After a couple hook ups since the reunion, you two were close when you did meet up.

“Are you okay?” Mat questions, spying your reddened cheeks just under your glasses. 

“I uh… Yeah,” You tried to brush it off. Discreetly wiping the stray tears that dripped down your cheeks. “Just some personal stuff.”

The hockey player wasn’t buying it. He had known you long enough to see through your lies. Even if they were really bad like the one you just told. “Okay, what’s up? I know that’s a lie. You were literally just in Hawaii.”

“Stalking my insta?” You joke weakly.

“Gotta see what my favourite girl is up to.”

That made your heart hurt more. Here Mat was calling you that where as your ex could barely call you his girlfriend in front of his friends. God, you thought your relationship was great. Fuck. How could you be so blind. 

“Yeah we got back this morning and then he broke up with me an hour after we landed.”

Mat immediately brought you in for a hug. “Shit. He’s an asshole for that.”

“Doesn’t help I have surgery friday,” You add, sniffling.

“Another one?” Mat sighs. “He’s a coward for breaking up with you before that. It’s a dick move.”

You shrug off the comment. “I’d rather him do it now then drag it out. Now I can just focus on myself. Gonna get snacks and have a night in my hotel. Maybe get ice cream from the place next door.”

“Can I join?” Mat asked. 

“Are you sure?”

Matt agreed and the two of you finished grabbing snacks for the night and finished Mat’s shopping. He brought groceries for his apartment so the two created a plan. First, drop off Mat’s groceries to his apartment. Then head to your hotel to have a chill night. 

You two arrived back at your hotel, which was quite a fancy one since you and your partner had planned to stay there together. First, before retreating to your bedroom, you stopped by the ice cream place and got way too much. Enough that Mat’s nutritionist would cry at the thought of the hockey player consuming all that sugar. 

“This is nice.” The two of you walked into the nice hotel room. A modern style hotel room on the 9th floor. A king sized bed in the middle with the bathroom off to the left as you walked in. There was even a window with a blind in the shower. “Have you stayed here before?”

“Yeah, my ex worked nearby so I’d stay when I’d come to visit him,” You respond.

Mat grabbed the bag of snacks and put that on the counter, wrapped you in a hug and dragged you onto the bed. The smell of his cologne filled your senses. Despite your old hook up ways with Mat, the familiar scent still gave you butterflies.

“I wanna have a shower and get into my pyjamas,” You sighed, pulling away from Mat. You grabbed some clothes and went to go to the bathroom when a sulking sound came from the boy laying on your bed. When you looked at him, he was pulling the puppy's eyes. “What? Do you wanna join?”

“Please?” You giggled and agreed, leaving him to join you when he wished. “Thank youuuu!”

The bathroom was really modern. A large mirror in front of the sink and a huge shower with a rainfall head. Your favourite type of shower. After turning on the water to your preferred temperature, you stripped and got into the shower. The water felt calming as you stood under the stream. 

“Heya,” Mat mutters as he slips into the shower. 

You leaned into the hockey player as he wrapped his arms around you. This wasn’t the first time you had showered with him. But let’s just say usually, a simple shower wasn’t just that. 

“Are you okay?” Mat asks as you’re unusually quiet around him. That question just makes you break. A flood of emotions coming through. Mat was quick to pull you closer, tight against his naked body as you started to sob. “He’s an idiot.”

“What’s wrong with me?” You cried.

“Nothing. I promise you it’s him. He’s the worst person for doing this to you. He’s the problem.”

Once you had calmed down and the two of you had finished washing, you changed into your pyjamas and cuddled up on bed with a ton of snacks surrounding the pair of you. Mat had signed into his Disney. You allowed him to pick what the two of you would watch for the night. When you saw the intro it solidified the hidden feeling for him. It was your favourite show.

“Thanks for this,” You mutter to Mat.

The brunette kissed the top of your head. “Always.”

TAG LIST

@findapenny @mp0625 @hischierhaze @11zegras @lvrzegras @francesfarhadi @cixrosie @daisysthings

[ilyasorokinn]

omgggg happy 3rd anniversary to you!!!! here's to many more to come 🥂 for this celebration can i please request, from the general fluffy dialogue prompt list number 8 + 9 with mat barzal pls? thank you!

WINNIE MARTIN’S FAVORITE PERSON

this is the first of my tumblr-versary blurbs, so if that annoys you, block the tag 'taylor's tumblr-versary' love ya <3

8. "who let you be this cute today?" 9. "can we wait a second? i wanna take a picture of you right now." (from this prompt list)

you tried to go to as many games as you could, but you had a job so making it to every game was impossible. but, when you could make it to games, mat made sure to plan ahead and make sure you were gonna have a good time.

"you have a ride, right?" mat asked from the bathroom where he was still getting read.

"yes, i have a ride." you sighed. a moment of silence enveloped you and you knew something was wrong, "you okay? you need help with anything?" you asked.

"...yes." he hesitated.

"you can't tie your tie, can you?" you smiled.

"no." you could see the pout on his face as you made your way into the bathroom.

"ooh." you teased, "mathew barzal, who let you be this cute today?" you teased, enjoying the shy smile on his face.

"stop please. just help." he handed you the tie he wanted to wear, but you shook your head, "what?"

"mat, i love you, but your sense of style is awful." you winced, recalling every bad fashion choice you had seen him make. you set the tie on the counter and grabbed a different one, one that better matched the suit he was wearing, and began tying it.

"i should.be offended." the smile on his face told you he wasn't.

"i'm saving you from ending up on people's worst dressed." you shrugged.

he rolled his eyes, "so, before i go, can i see what you're gonna wear tonight?" it was no secret that you loved dressing up for games. it was fun and you liked doing it. you usually had little pieces with his name, number, or team colors. something to show your support, and mat loved it.

"nope." you shook your head.

"what? why not?"

"that ruins the surprise," you told him.

"you're gonna make me wait till after the game to see." he pouted.

"i don't know. maybe i'll be there at warmups." you shrugged, smiling when he perked up, "i think syd's bringing win, so maybe i'll go down with them." she was your ride, so going down to the ice for warmups made sense.

"okay, well, i guess i might see you during warmups." he kissed your forehead.

"maybe." you shrugged, wrapping your arms around his waist, "try not to fall, okay?" he rolled his eyes.

"i don't do it on purpose." he insisted.

you smiled, "score goals." you told him, leaning up and giving him a quick peck.

"for you, always." he hummed.

after he left, you got ready as quickly as you could and before you knew it, sydney martin was pulling up outside your building, "y/n yl/n, you always put the rest of us to shame."

"oh, stop it." you smiled bashfully.

"i'm serious. how you do it astounds me." she ran her finger over the sleeve of your jacket, "doesn't y/n look pretty, win?" you looked to the backseat where winnie was sitting, clutching a stuffed animal.

"pretty." she smiled.

"thank you, miss win." you winked before getting into the passenger side.

true to your word, you followed sydney down to the ice for warmups and helped keep winnie entertained. you could tell sydney was a little tired, so you did your best to keep her attention.

when the boys came out, you couldn't help but smile when mat tossed a couple of pucks over the ice to a few kids. winnie's eyes were glued to the ice as she watched all the guys skate around.

matt skated over, making his daughter laugh, blowing her kisses and even tossing her a puck, which she clutched to her chest along with her stuffed animal.

when your mat finally skated over, sydney took her daughter back so you and mat could have a moment. he smiled, taking notice of your jacket. he spun his finger, and you gave him a little twirl so he could see your jacket.

he gave a thumbs up and a nod, which made you laugh. he tossed a puck over and nodded to a kid behind you, whose eyes were glued. on mat, watching him mesmerized.

you nodded and waved. as he skated backward, he waved and winked. you rolled your eyes before looking at the puck. you smiled when you noticed that mat had signed it.

you turned around to the kid, who looked at you, probably after having seen mat point at him. you laughed before you handed it to him, "this is from barzy." you told him, "have fun tonight."

you turned back to sydney, who had her phone out and was probably recording and taking pictures of the whole thing, "you guys are so cute." she hugged you, "now come on, let's get some drinks." you smiled when winnie raised her arms in your direction, a signal that she wanted to be picked up.

after the game, and an ot goal scored by mat, you waited with sydney and the other girls in the tunnel. you were sitting with sydney, and the entire game, winnie was in your lap. somehow she had gravitated from her seat into your lap, but you didn't mind.

"look, win, there's your dad." you pointed when you saw matt walk out. she gave him a wave, but yawned and laid her head on your shoulder, "i'm tired, too." you patted her back, making the martin's smile.

you waved when you saw mat walk out. he made his way over to you and hugged you, pressing a kiss to your cheek, "i'm proud of you. overtime goal!" you cheered quietly, not wanting to disturb winnie too much.

"i know. all for you." he smiled into your hair before pressing a kiss to the top of your head, "you ready to go?" you hummed.

"wait, wait, before you guys go." sydney stopped you, pulling out hr phone, "can we wait a second? i wanna take a picture of you right now." she begged.

"fine." mat rolled his eyes playfully, but posed for the picture nonetheless. after the picture was taken, you were going to hand winnie off to her parents, but she clung to you.

"come on, we gotta go home, winnie." sydney sighed, flashing. youan apologetic smile.

"how about this? i'll carry you in the car, but after that, i gotta go." you offered, and she nodded, "all right, let's go." you switched arms and started heading int he direction of sydney's car.

mat walked by your side, holding your hand and talking to you about whatever. unbeknownst to you, sydney, who was trailing behind you and mat, was snapping pictures.

you set winnie in her car seat and waved, "bye, winnie girl." you blew her a kiss and she blew you one back, which you accepted and held close to your chest, which made her laugh.

you walked back to mat's car, "that felt very domestic." he told you.

"keep dreaming, barzal. let's stick to babysitting."

"i know, i know." he raised his hands in surrender.

as you got waited for mat to get into bed later that night, you saw sydney's tag and checked out the instagram story. it was a photo she had taken, without your knowledge, of you and mat walking towards the parking garage, hand-in-hand, winnie in your arms, her head on your shoulder with the caption 'her favorite person ever ❤️ @/yourusername'

mat hopped into bed next to you and saw the post, "you're right. we do look domestic." you smiled.

"let's stick to babysitting." he joked.

taylor's tumblr-versary!

[col-islander43]

Haircut

Mat Barzal x reader

Warnings: none

Word count: {1,033}

"No, you're not." was your immediate response after Mat walked into your shared bedroom, claiming he was getting a haircut.

He stopped in his tracks, his brows drew together, and a pout formed on his lips as he stared at you in confusion. Trying to keep it together, you asked "What's wrong?"

Shaking his head, a sigh escaping his lips as he continued walking toward the bathroom "Nothing. My mom said the same thing when I told her I was getting my hair cut. It's just a bit creepy."

Joining him in the bathroom, you sat on the counter as he got out everything he needed to shave, he liked doing it the traditional way. There wasn't much to shave, just a bit of stubble, but he got used to having his face clean-shaven. So against your wishes, he was going to shave, you loved his facial hair and you were open about it.

"How about you sleep on it and make a decison tomorrow?" you bit your lip to suppress your smile when he gave you the same look from before as he applied shaving cream to his face.

"Babe, I already decided. I'm getting my hair cut on Friday I just have to make the appointment." Stepping in between your legs he handed you the razor, knowing you loved helping him shave even if you loved his facial hair more.

You had until Friday to convince him to not cut his hair since today was Tuesday "It's not fair, you know? You shave your beard, and you'll cut your hair which by the way didn't grow that much, what am I supposed to look forward too?" the teasing tone lacing your voice seemed to escape your boyfriend as he stared at you with his mouth wide open.

"You did not just say that!" his disbelieving tone and facial expression made laughter burst out of your mouth, hiding your face in his chest, careful to avoid the shaving cream.

You placed a couple of pecks on his exposed collarbone before looking up at him again "I'm kidding, love. I find it unfair because when I cut my hair you throw a fit for days."

"That's diff-" he cut off his sentence when you leveled him with a look that spoke for you. "Ok. I can't promise that my decison will change, but I'll sleep on it, only because you asked. Now give me a kiss, I'm getting touch starved."

You were about to protest, but before you could get the words out he had given you a peck on the lips which resulted in shaving cream covering small parts of your face.

---------

Laying on your side you watched the sun shining through the blinds, gently caressing Mat's face and highlighting all his features that you loved. Like every morning, you softly traced all his features with your thumb, the other hand raking through his hair, careful not to wake him up.

"I think you've memorized my whole face, you probably already had it memorized the first week you stayed over." His gruff morning voice startled you even if he was whispering.

"I'm sorry if I woke you." You slowly retracted your hands, placing them on his chest but Mat wasn't pleased with that decision. He pulled you closer, shaking his head as he placed your hands in their previous positions.

"You didn't wake me, but I'll get upset if you stop all the caressing. I'm feeling loved." The boyish grin that took over his face told you he was teasing you, but you continued your caressing because you liked doing it.

"You are loved. I love you. And I'll tell you every chance I get. Also, if you really want to get a haircut I'll suck it up and accept it, but your mom said she'll disown you." your voice was slightly above a whisper as he opened his eyes, confusion taking over his features.

"I love you too, but when did you talk to my mom?"

You chuckled when his lips formed into a pout, pecking his lips you caressed his brow "Yesterday. After you called her and went to the store to buy the cookies you claim are for me but eat your weight in. She sounded desperate and I can't blame her."

His jaw dropped as he softly pinched your waist "What's that supposed to mean?! Also they are good cookies."

You shrugged your shoulders trying to come up with a good answer "Baby, you're pretty, you're gorgeous, you're handsome just the way you are. You don't need a haircut."

He kissed your forehead as a way of thanking you before quickly pulling back "Hey! Don't avoid the question."

"I'm not avoiding the question." You definitely were "You don't need a haircut, it's a decent length." you gently pulled a couple of strands before pecking his lips "Especially after what happened last time." you murmured under your breath.

"What did you say? Speak up, sweetheart." He said the words in a low voice, the smirk on his face revealing he heard you loud and clear.

"Nothing." You looked down avoiding his gaze, but that didn't last long because he placed his finger under your chin lifting your gaze. He shook his head telling you he wasn't going to let this go.

"Speak up, baby."

His words made you squirm slightly, he knew exactly what he was doing "I said, especially after what happened last time. We're both a bit scared, babe. You said you were going to trim the ends and then you came back bald."

He burst out laughing, rolling onto his back and dragging you with him so you could lay on his chest "I wasn't bald."

You hid your face in the crook of his neck as your face slightly reddened "There's a difference between trimming the ends and getting a buzz cut. If you really want to get a hair cut I can trim your ends."

He pulled away slightly, his brows drawn together "You can do that? Why don't I know this?"

"I can trim ends I have done it before. And you never asked."

"We have been together for 2 years, how can I not know that?"

---------------------------------------------------------

Hi, Hi. School finished a couple of weeks ago so I'll try and post more.

Feedback is appreciated, hope you guys enjoyed!

[jackhues]

this time around - angel's world

NOTE: this takes place during april/2024. if you'd like to be tagged in coming works, comment on this <3 also... i think updates on this are starting again now (maybe next part in a week idk)

this is a series/interactive au, so feel free to send in any ideas/requests/thoughts you have about this! angel's world au masterlist!!

PART ONE || PART TWO || PART THREE|| PART FOUR || PART FIVE || PART SIX - SMAU (COMING SOON)

verstappen!twin reader x mat barzal ,, f1xhockey

angel looked at the time, nervously playing with her dress.

it was almost five o'clock, which meant her dad was almost here. it'd been a few months since she began dating mathew, and besides max, no one in her family had met him.

the truth was, she was nervous.

she knew everyone would love mat, he was a great person. but her dad might not. he was a person who'd done... questionable things while raising her and her twin. and while she held no grudge against him for those things, mat wasn't his biggest fan.

angel could only hope no one caused a problem today.

"you alright?"

angel looked up at mat, a smile spreading on her face just at the sight of him.

"i'm great," she promised. "just nervous. please don't say anything about the things dad did-"

"i won't," he held her hands in his. "look, i know he wasn't a great person, and i know you're okay with the things that happened. i also know that i'm not okay with those things... but this is only the first time we're meeting. i'm not going to say anything stupid, i promise. i'll be a nice canadian boy for the night, promise."

angel smiled, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. "thank you. i know you don't like this, but it's... it's too hard explaining things to dad. he doesn't get it. so we just limit our time with him instead."

"well, it's something," mat shrugged to himself. at angel's look, he raised his hands in the air, "i'll behave. i promise."

"alright lovebirds," max entered the living room, "you ready for the biggest test of your life?"

"max," angel groaned.

"i'm joking, i'm joking," the older twin laughed. "he'll love mat, and if he doesn't, that's fine, because lewis already offered to walk you down the aisle in dad's place."

"max!" she groaned again.

"i'm just making sure everyone knows the options!" he responded.

before angel or mat could respond, the doorbell rang, casting a spell and freezing the trio in their places.

"let's hope he didn't hear that last comment," max muttered, breaking the silence. "i'll get the door."

"i'll get it," angel grabbed max's arm to hold him back.

he'd spent his entire life putting himself in their dad's view, keeping angel away from him and his anger... but they weren't little kids anymore. she could face him.

she slipped down the hallways and to the door, opening it before she could chicken out.

and there stood jos verstappen, nodding at the sight of angel. he didn't smile much, angel knew that. so the nod was his way of smiling... or at least that's what she told herself.

"hi dad," she greeted him, hugging him since she hadn't seen him in a while. "how have you been?"

"same old," her dad responded, entering her apartment and making his way to the living room. "too many races on the calendar this year, flying back and forth is hard."

angel was tempted to remind him that he didn't have to be present at every race, but she managed to keep her mouth shut.

they entered the living room together, and jos did a double take at the sight of mathew.

"this the boyfriend?" he asked simply.

"mathew barzal," mat came over to introduce himself.

jos shook his hand and introduced himself.

"here, have a seat," mathew made space for him on the couch.

max and angel exchanged a glance, slightly surprised that jos took a seat and continued the conversation.

"i never knew he was this polite," max whispered to his twin, and it took angel a second to realize he was referring to mat. "didn't he tell charles to drive his car off a cliff after he beat him at mario kart?"

"maybe it's the canadian in him," angel offered. "lance does similar things sometimes."

"it's so weird," max muttered.

"i know."

surprisingly, the rest of the night and dinner went on without a hitch, and when it was finally time for jos to leave, he even gave mat a hug. angel tensed, but mat patted his back as if the two were old friends.

"he's a good one, huh?" jos even said to angel before leaving. "i like him."

angel didn't know what to say, so she shut the door in his face.

she walked back to the living room, still trying to process her dad's words, when she noticed mat and max in deep conversation. mathew knew next to nothing about f1, and max knew next to nothing about hockey... they were from two different worlds.

and yet, they sat in angel's living room, conversing as if they'd known each other for years, as if they were friends who simply enjoyed each other's company.

and with a start, angel realized that she did indeed, choose a good one this time around.

[idontgiveaflyinggrayson69]

Welcome Home

Author: Nat / @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69​

Tagging: @ryanpulock​ @suitandtys​ @texanstarslove​ @charlie-theangelwrites​

Relationship: Married; Anders Lee x Fem!Reader

Summary: You welcome your husband, Anders, home after a roadie.

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: Smut. Unprotected sex (wrap it up kids). Daddy kink. Dom/sub dynamics.

Comments: This is my fic for @barzysunflower​ for @antoineroussel​ ‘s Winter Fic Exchange! I was SO excited to see Anders on your list because we need more Captain Daddy content and I really enjoyed writing this and I hope you enjoy it, too!!!

Disclaimer: Reading/creating content for married players isn’t for everyone and I totally respect that! Don’t read if you don’t vibe with it, but please don’t send me hate!!!

(c) nat g. 2023 // do not repost, do not claim as your own

The worst thing about being married to an NHL player was when he was on the road. No matter how many times he had been away, it sucked every time to be left alone in an empty house. Every time Anders was away, you spent the entirety wishing he was home. You knew he had to go, that he was living his dream every day, but Anders was your everything, your best friend, you lover, your soul mate, so whenever he was away, you felt empty.

And that’s exactly how you felt this time around. It wasn’t even a long roadie, just Philly, Pittsburgh, and Washington before returning home, but it still meant your husband was away and your home felt more like a house than a home without him.

The days always went by slower without him, but, like always, he’d be home eventually. They won in Philly and Pittsburgh, but they lost in Washington, so even though it was a successful road trip, they still went home with a bitter taste in their mouths.

They flew home after the Washington game, which wasn’t a long flight, but they still got in late. You were in the bathroom going through your nighttime skin care routine when Anders came home. You heard the door open and the pups’ barks turn to happy whines as they realized their dad was home and you smiled to yourself. It wasn’t long before you heard his heavy steps come up the stairs and you waited for your husband to appear.

You heard him call your name as he stepped into the bedroom and a moment later, he stuck his head into the ensuite and softened when he saw you. “Aren’t you a sight,” he said as he leaned against the door frame. You were in just a robe, which was loosely tied and gave him a glimpse of your chest through the mirror, and, God, you’re the most beautiful woman in the world to him.

You blushed at the way he looked at you through the mirror and bit your lip, “you’re not so bad yourself.”

Anders couldn’t help but smirk as he shook his head and walked over to you, bracing his hands on either side of the vanity before he leaned in to kiss your neck, “I am nothing compared to your beauty.”

Your blush intensified as you leaned to the side to give him more room. Even after all these years, he still managed to give you butterflies. “I missed you,” you told him with a hum before you turned your head so he could kiss you properly. It was soft and slow and you cupped the back of his neck to pull him closer, craving him.

“Missed you more,” he told you when he broke the kiss.

“Not possible,” you shook your head and pulled him in for another kiss, melting into him as he deepened it. “But you smell like plane,” you told him and scrunched your nose up as you patted his chest.

“I can shower again,” he sighed and ran his thumb over the arch of your cheek and laughed when you knocked his hand away, not wanting him to mess up the skincare you just finished. “Or you could join me in the shower?”

You hummed as you pretended to think about it. “I will join you in the bath,” you replied and his smile widened as he nodded.

“A bath it is,” he agreed and cupped your chin so he could kiss you again and you smiled into the kiss, so in love with him. He chased your lips when you pulled back from the kiss, pressing another quick peck to your lips before letting you go to start running the bath.

When you renovated the house, having a tub that fit you, your husband, and his large thighs was a must, and you were fortunate to have a large enough bathroom to accommodated a tub that large.

You watched as Anders sat on the edge and turned the tub on, feeling the water until he got it hot enough for you before he put the plug in and began to strip himself of his shirt. His shoulders were big and broad and his chest had just a dusting of chest hair on it and you bit your lip as you ran your eyes down his chest before you reached out to touch him. “You’re so gorgeous,” you told him softly.

It was Anders’ turn to blush as he placed his hand on top of yours. “And all yours,” he replied, making you smirk and playfully squeeze his chest before running your hand down to the front of his sweats. “All mine?”

He groaned softly, getting hard from just your touch, “all yours.” Your smirk widened and you squeezed him through his sweats before pulling back innocently to feel the water and make sure it was the right temperature, and of course it was. Your husband knew you well. “You’re gonna be the death of me, woman,” he breathed and reached out to give your ass a soft smack and grabbed a handful before he pressed his hips against your ass, letting you feel all of him. “You feel what you do to me?” He asked, nipping at your neck.

Your jaw went slack as you felt him hard against you. “Oh, I feel it,” you replied with a soft moan and pressed yourself back against him. “Maybe you should feel what you do to me?”

He gave your hip a squeeze as he hummed before he stepped back to push his sweats and boxers down before he slipped into the tub and looked at you with a smirk, “come on in, baby.”

The tub still had a long way to fill, the water just licking Anders’ thighs, leaving his everything on display for you. You ran your eyes down him, eating him alive like the first time you saw him before you stood straighter and slowly pulled at the tie on your robe. You couldn’t help but tease him, letting the material slip from one shoulder then the other before you finally shrugged it off and stepped into the tub and straddled him, feeling him hard against your core as you looped her arms around his shoulders. “God you’re hot,” you breathed as you looked at your husband.

He groaned softly as he watched you. You’re the most beautiful woman in the world to him and he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist before tracing soft circles on your hip with his thumb. “Not as hot as you,” he told you before leaning in and kissing you.

Anders controlled every kiss and you tried to press yourself closer, his chest hair brushing against your nipples, pulling a soft moan from you before he moved his hands down to squeeze your ass. The kisses were slow and deep as the tub continued to fill with water and once the water reached your ribs, Anders reached around you to turn it off as you broke the kiss with a whine of his name and rested your forehead against his.

“What do you need, baby?” He asked you, the corner of his lip twitching up as he kneaded your ass.

You knew that he knew what you wanted, that he just liked to hear you say it, so you rocked your hips into his as you lightly scratched your nails over his shoulders with a soft moan. “Need you to fuck me,” you breathed before you kissed him again.

“I can do that, baby, but I’ve been on the road so it’s been a couple days, hasn’t it?” When you nodded, he hummed, “turn around and rest against my chest and spread your legs for me, baby, let Daddy take care of you.”

Your lips parted at the name which only made his smirk widen as he gave you an expectant look. He wasn’t going to ask again and you knew it. You nodded and slowly turned around to rest between his legs with your head on his shoulder before you hook your legs over his knees.

He rewarded you with a soft “good girl” before he ran his hands down your body, pausing at your breasts to gently pinch your nipples before he moved down to your inner thigh as he kissed your neck. “I’m going to show you how much I missed you. I’ve been thinking of you all trip long.”

“I was thinking about you too, Daddy,” you smirked and tried to spread your legs wider as you turned your head to kiss under his jaw.

“Yeah? Tell me what you were thinking about,” he hummed as he ran his finger up your pussy, pulling a soft moan from you.

“Thought about your big blue eyes and your smile and your voice and the way you moan my name when I’m sucking your cock and how your thick cock feels inside my pussy, Daddy,” you replied and gasped when he bit your shoulder before he soothed it over with his tongue and started to rub your clit exactly how you liked it.

“God yes,” you moaned, rolling your head to the side to give him more room.

“Not God, baby, just Daddy,” he smirked and nipped at your neck again before trailing his free hand back up your chest. You could never get over how big his hands were and he gently massaged your breast before he pinched your nipple and moaned into your neck at how perfect you are. “I’ve been looking forward to this all trip. The plane ride home went on forever knowing you were home looking as gorgeous as ever and I had to wait to get my hands on my beautiful wife,” he continued before he slowly pressed a finger into you and groaned how tight and warm you were.

“Oh, fuck,” you moaned, never getting over to how thick his fingers were. “Been thinking of fucking me all trip, huh?” You asked breathlessly. “Should’ve said something, I could’ve sent you something to take the edge off, maybe in that pretty pink set you just got me.”

Anders groaned again as he added another finger before he curled them up before he started fucking you with them. He never knew how he got so lucky with you. “Fuck, I should have,” he agreed and bit your neck again. “Gonna have to put a show on for me later, baby.”

“Okay Da—” you started before cutting yourself off with a gasp as he found your g-spot. “Right there,” you told him, your back arching. “Don’t stop.”

Anders would never stop, not when you’re being good for him at least, and he used the heel of his palm to rub your clit as he continued to fuck you with his fingers. “Spent days thinking of my wife’s sweet pussy,” he said. “Thinking of her being a good girl for me, cumming on my fingers, on my tongue, on my cock.” You clenched around his fingers as he talked, every word going straight to your core. “Daddy wants you to cum for him,” he continued, brushing his lips over the shell of your ear before he lightly nipped at the lobe. “Cum all over Daddy’s fingers.”

You let your eyes fall closed as you nodded, your jaw slack as you moaned before you came hard, fluttering around his fingers as you dug your nails into the meat of his thighs, needing to hold onto him. “That’s it,” he praised you, finger fucking you through your orgasm, “fucking squeezing my fingers so good, baby.”

“Daddy,” you moaned loudly before you reached behind you to cup the back of his neck. “Please. Fuck, please, Daddy, I need you.”

He hummed as if he was thinking about it as he continued to fuck you with his fingers. “Give me another one and you can have my cock,” he settled on before he added a third finger, groaning loudly at how tightly you clenched around him. “Be a good girl and cum for Daddy again.”

You fluttered around his fingers, so full of them and you couldn’t be bothered to quiet yourself as you moaned, desperately gripping the edge of the tub to get your bearings.

“God you’re so fucking sexy,” he praised as kissed your shoulder. “Bet you can take four,” he said before he eased another finger in you despite your whine. “You feel so fucking good stretched out around Daddy’s fingers, baby,” he praised you breathlessly, his cock painfully hard against your ass.

Your jaw was slack as you focused on his fingers, still so sensitive from the first one. When he pinched your nipple again, it sent you over the edge and you came on his fingers, harder than the first as you gripped the edge of the tub tightly and rocked your hips against his hand.

“Good girl,” Anders praised and drew your high out as long as he could, slowing his fingers as he fucked you through it. “You’re so good for me.” His praise always made you feel warm and once you were able to catch your breath, you mouthed at his jaw, bolding biting his pulse point and pulling a low growl from him before you pulled back to tell him, “need you to fuck me, Daddy. I can feel your hard cock against my ass and I need to feel it inside me.”

Slowly, he pulled his fingers from you and squeezed your hip. “Ride me,” he told you. “Ride Daddy’s cock, it’s yours.”

The water sloshed over the edge of the tub as you turned around and straddled him, your skin flushed and eyes dark. You could feel him hard and heavy against you and you smirked as you reached between you to stroke him, watching as his jaw went slack. His groan was low and his grip tightened on your hip. “Don’t tease me, baby,” he warned you, and you knew better than to go against one of Daddy’s warnings.

You gave him another few strokes before you lifted yourself up and slowly sunk down on him. It took you a moment because of the sheer size of him, even after all these years, but you were so warm and wet and tight around him. His moan was rough and it made you flutter around him as you looped your arms around his shoulders, your chest pressed to his.

“Taking me so good,” he praised, his voice breathy and you moaned as you pressed your face into his shoulder. It took you a moment before you finally took all of him and you fluttered around his cock. No matter how many times you took him, you could never get over how big he was.

“So big, Daddy,” you moaned and bit his shoulder before riding him slowly. Anders helped guide your movements as he held your hips, slowly quickening your pace.

“Missed having a big cock in your little pussy, didn’t you, baby? Missed Daddy fucking you just the way you need,” he said with a smirk, pulling a long moan from you. You didn’t have to say it from him to know he was right.

“Fuck, Daddy,” you moaned as you nodded and you pushed him back against the back of the tub before planting your hands on his chest for leverage and set a quick pace you knew he liked, not caring as the water sloshed over the edge of the tub. “Love having your big cock in my pussy.”

You were rewarded with a loud moan as the water continued to cascade over the edge. “That’s right. You fucking love it. Take what’s yours,” he continued, looking at you with hungry eyes.

“Mine,” you told him and boldly scratched your nails down his chest. He was already yours and only yours and you knew he didn’t like to be marked, but you couldn’t help yourself as you rode him harder.

His grip tightened on your hips enough you knew there would be bruises tomorrow and crescent marks from his nails, but it only made you moan louder. You wanted every mark he’d give you, every reminder of who you belonged to.

“Yours, baby. I’m yours,” his eyes closed for a moment as he moaned. “Feel so fucking good,” he told you before he kissed you deeply. You moaned into his mouth as you trailed your hands up to his shoulders and your pace stuttered as he pressed his thumb to your clit. You broke the kiss as you moaned louder, your eyes closing as he continued to rub circles on your clit as you rode him and he groaned when you started to flutter around him.

“Daddy,” you whined, so close again.

“I know,” he nodded. “Go on, cum on Daddy’s cock, baby girl.” You moan his name as you nodded and a moment later you finally came around him, squeezing him tightly as you pressed your face into his neck. “Fuck,” he cursed, tightening his grip on your hips as he continued to guide your hips as you fluttered around him bringing him closer.

You clenched around him hard. “Daddy please,” you begged, so used and sensitive and you were sure that if he kept his pace up, you’d cum again.

“Please what?” He asked with a smirk, knowing damn well what you wanted but wanting to hear you say it.

“Daddy,” you whined again, fluttering around him.

“Tell me,” he commanded, his smirk growing. He wanted to hear you say it. Needed to hear you say it.

“Please fill me up, Daddy. Fill me up with your cum,” you whined, digging your nails into the meat of his shoulders.

“Fuck,” he moaned loudly and used his thumb to rub your clit again and feeling you flutter around him sent him over the edge. He moaned your name as he came, and you clenched around him at the warm feeling of him filling you up before you pulled him in for a kiss, needing everything he’d give you. It was slower than the other kisses and you let yourself melt into it, into him, as you both rode out the high.

You gasped sharply when Anders continued to rub your clit, wanting another one from you, and you pulled back from the kiss to look at him with wide eyes but he only smirked. “I know you were closer,” he explained, rubbing your clit slowly. “One more for Daddy, okay, baby girl?”

“I—” You whined before you could get the words out and clenched down on his cock. “Daddy please.”

He only hummed, “Daddy’s taking care of you, just one more, baby.”

You closed your eyes as you rested your forehead against his, your breathes shallow as you got closer and closer, so raw and sensitive it was almost too much. Your moans turned to whines as you came for the fourth time. It wasn’t as intense as the others, but it was just as good as you came on your husband’s cock, and this time when you rested your head on his shoulder to catch your breath, he wrapped his arms around you, keeping you flush against him as he rubbed your back.

“Good girl,” he whispered. “Always such a good girl for me.”

You hummed at the praise and let your hands rest on his sides, tracing small circles on the softness of his tummy which you loved so much. “The water is all dirty now. And cold,” you said once you finally caught your breath and you could feel it as he laughed.

“It is,” he agreed and slowly pulled you off him, hushing you as you whimpered when his cock slipped out of you. “Quick wash and then I’ll take you to bed, okay?” You nodded and moved with him as he reached for the body wash and a cloth.

He was gentle as he ran the cloth over you, starting with your arms, going up to your shoulders before dipping under your arms and down your chest. He paid special attention to your chest as he washed you, and when he smiled at your whimper, you gave his chest a shove. His laugh made your chest warm and he held the cloth in his hand as he looked at you, so incredible in love with you. Not a day went by he didn’t think about how lucky he was to have you.

“I missed you,” you said after a moment and softly played with the hair at the base of his skull.

“I missed you, too,” he replied softly, and ran the cloth down your back. “I’m glad to be home.”

“I’m glad you are, too,” you smiled and gave him a little shove as he squeezed your ass, making him laugh again. “Shush, and finish washing me so we can go to bed. I’ve missed my teddy bear.”

Anders scrunched his nose up at the nickname you gave him ages ago and buried his nose into your hair making you laugh. God, your laugh was his favourite sound. Or maybe second favourite behind you moaning his name. “Okay, okay,” he resigned with a nod and trailed the cloth down to your thighs and then your core, murmuring a soft apology knowing the cloth was rough and you were sensitive, and then he finally trailed the cloth along your ass cheeks. He wrung the cloth out in the water before adding some more soap and washed himself, not that he devoted himself the same attention as he did you. He’d shower in the morning anyway and he was sure he didn’t smell like the plane anymore. “Okay,” he nodded when he was done and he gave your hip a little tap. “Teeth and bed, yeah?”

You hummed as you nodded and slowly untangled yourself from him. Between your legs was sore as you stepped out of the tub, making you wince, but it was a good sore, a sore you missed every time your husband was on the road. You grabbed your towel from the rack and wiped yourself down as you heard Anders pull the plug on the tub before stepping out of it and you handed his towel to him.

“Thank you,” he nodded as he took it from you, wiping down his chest before wrapping the towel around his waist. Drops of water still ran down the valley of his chest, down his tummy and into the towel and you bit your lip as you looked at him. If you weren’t so tired, you’d fuck him again once you got to bed. “What?” He asked as he looked at you.

“Nothing,” you smiled as you shook your head. “I love you.”

He didn’t believe you, but he smiled as he nodded. “I love you, too,” he told you before stepping closer so he could kiss you. The kiss was chaste compared to your other kisses that evening but you loved it just as much. You loved every kiss and moment you got with him.

When you pulled back from the kiss, Anders chased your lips, making you laugh as he kissed you again before you tapped his chest. “Enough, okay? I want to go to bed, my hips ache, Mr Big Dick.”

“Mr Big Dick?” Anders laughed and playfully tugged at the edge of your towel so it would fall, but you quickly retucked it above your chest. “Guess that makes you Mrs Big Dick, huh?”

“Shut up,” you replied, not that shaking your head did anything to hide your smile as you wet your toothbrush and put toothpaste on it before moving the tube over to Anders’ side of the vanity and beginning to brush your teeth. Anders followed your lead and once you were both done, he leaned against the vanity as you went through your skincare routine again, the first time basically all for not after your recent activities. “You could go get the bed ready,” you told him after you washed your face but he scrunched his nose up again.

“Gotta stay and watch my girl, make sure you don’t fall on the way to the bed.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled as you finished your skincare and you looked at Anders as you undid your towel and hung it back up on the rack before you bit your lip and walked back into the bedroom. You snickered as you heard Anders’ groan and you knew he was hot on your heels as you pulled the covers back and got in. 

You were right, Anders was right behind you and you squeaked as he wrapped his arm around you and pulled you back against his chest before quickly going limp in his arms. His hand rested on your stomach as he kept you flush against his chest and you smiled as you melted back against him, warm, comfortable, and safe. “My teddy bear,” you whispered and covered his hand with yours.

He hummed as he kissed your shoulder, loving the feeling of you against him. Having you in his arms was the happiest he’d ever be. “I love you,” he whispered back, making you smile.

“Love you more,” you replied and when he tried to argue, you gave him a soft, playful elbow to the ribs and laughed when he played up his wince. “Good night, Anders.”

“Good night,” he sighed and kissed your shoulder again. He held you as you drifted off, spent from the night and just when you were on the brink of sleep, he added, “and I love you more.” The grips of sleep already had you so you couldn’t argue with him and he smiled into your neck as you drifted off, him not far behind you.

[zuucc]

MORE THAN A VANVOUVER SUNSET: What if…

… Mat had given in?

Summary: What If Mat had given into Emma, that night in his car? What if he’d thrown his principles out the window and given into what they both wanted so badly? This story is a spin on what would’ve happened in Mat’s car that night after their trip to Sunset Beach - the trip that definitely was not a date - if Mat hadn’t been so stubborn, and so adamant about taking her on a date first.

Warnings: Smut, more cursing than actual sentences

Word Count: 3600 (including excerpt)

Author’s note: I wrote the first 50.000 words to More Than a Vancouver Sunset when I was supposed to be writing my bachelors thesis. That´s just about three years ago now, which is just mind blowing on its own. The fact that this story still spins through my head still, is maybe even worse? Anyways, I’ve got a week long exam and just like before, that makes me want to write everything but that. It´s not like MTAVS doesn’t have enough smut as it is, but banging my head against table has got me coming up with all kinds of shit. Needless to say - it’s spicy. I know I’m not really on here anymore, and for most people I’m just someone you’ll occasionally see on someone’s Mat Barzal, Tyson Jost or William Nylander fic rec list. I don’t even think half the people I used to talk to on here back then are still here, but I hope this finds someone who’s interested. And this could be read as a stand alone, you do not have to have read the 80k nightmare that is More Than a Vancouver Sunset to read this.

I hope you enjoy.

In cursive, you will find an extract from More Than a Vancouver Sunset, with what leads up to this story. If you haven’t read the full story - Mat has previously stated that Emma is not the kind of girl he’d just fuck, he would like to take her on a date first. He’s brought her to watch the sunset at the beach, but didn’t call it date out of fear. Though it really feels like a date to Emma and he did end up kissing her.

~

His hand started laced with hers, their fingers intertwined, resting in her lap as they began the drive back home. The conversation flowed freely, and it hit Mat square in the chest that though their lives had taken completely different paths after high school, they still shared many of the same experiences and they still had so much in common – hell they’d even ended up in the same city. Soon, his hand was gripping her thigh lightly and Emma’s own hand curled around his wrist, moving back and forth in a soothing manner. 

“I have to admit, my crush on you came back pretty quickly,” he hummed, looking over at her for a split second before he turned his attention back to the road ahead, causing Emma to laugh. 

“Yeah, a little faster than I’d like to admit,” she agreed, and Mat nodded along. He was pulling onto her street, but he didn’t want to let her go just yet. The digital clock on his dash had pushed past eleven and Emma’s parents’ house was dark when he pulled into the driveway. He turned the car off, already knowing that he wouldn’t just be saying goodbye and backing out again. He looked over at the beautiful girl sitting next to him, and she was already looking back at him. They both smiled, looking at each other for way too long before they both burst out in giggles. They’d talked non stop all the way back and now it seemed that they were both out of words. 

“Come here,” Mat chuckled, pulling her closer by her hand and meeting her halfway. They both smiled into the short kiss, their eyes meeting for a second before their lips did, though this time the kiss was loaded with all the sexual tension that had seemed to make the air thick all around them. Emma’s nose brushed against Mat’s before the kiss deepened, the open mouthed kiss sending warmth through both their bodies. While Emma slid her hands up his chest, Mat’s dropped to her thighs, his grip a bit tighter and moving a bit higher than where it had been on the way home. 

Mat hummed into the kiss when her hands slid back to his neck, her fingers instantly moving into his thick hair and curling into fists. Their tongues met in a slow slide against each other, sending a wave of want crashing between Emma’s thighs, as she moaned into the kiss – not even embarrassed at the sound, simply just wanting his lips on hers, or anywhere else on her body – that’d be fine too, and his hands roaming. Mat could feel his pants getting tighter with every kiss they shared and Emma seemed to get more impatient; little moans slipping past her lips, her fingers clenching in his hair, doing everything she could to press herself closer to him, only to be stopped by the center console. Mat reached for the little button on the side of his seat, taking his seat the last few inches back. 

“What are you doing?” Emma asked, not pulling far away, her lips still moving against his while she spoke. 

“Just come here,” he hummed, kissing her hard but quick as he placed one hand on the back of her thigh and the other sliding across her back to curl around her waist. He pulled her body closer to his before he simply lifted her over the center console with very little help and effort from Emma, letting her straddle his lap. That in itself had Emma grinding her hips down onto his immediately, making a groan escape his throat in unison with the moan she pressed against his mouth. 

“Fuck, Em,” Mat said, groaning into her kiss, his hands on her hips as she ground against him. The shortened version of her name falling from his lips along with his hardening member under her, hit her perfectly between her legs whenever she rolled her hips over his, and it was pushing her further along the road to desperation. His hands moved slowly up her sides as their lips slotted together, so slowly it nearly had Emma placing her hands on his to push them to where she wanted them most. He pulled away from her lips, his own glistening and swollen as he looked up at her with dark, lust-filled eyes. Emma looked back at him with the same look on her face, her lips parted as she tried to catch her breath. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly and Mat’s attention was caught, his hands finally covering her breasts. He kissed her deeply, but only for a few seconds before he started a trail down the side of her neck as Emma pushed her hair back out of the way for him. 

“Let me take you out on a date,” he spoke, his lips moving against the sensitive skin right beneath the line of her jaw. One of his arms wrapped around her waist while the other stayed on her boob, massaging it in his hand. Emma’s neck craned back to let him have as much space as possible, her hand fisted in his dark curls. 

“I thought this was a date,” She breathed, her body pressing against his, desperate to be with him – desperate to have him naked against her, desperate for him to be inside her. 

“No,” he said, shaking his head against her as he kept leaving kisses down her neck. Emma moaned as he found a particularly sensitive spot. She rolled her hips into his and she could feel him fully hard beneath her. She was sure the particularly nice thong she’d decided to wear was soaked through. 

“You don’t have to take me out first – before you fuck me,” she moaned, clenching her fist in his hair. The words falling from her mouth along with the pull of his hair had Mat groaning and pulling back from where he’d been leaving kisses on her skin.

“I’ll take you out – tomorrow,” he said, making Emma swallow hard. He really wasn’t going to fuck her tonight, and she didn’t know how to deal with the fire burning in the pit of her stomach. She pressed her forehead to his, closing her eyes. They were both breathing hard. 

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” she sighed, brushing her nose against his. Matt chuckled, kissing her lightly, but long enough to leave a tingle on her lips. 

“I’m sure you can feel what you’re doing to me,” he breathed, placing his hands on her hips and pushing her against him. A breathy moan fell from her lips, making a soft smile tug on his. 

“I’m so wet right now, I’ll probably leave a mark on your pants,” Emma told him, not even embarrassed about it. He was wearing a pair of dark green cargo pants that did wonders for both his ass and his thighs, so no, she wasn’t going to be embarrassed about leaving a mark on them. Not when he was making her feel like this. 

“You can’t just say that,” he groaned, letting his head fall back on the headrest. Emma smirked, trailing her fingers down his chest, towards his abs. Mat locked his gaze to her fingers, following them down his torso all the way until it slipped under his t-shirt. He looked up at her again as her hand flattened out over his abs. 

“And you can’t just look like this, and kiss me like that, and expect me to not be wet for you,” she dared, feeling brave and risky now. She was horny, and she’d practically begged for him to fuck her already, so she had nothing to lose. This time it was Mat who smirked.

“What made you decide to wear this dress tonight?” he asked, his smirk turning cocky as his hands moved from her hips to her thighs. Emma smiled, looking out the window for a second to compose herself. 

“I like the way it fits around my hips,” she grinned. He somehow managed to look even more smug than he already was with his fingers curling around the side of her thighs, pulling her just a little bit closer. 

“So, you did this on purpose?” he asked then, his hands moving back to her hips, but this time under her dress. His thumb rubbing back and forth on a spot right beneath one of the double bands on her thong, and then slipping under it just to tease. 

“I did – I even put on nice underwear for you,” she said. He could hear the hitch in her breath when he pulled his thumb away and let the band smack back on her skin. 

“You’re not even wearing a bra,” he smirked, having already figured that out when she climbed into the car hours ago now and he’d sure gotten it confirmed when he had his hands on her earlier, only feeling the thin material between his hands and her boobs. 

“Doesn’t mean I’m not wearing a nice pair of undies, though,” she smirked back, finding his smug expression faltering just a little bit. With his attention fully on her, Emma moved her hand out from under his shirt, finding the hem of her dress instead and lifting it just enough for him to see the white lace covering her most intimate part, and the two bands sitting high on her hips. 

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself, letting his hands fall back down to her thighs, his thumb sliding underneath the lacy fabric. He looked up to meet her stare, keeping eye contact as the finger slipped further down to where the material was actually soaked. Pushing the thong to the side, he let his finger slide through her slit, watching her as her mouth fell open and her eyes closed. 

“I thought you had to take me on a date first,” she breathed, letting her head fall to rest her forehead against his, her fingers finding their place in his hair again. 

“That was just before fucking you,” he smirked, though through his tone it was clear that he was nearly as affected as she was. Emma moaned as he slipped closer to her hole, almost falling against him. Their noses brushed against each other and their lips met just as he slid one long finger into her. The desperate moan vibrating against his lips sent blood rushing towards his dick, even if he’d been hard for a long time already and he could feel himself twitching in his pants. The moan that followed when he pressed another finger into her had him wondering what sounds she was going to make when he’d get to push his length into her. He would’ve fucked her right there in the front seat of his car if he hadn’t been so fucking stubborn. But there was the fact that he didn’t want to have sex with her for the first time in his car in her parents’ driveway. He wasn’t really much of a romantic, but he’d like to take his time with her – in a bed. 

“Fuck, Mat,” she groaned, her lips capturing his before she pushed her tongue against his. Oh, what she’d do to have his tongue between her legs right now. Mat loved the way she said his name, and he looked forward to hearing her moan it again as he placed his thumb on her clit and started rubbing circles. He started pumping his fingers in and out of her, her juices running down his fingers and making him want nothing more than to lick it all up. Her mouth fell open as he curled his fingers inside of her, her head falling back as a string of moans left her lips. 

“Just want to taste you, baby,” he mumbled as she gasped at the loss of his fingers, her eyes heavy as she followed them into his mouth, his lips locking around the two long fingers dripping with her arousal. The pet name sent another wave crashing through her body, and that, along with the sight of Mat licking her juices off his fingers, had her falling forward, her lips and tongue against his as soon as his fingers were pushing back inside her. The taste of herself mixed with what she learned was the taste of Mat, was something she could definitely get used to. 

“Oh my god,” she moaned against his lips, the feeling of his fingers deep inside her too much, yet far from enough all at the same time. She pulled away from his kiss and immediately reached for the straps of her dress that were tied in little bows on her shoulder, tugging at their ends and letting the front fall down to expose her bare chest.

“It’s too fucking hot in here,” she whined, flipping her hair over her shoulder. Mat’s lips hung slightly open, lips burning red and and glistening from kissing her. His eyes were dark and lustful, alternating between her face and her naked chest, her pink nipples begging him to touch them.

“You are unbelievable,” he mutters, more so to himself than to Emma. She grins, unsure if it’s her body or her persistence he’s referring to, but happy with herself either way. She grips his t-shirt in her fist and pulls him closer, pushing up on her knees in order to let him fit his mouth around her nipples. The moans erupting from her throat were so desperate that she’d normally be embarrassed, but she was desperate and she couldn’t care less in that moment.

“Fuck, Emma,” he cursed again. She’d started meeting him halfway as she fucked herself onto his fingers, meeting his knuckles as he thrusted the length of his fingers into her.

“You’re really making me do this, huh?” He asked, more so rethorically. His words were barely audible as he dragged his lips from one of her boobs to leave a trail of wet kisses up to her collarbones.

“What?” Emma breathed, too focused on the feeling that was filling her body and gathering into a big ball of pleasure in her lower stomach, begging to explode.

“You’re making me break my promise, baby,” he whispered, his lips having made their way up her neck, stopping right beneath her ear. He couldn’t take it anymore, he needed to be inside her. Never before had he wanted something so badly. Sure, he could make her come with his fingers, and she would be somewhat satisfied, but the way she was begging for him? It did things for his ego that he couldn’t really explain and he needed to give her what she wanted - what they both wanted. He’d never felt so wanted by anyone. And truthfully, it was starting to hurt with how incredibly hard she was making him.

“Fuck, really?” She nearly cried, gasping as he pulled his fingers out of her. His fingers were wet with her arousal, but neither of them cared when he placed both hands on her hips and pushed back on his thighs. He nodded to answer her question.

Emma hurried to get her hands on the waistband of his pants, opening the button and pulling down the zipper as fast as she could. Simultaneously, Mat slipped his thumbs into both his pants and his boxers, ready to pull them down as soon as she’d gotten them open. Emma cursed again as his erection finally sprung free and slapped against his abs - his t-shirt having ridden up ages ago.

“Fuck, Emma, come here,” he begged, reaching out to grab her hip to pull her closer with the one hand and finding the button on the side of his seat, reclining it in order to make the ordeal easier. It would’ve been easier to move to the backseat, or just sneak into Emma’s bedroom, but right now this just needed to happen as fast as possible. He needed to be inside her as fast as possible.

“Oh god,” Emma breathed as she maneuvered her legs in the tight space, watching him spit into his hand before wrapping it around his dick and lathering it up.

“Come,” he demanded, and Emma felt herself fall towards him. Her hands found his sturdy shoulders and she lifted herself up from his lap for him to finally line himself up with her opening.

“Fuck, Mat,” she sighed as he pulled her underwear aside and let his tip run through her slit. They both moaned in relief as she finally sunk down onto him.

“I just need you to know- fuck,” Mat started, but interrupted himself as she lifted herself off of him before quickly sinking back down. Emma wanted nothing more than to cover his lips with hers and just get lost in it, but it seemed like he needed to get something off his chest.

“I want you, in every single way,” he went on, stopping to breathe and curse to himself. His hands had found their way back to her, one hand on her hip and the other was gripping her ass, helping her keep a steady rhythm as she rode him.

“Not just like this. But god do I want this, too,” he managed to tell her. Emma’s lips spread into a wide smile, feeling full in every single sense of the word.

“Me too, Mat, me too,” she agreed, leaning her forehead to his and very willingly complying when he pressed his lips to hers. Everything that had happened between them up until then had happened fast, and so had this. But Emma knew it was right, even if it was absolutely terrifying at the same time. Emma’s fingers fisted into the thick locks of hair on the back of his head, and their tongues finally met. They made out desperately as their hips met repeatedly, Mat planting his feet into the floor of the car to be able to meet her hips every single time she came sinking down on him.

“I’m so close, Mat,” Emma sighed, adjusting her feet on the side of the seat to be able to up her speed.

“Me too, baby,” Mat agreed, letting his head fall back to watch her as she sat spread out on top of him, her chest glistening with sweat and her arousal having spread out on her inner thighs and Mat, too. One of her legs were extended over the middle console and into the passenger seat and that way Mat could see the way he was buried inside her, how he was covered in her juices. His thumb found its way to her clit and he watched her close her eyes in pleasure, her teeth clamping down on her bottom lip.

“Oh, god, now,” she cried, pushing herself forward to fall against him again. They’d never done this before, but somehow Mat knew what she meant. His arms wound around her, holding her close to him, as he thrusted up into her with all the power he had as she moaned and clawed herself to him - leaving marks on his shoulder as she finally came. He didn’t let go himself until he could hear her moans slowing down and coming to an end.

“Fuck, Mat, that was just… Wow,” Emma managed to say, still breathing heavily. She lifted her head from where she’d collapsed into his shoulder, a wide smile spreading on her lips when she pulled back and saw the one already on his lips.

“I know, I’m… I’m glad we did that,” he admitted, even though he had been so adamant on waiting til after he’d taken her on a date.

“Me too,” Emma laughed, relaxing into his lap again. The feeling of his softening dick inside her was warm and comfortable.

“To be fair, I really thought that was a date,” she grinned and Mat shook his head with an embarrassed smile on his lips. A blush crept up his already pink neck - Emma might not be able to see it with how hot they both were, but he could feel the blush settle on his neck and cheeks.

“It was supposed to be, but when I saw you this morning I just didn’t have the balls to call it that,” he admitted, his hands were running up and down the outside of her thighs as they spoke.

“You didn’t have to call it that, Mat. You didn’t have to say the word date for me to understand that the guy who’s been flirting with me for weeks and even told me that he wants to take me on a date and then fuck me, is asking me on a date when he’s asking me to come watch the fucking sunset at the beach. Like, I thought we’d established that I am quite smart a long time ago,” Emma laughed, and Mat had to cover his face with his hands as he laughed along. She was right, it definitely sounded like a date.

“So, if it makes you feel better, we can just say that it was a date,” she shrugged, smiling that gorgeous smile that Mat had been falling for every single time he’d seen her since he was assigned seats next to her in high school.

“Okay, fine. But I’m still taking you out tomorrow,” he grinned.

“I’m not gonna stop you,” Emma mirrored his smile, leaning forward to press her lips to his again.

“I meant it though, what I said about wanting everything, not just sex,” he reminded her, struggling to keep eye contact as he said it. It was important to him that she knew how he felt. She was more than just a one time thing.

“I know, Mat. Me too,” she said, kissing him once more.

“But I really do want the sex, too,” he smiled cheekily, making Emma throw her head back laughing.

“Me too,” she agreed, leaning in again for a deep kiss.

[nhlclover]

CINDY LOU WHO MAT BARZAL

pairing: fem!reader x mat barzal

summary: after an agonizing breakup drove you from the country you return to long island for the holidays. but a chance encounter at a holiday party forces you to confront not only your unresolved emotions from your past, but also the revelation that mat had moved on with someone new.

warnings: talks of a breakup, mat being extremely a little bit dumb, talks of marriage, appearances from sydney + matt martin

wc: 4.82k

notes: based on 'cindy lou who' by sabrina carpenter. my first barzy fic and it’ll rip your heart out😁

The frost clung to the edges of your breath as you stepped out of your car, staring at the warm glow spilling from the windows of the house, sitting amongst the backdrop of a familiar city. Despite a new sense of distance, there was something comforting about being back here, among friends, with the garlands and wreaths hanging just as they had every December before you left.

Back then, everything felt simpler. Or maybe it was just the illusion of simplicity, the way the lights blurred the edges of things when the snow fell thick and heavy. That was before the break-up — the one that fractured your world and sent you spiraling into an impulsive decision. England had felt like a lifeline, a clean slate, though the flight across the Atlantic had been more of a desperate escape than a planned move.

Long Island held too many memories: the late-night drives down the shore, the coffee shop where you had your first date, and the little bookstore you stumbled into during a summer rainstorm. It wasn’t just the places; it was the people. Friends who knew too much. Strangers who seemed to know enough. It was suffocating, the way they all looked at you with pity when they thought you weren’t watching.

Being with Mat, Long Islands hockey star, meant living in a world where your private life was never truly private. Nearly four years together had built a life intertwined with his, marked by team gatherings, charity events, and being an active member of the Islanders community, where media and fans alike knew your name. Four years as Mat’s girlfriend had turned you into more than just yourself — you were part of a narrative. A love story people loved to romanticize, right up until it unraveled.

You’d known early on what you wanted — marriage, a family, a partner who shared your vision of the future. Mat loved you deeply, but when it came to tying the knot, he was hesitant. He didn’t know if he wanted to get married so soon, let alone at all. The conversations had been difficult. What started as tentative questions turned into heated arguments, and eventually, into something far heavier: the realization that this might be something the both of you couldn’t work past.

The break was supposed to be temporary, a chance to clear your heads and figure out if you could reconcile your hopes. But time apart didn’t bring clarity — it brought distance. Weeks turned into months, spent away from each other. You’d waited for a sign that Mat had changed his mind, that he’d decided your love was worth the risk of stepping into a future he couldn’t fully envision. But that moment never came.

Instead, you found yourself drifting further away, until one day, it hit you: you weren’t waiting anymore. Not for Mat. Not for the life you’d imagined together. The realization came with a sharp finality, one that sent you packing for England on a whim. Across the ocean, there was no history, no lingering reminders of what might’ve been — just a fresh start.

Yet, Long Island still had its pull. It wasn’t the lights or the traditions of the holidays that had rolled around, though they held their charm. It was your family, their persistent calls, their unspoken hope that a few weeks at home might be good for you. You told yourself it was just temporary, a chance to reconnect and recharge before returning to the quiet anonymity of England. But stepping off the plane, you felt the weight of nostalgia settling on your chest.

Your childhood home smelled of pine and cinnamon, the same way it always did this time of year. Your parents, ever nostalgic and sentimental, kept your bedroom a time capsule of your teen years, down to the posters peeling slightly at the corners and the worn-out bookshelf crammed with novels. It was strange, being back in this space as someone who had grown beyond it. The familiarity was both comforting and unsettling, like putting on a sweater that didn’t quite fit anymore.

A day after your arrival came the call from Sydney. Word had gotten around that you were back — you blamed your mother for that. Her voice had been warm, tinged with excitement, but she’d tread carefully, as if wary of unearthing old wounds.

“You have to come,” she’d said, the invitation carrying the same enthusiastic charm you remembered from the years you’d spent as her friend. “It’s a small thing, just a bunch of us catching up before the chaos of Christmas really hits.”

You’d hesitated, your instinct to protect the delicate emotional state you’d cobbled together over the past year. But Sydney had always had a way of wearing you down. “It won’t be weird,” she promised. “Mat was invited, but he didn’t RSVP. He’s so bad at answering invites, but honestly, he’s been MIA lately. He probably won’t show.”

Her words were meant to be reassuring, and at the time, they had been. But now, standing in front of their decorated idyllic Long Island mansion, with the weight of familiarity pressing in on you, you weren’t sure if you were ready for the possibility of seeing him. Sydney and Matt’s party had been a staple during the holidays when you and Mat were together, a gathering of friends, teammates, and their significant others. Coming here meant stepping back into a world that had once felt like home but now felt foreign.

You inhaled deeply, the crisp air stinging your lungs as you smoothed down your coat. The snow crunched beneath your boots as you approached the door, and the muffled hum of music and laughter grew louder. Sydney greeted you the moment you stepped inside, her arms pulling you into a warm hug.

“Look at you! You look amazing!” she exclaimed, stepping back to take you in. Her radiant smile was genuine, and for a moment, you let yourself relax. “I’m so glad you came.”

The house was just as you remembered it: garlands draped along the staircase, twinkling lights wound through every corner, and the scent of pine and cinnamon filling the air. Familiar faces turned toward you, some smiling, others with expressions of surprise. There were hugs, quick exchanges of “it’s been too long,” and the inevitable question, “How’s England?”

You answered politely, sharing anecdotes about your new life while carefully steering clear of the topic everyone probably wanted to ask about: Mat. You didn’t need to look around the room to know he wasn’t there. You would’ve felt it — the almost magnetic pull he seemed to have, even when you tried to ignore it.

The night unfolded like a nostalgic montage, full of laughter and rekindled friendships. As you caught up with familiar faces, it felt like no time had passed, like no distance had been shoved between everything you once knew. Sydney was an impeccable hostess, darting between guests but always circling back to you, her voice brimming with excitement over every little update you shared. It was easy to forget, for a time, the reasons you’d hesitated to come. You caught up with old friends, indulged in festive treats, and even found yourself laughing at stories you hadn’t thought of in years.

Matt, Sydney’s husband and Mat’s teammate, joined you two in the living room, his hearty laugh filling the room as he recalled an embarrassing moment from a long-ago road trip. It felt good, almost normal. For the first time in a long time, you felt like maybe you could exist in this space again, untethered from the weight of your shared history with Mat.

But then, a commotion from the front hall shattered the fragile peace.

Voices rose in unison, cheers and exclamations ringing out. “He’s here!” someone shouted, followed by a ripple of excitement that surged through the crowd. Your stomach tightened as the energy in the room shifted. Sydney exchanged a quick glance with you, her lips parting as if to say something, but before she could, you caught sight of him.

He stepped into view, his face unmistakable even amidst the crush of people greeting him. The years had softened some edges and sharpened others. His jawline was softer and less defined, the faintest trace of scruff along his chin. His hair, still dark and unruly, was shorter than he ever had it when you were together. And his eyes — those deep, expressive eyes — swept the room in a way that made your breath catch.

But he wasn’t alone.

A tall, striking blonde was tucked against his side, her arm looped through his. She was stunning, her lipstick a bold red that stood out against her crisp white trench coat. She leaned into him, smiling warmly at the people around them, and you didn’t need to hear the introductions to know who she was.

“Cindy,” Sydney whispered, confirming your silent dread. “They’ve been seeing each other for a while. She’s… nice.”

Nice. The word hit like a dull thud. You barely managed a nod, swallowing the lump rising in your throat. The warmth you’d felt earlier seemed to evaporate, replaced by a cold, sinking sensation in your chest.

“I need to get out of here,” you murmured, your voice tight as you turned toward Sydney.

She caught your arm gently, her grip firm but understanding. “Don’t,” she pleaded. “Please, just stay. You don’t have to talk to him. Avoid him if you need to. But I’ve missed you so much, and the team’s not the same without you. You said we’d catch up, remember?”

Her words tugged at your determination. You couldn’t deny how much you’d missed Sydney, how much you’d missed being part of this circle that had once felt like family. And yet, staying felt like stepping on a live wire, every moment charged with the potential for pain.

You nodded, the weight of Sydney’s words pressing against your reluctance. You’d promised her you’d stay, and part of you knew leaving now would only make everything harder. Still, you resolved to avoid Mat at all costs, to slip through the cracks of the party like a ghost.

The first hour wasn’t difficult. The house was large, full of nooks to retreat to and people to talk to. Every time you felt Mat's presence encroaching into the room, you quietly slipped away. When he moved to the kitchen, you migrated to the living room. When he lingered by the staircase, you found solace near the fireplace.

You clung to the edges of the room, weaving in and out of conversations just enough to seem engaged, but always slipping away before he got too close. Each time you caught a glimpse of him, your stomach twisted. He looked good — better than you remembered. It was unfair, the way time had seemed to sharpen his features, like it had been kinder to him than it had to you.

And then there was Cindy. She wasn’t just stunning — she was confident, poised, with a natural ease that made her the center of attention without trying. Watching her was like witnessing a carefully crafted version of the life you’d once lived, a life that had moved on without you.

You couldn’t stay in one place for too long. The walls felt like they were closing in, the air too warm and stifling despite the winter chill outside. You moved from room to room, dodging conversations that veered too close to the past, smiling politely but never letting your guard down.

But then, the spaces began to run out. The house wasn’t as big as it felt at first, and the guests were everywhere. You’d exhausted the kitchen, the den, and even the hallway by the coat rack. Finally, with nowhere else to go, you found yourself slipping out onto the porch, the cold biting into your skin through the thick knit sweater you wore.

The porch was quiet, the muffled sounds of the party fading behind the door. Snow was falling softly now, delicate flakes catching in your hair and melting against your skin. You leaned against the railing, your breath forming little clouds in the air, and tried to focus on the stillness of the night. The cold seeped into your bones, but it was a welcome contrast to the heat and tension inside.

You weren’t sure how long you stood there, staring out at the blanket of snow covering the lawn. Long enough for your fingers to go numb and your cheeks to sting. The quiet was a balm, but it wasn’t enough to dull the ache inside you.

The sound of the door sliding open softly pulled you from the brief daydream that consumed you, and you didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. The hesitant shuffle of shoes against snow got closer, then his voice cut through the silence, quieter than usual.

“Hey.” Mat spoke.

You froze at the sound of his voice, the word hanging in the air like a weight you couldn’t quite lift. Your heart skipped a beat, your breath catching in your chest. You didn’t want to turn around, didn’t want to face him yet, but your body betrayed you, slowly pivoting to see him standing just a few steps away.

Up close, the changes in Mat’s appearance became much more noticeable. You could see just how different he looked — older, in a way. The sharp edges of his jaw had softened, and his hair, though shorter, still had that messy quality that made you want to run your fingers through it. But what hit you hardest was the look on his face — uncertainty, maybe guilt, but there was something else there too, something you couldn’t place.

He stood there for a moment, unsure whether to close the distance or wait for you to speak. You felt the awkward tension between you both, thick enough to cut. He didn’t know what to say to you. You didn’t know what to say to him.

“Hi,” you finally said, the word tasting strange on your tongue. It felt like you were saying it to someone you barely knew anymore. The woman he’d left behind was still standing there, but the version of her that had once known him inside and out was now a stranger to herself, too.

“I didn’t mean to disturb you,” he said quietly, his eyes shifting away from yours, as though he didn’t want to intrude on your space, but couldn’t quite bring himself to leave.

You nodded, your throat tightening. “It’s fine. Just needed some air,” you replied, your voice calm, though you were sure it didn’t match the chaos spinning inside you.

Another long pause passed, and you could feel the weight of everything unsaid hanging between you. He shifted on his feet, as if trying to find the right words. He didn’t speak again, and you weren’t sure what you were waiting for — for him to apologize? For him to explain? For him to say something that would make sense of all the things that had happened?

Then, just as you thought the silence was becoming unbearable, the door opened again. Cindy slipped out onto the porch, her arms wrapping around her torso tightly. “Hey, there you are.” she said, her voice warm and sweet.

Mat’s face shifted, a moment of hesitation passing through his eyes. He turned to Cindy, who was standing there with a bright, welcoming smile, unaware of the tension that had already settled in. Mat hesitated for a beat, as if he was trying to find the right words to introduce you, the person who had once meant everything to him, to the woman who now filled that space.

“Cindy, this is y/n,” he said, his voice tight, “y/n… this is Cindy, my…”

Mat’s voice trailed off as his gaze got stuck on you. You could see the thoughts rushing through his mind as the words got trapped in his throat. Cindy stepped forward, finishing his sentence for him with a laugh, her tone light and playful. “His fiancée!” she said, her smile gleaming bright in the porch lights. “I think Mat is still getting used to the title!”

Fiancée… Fiancée… Fiancée.

The word fiancée echoed in your mind, drowning out everything else. It was like a punch to the gut, a slap of cold reality that stung with more force than the night air ever could. The way Cindy smiled, the way Mat looked at her — there was no mistaking it. This was real. He was engaged. To her.

You tried to breathe, but the air felt heavier now, thick with a weight that pressed against your chest. You’d never imagined him moving on so quickly, not after everything that had happened, not after the promises and hopes you’d once shared. You had walked away, yes, but you had done so believing, in some quiet part of yourself, that maybe, just maybe, the door wasn’t completely closed. Maybe Mat would change his mind, maybe time apart would make him see things differently. But standing here, in front of him, in front of Cindy, it all came crashing down.

The confusion tangled with something else, something darker. Anger. It flared up inside you, hot and sharp, burning through the numbness you’d carefully cultivated. Mat had told you he didn’t want to get married. He had said it over and over again — he wasn’t ready, and didn’t think he ever would be, not seeing marriage in the future he’d envisioned. And you had believed him. You had let go of a future with him, moved halfway across the world to escape it, to build something new. But now here he was, with a woman he was so obviously ready to commit to, ready to marry.

How could he?

You could feel the bitterness crawling up your throat, but you swallowed it back, offering a tight smile to Cindy as she stepped closer, oblivious to the storm raging inside you. Mat’s gaze flickered between the two of you, his unease palpable. You wondered if he saw it — the hurt — but didn’t know how to address it.

“Nice to meet you,” you said, your voice steady but strained. The words tasted like ash, each syllable carrying the weight of everything unspoken, everything that had been left behind. “And, uh, congratulations.”

Cindy beamed, clearly unaware of the complex undercurrents swirling between you and Mat. “Thank you! It’s been a whirlwind, but in the best way.” Her fingers brushed against Mat’s arm, the small gesture so natural and intimate it made your stomach churn.

“I can imagine,” you managed to say, gripping the railing a little tighter. The air around you felt suffocating now, despite the cold. You needed an exit, a reason to leave before the fragile façade you’d constructed cracked.

Cindy pressed on as she mistook your smile for interest. “Yeah, who would’ve thought that a girl from Arizona would wind up getting married to a hockey player!” she laughed, her arm hooking around Mat’s. “I mean, it was such a funny coincidence — I was out with some friends, and Mat was there on a road trip with the team. We just hit it off right away.” She laughed lightly, oblivious to the way your grip on the railing tightened. “It’s crazy to think that was just two years ago now. Time flies, doesn’t it?”

The words hit you like a sucker punch. Two years ago? You did the mental math, your mind immediately circling back to the timeline. Arizona. A road trip with the team. Two years ago. It aligned too perfectly with the so-called “break” you and Mat had taken — the time you were supposed to spend figuring things out, deciding if your future together was salvageable.

Your heart pounded as the pieces clicked into place. He hadn’t just moved on; he’d started over with Cindy while you were still clinging to the hope of reconciliation. The realization stung, bitter and raw. While you had agonized over every phone call he didn’t make, every moment of silence that stretched too long, he’d been out meeting someone new.

Mat’s eyes flicked to yours, his expression tight, as if he knew exactly what you were piecing together. For the first time, Cindy’s presence didn’t seem to ground him. Instead, he looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but here.

“That’s… great,” you said, forcing the words past the lump in your throat. Your voice felt distant, as if it belonged to someone else entirely. “I’m glad you two found each other.”

Cindy beamed again, utterly unaware of the turmoil behind your words. “Thanks! I mean, it’s wild, right? Sometimes things just fall into place when you least expect them to.” She leaned into Mat, who gave her a small, absent smile that didn’t reach his eyes. Cindy tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. “So, how do you two know each other? I thought I knew all of Mat’s friends, but then again he knows so many people.”

You opened your mouth to say something but nothing would come out. What should you even say? Tell the truth and say you and Mat used to date? Tell her that you were so head over heels for him, that you wanted to marry him, before he broke your heart and drove you from the country? Or should you lie, and just tell her you two don’t really know each other at all? After all, that wouldn’t be so far from the truth. You weren’t sure you really knew him at all.

But before you could come up with something to say, whether it was a lie or the truth, Mat spoke up, his voice tight but composed. “Y/n’s an old friend.”

Old friend. The phrase hung in the air, feeling both false and insulting. Once, you’d been everything to him, and now you were reduced to a generic label that erased the depth of your shared history. You bit back a sharp retort, unwilling to unravel in front of Cindy, who smiled, oblivious to the tension.

“That’s lovely!” Cindy said, her eyes lighting up. “It’s always nice to meet those who knew Mat before I did.”

You offered a faint smile, trying not to let her words sting. She wasn’t at fault. She was simply living in a story that had once been yours.

Mat shifted uncomfortably beside her, his hands buried deep in his coat pockets. His eyes flickered toward you again, but you refused to meet his gaze, focusing instead on Cindy’s eager expression.

“Well,” Cindy said after a beat, sensing the awkward tension but clearly unsure of its source. “I should probably get back inside before I freeze out here.” Cindy offered you another warm smile before turning back to Mat. “Come on, babe,” she said softly, tugging at his arm.

“I’ll be in soon,” Mat said, his voice quieter now. Cindy hesitated for a moment, her gaze lingering on him, before nodding.

“It was really nice meeting you, y/n.” She smiled warmly, then leaned up to press a quick kiss to Mat’s cheek before disappearing back into the house, leaving the two of you alone on the porch.

The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the faint sound of music and laughter drifting through the closed door. Mat stayed where he was, a few steps away, his hands still shoved in his pockets as he stared at the ground. You didn’t move, your heart pounding in your chest as you waited for him to speak.

Finally, he broke the silence. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “Yeah, well, surprise.”

Mat flinched at your tone, his jaw clenching as he looked up at you. “I didn’t mean for it to be like this.”

“Like what?” you shot back, your voice sharper than you intended. “Awkward? Painful? Completely humiliating? Which part, Mat?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t plan on this happening tonight. I—” He hesitated, searching for the right words. “I didn’t know how to tell you.”

You folded your arms across your chest, trying to shield yourself from the biting cold — or maybe from him. “Didn’t know how to tell me what, Mat? That you’re engaged? That you’ve managed to figure out what you want after telling me for years that you didn’t want marriage? Or is it just that you didn’t want it with me?”

His face tightened, and for a moment, he looked like he was about to say something, but no words came. The silence between you stretched unbearably.

“You could’ve told me,” you pressed, the anger bubbling beneath your skin now impossible to hold back. “You could’ve been honest. About her. About what you wanted. But instead, you let me walk away thinking…” You trailed off, shaking your head as your throat tightened. “Thinking it was me. That I was asking for too much. That I didn’t matter enough for you to even try.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Mat said finally, his voice low. “I didn’t know what I wanted back then. I was confused.”

“Confused?” you repeated, your voice rising slightly as you turned to fully face him. “You told me — over and over — that marriage wasn’t something you ever wanted. You were so certain, Mat. I believed you. I left because I thought I was respecting what you needed, and now…” You gestured toward the house, toward the life he’d built without you. “Now you’re engaged to someone else.”

Mat rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes avoiding yours. “Things… changed,” he muttered, almost apologetically.

You let out a hollow laugh, blinking back the sting of tears. “Changed? Just like that? Or was it never about marriage? Was it just that you didn’t want to marry me?”

The question hung in the air, raw and vulnerable, cutting through the tension like a blade. Mat’s head shot up at your words, his eyes wide with something like guilt — or was it regret? He opened his mouth, then closed it again, his silence more damning than anything he could have said.

“That’s what I thought,” you said softly, the weight of his non-answer crushing you. You turned back toward the railing, gripping it tightly as you fought to steady your breathing.

“It wasn’t about you,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “I loved you — God, I loved you so much. But back then, I didn’t know if I could be the person you needed me to be. I didn’t know if I could… give you everything you wanted.”

You swallowed hard, your breath fogging in the cold night air as you turned back to face him. “But you figured it out for her,” you said quietly, the words cutting both ways. “You found a way to be that person for Cindy.”

Mat didn’t respond, and the silence that followed felt like the final nail in the coffin. You nodded to yourself, the last flicker of hope extinguishing in your chest.

“I need to leave,” you said abruptly, stepping away from the railing.

“Wait,” Mat said quickly, reaching out as if to stop you, but you took a step back, keeping the distance between you.

“I’m happy for you, Mat,” you said, your voice steady despite the tears threatening to spill. “Really, I am. You and Cindy… you deserve to be happy.” You took a shaky breath, your lips trembling as you forced a small, sad smile. “But I can’t do this. I can’t stand here and pretend this doesn’t hurt. Because it does. It hurts like hell.”

Mat’s hand dropped back to his side, his face a mix of regret and helplessness. “I never wanted to hurt you,” he said softly.

“I know,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. “But you did.”

You turned and walked away, each step feeling heavier than the last. As you reached the door, you paused for a moment, glancing back over your shoulder. Mat was still standing there, his shoulders slumped, his breath visible in the cold air. For a brief moment, you thought he might say something — anything — to stop you. But he didn’t.

With a final, resolute step, you slipped back into the warmth of the house, the sound of laughter and music washing over you like a distant echo. You grabbed your coat, said a quick goodbye to Sydney, and left before anyone could stop you.

Outside, the snow had started to fall more heavily, covering the world in a soft, quiet blanket. You stood by your car for a moment, staring up at the dark sky, the cold air stinging your cheeks. It was over.

As you slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine, you made a silent vow to yourself: no more looking back. England was waiting for you, and with it, the life you had started to build — a life that wasn’t tied to Mat or the dreams you had once shared. It wasn’t the ending you had hoped for, but maybe it was the one that was best for you.

[huuuuughes]

First Time Feeling - Mat Barzal x Reader

Pairing: Mat Barzal x Fem!Reader

Word count: 6.4k

Warnings: so much fluff, did i go overboard? maybe lol

A/N: this was my first time participating in a fic exchange and i honestly had so much fun. this is for the summer fic exchange 2k24 hosted by the lovely @wyattjohnston. it is written for the also fantastic @ahockeywrites! i am your friendly neighborhood exchange writer. i hope you enjoy it as much as i did writing it!

also i used google translate for the french. pls dont come for me if its not right im doing my best

It’s that time of year, when hockey pauses and every hockey player you know has a wedding because they scarcely get to have them in season. Growing up a coach's daughter, you were not unfamiliar with NHL weddings, and it meant your best friends were other kids from the organization your dad was in at the time. Now that you were getting to be that age it meant everyone you knew was having weddings.

Except you.

You were the one single person remaining in the bridal party for your best friend. Everyone did their best to try and include you without making it feel like third wheeling but sometimes it felt like that anyway. It wasn’t like they could help it and you were always happy for them. Weddings just seemed to rub salt in a wound now. Being alone scared you more than a lot of things. Which is why you were taking this bachelorette weekend to let loose and have fun. At least more than you usually let yourself. Your ability to do shots at a fast pace and without hesitation got you to that buzzed feeling a little too quickly.

But everyone was having fun. The band that was playing for the bar was insanely good and every song kept making you wanna dance. You managed to drag a few of your friends out onto the dance floor with you and it was the first time you felt free in a very long time.

“We’re gonna go get a drink, do you want something?!” Hannah attempts to yell over the volume of the music.

“YEAH, just water is good! Thanks!” You didn’t want to leave the dance floor- you were having a really good time. You let the music be your happy place for the moment, forgetting any problem you had before coming in the door. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed a trio of men looking at you. And then you have to do a double take, because you’d just seen those same 3 men at the previous bar, and the one before that…

Moving to a different spot on the dance floor didn’t seem to help. Hannah still wasn’t back from the bar and you were starting to think that these creeps were trying to form some kind of blockade. It was unsettling, but your usual fears were blurred by the alcohol that was currently coursing through your veins. You had forgotten there was a reason you didn’t like to drink that often. Then there was a tap on your shoulder, and as you turned around one of them was right there.

“You wanna dance sweetheart?” He screamed in your ear.

“No thanks! Just waiting for a friend!”

“I don’t see that friend anywhere right now, why don’t you want to dance?” Attempting to get closer to you, he moved forward causing you to back up into a stranger. Another one of his friends, you discovered, once you saw the first one smirk like there was some kind of inside joke that you weren’t in on.

“I said no.”

“That’s not what that outfit says.”

“Get away from me you fucking creep.” Your voice was firm, attempting to just go back to having fun. You closed your eyes, trying to let the music flow through you again. When you opened them there was yet another man coming at you, but this one didn’t feel threatening. He looked familiar, like you had maybe seen him before in passing. You couldn’t place it sober, and you definitely couldn’t in the current state you were in. He was making a beeline for you, pushing the first creep out of his way and almost onto the ground.

“Holy shit babe, there you are!You, my love, are too drunk! Time to go home!” Before you knew it he was reaching for your waist and your feet were no longer touching the ground. He throws you over his shoulder like you were nothing but a paper weight. Instead of the panic you should have felt, you relaxed over him. You didn’t fight the motion, it felt good to just stop for a moment. But then you realized that you really didn’t know who this was either and you just let a strange man pick you up and carry you out of the dance floor area.

“UM YEA HI, WHO ARE YOU?” You attempted to yell at him but the music was still loud. He either didn’t hear you or chose not to respond because you didn’t receive a response.

“Excuse me! Sir! I demand to know who you are please!”

Still nothing from him. He was like a big brick wall.

“JUST BECAUSE I'M SMALL DOESN'T MEAN YOU CAN JUST MAN HANDLE ME.”

But then you were on the ground again. It had felt like years before he set you down again but when he did you were once again reunited with your friends. You finally had a chance to get a good look at the stranger who carried you. He was definitely over six feet tall, and was honestly the hottest man you’d ever seen in your life. His eyes were a soft brown color that you could almost drown in. His hair was also brown, and fell in different directions all over his head. The expression on his face was a neutral one, but you felt drawn to him.

“Girl holy shit, why didn’t you tell us those creeps were still following you?!”

“Stop shouting at him babe, you are FINE!”

“You guys failed to mention your friend was such a chatterbox when she’s intoxicated.” The man laughed, but you could barely focus on anything with the way the world seemed to be swaying about.

“Thanks so much Mat, for rescuing our friend. She’s kind of key to the wedding festivities this weekend.”

“No problem. I hope your night gets better from here. Tell Coach I said hi. Maybe I’ll see you this weekend ladies.” He winked, like he knew he was going to but was just saying that to be clever. He looked like he felt accomplished about your frustrated state. As if he found it cute or endearing that you were so small yet had so much anger.

“You know she’s single Mat!” One of your friends interjected. And with that the handsome stranger who now had a name walked off and out of the bar, and you wondered who his friends were. You watched as a smile broke out on his face again, as if he was thinking hard about the proposition just said to him.

“Have a safe night ladies.” He lifted his head in a nod and you watched him walk out of the bar and out of your sight.

Everyone in your group had also decided that they had enough for the night and you booked it back to your hotel. The wedding was in 2 days, and the rehearsal dinner is tomorrow evening. Tonight was the last night to let loose and perhaps you had come too loose.

The next morning…

Your head was pounding. Opening your eyes was a no go, the light too painful to look at. It was like your entire head was pulsing. Liquor should definitely not be mixed with any other type of alcohol, you thought.

“WAKEY WAKEY BITCH, UP AND AT EM!” The bride came into your room, clearly more ready to tackle the day than you were.

“Oh my god Hannah. STOP YELLING. My head is killing me…” you groaned.

“Oh I know, I was there too, bestie. I’ve brought Tylenol and water, and there’s breakfast in my room. Oh and here’s some sunglasses. Those might help for a bit.” She thrust all of the items in your arms and helped you sit up without dying.

“Come on, we have a bridal party meeting, maid of honor!”

You loved Hannah, you really did, but if she didn’t lower her volume you thought your head might explode. After a quick shower, some meds, and an outfit change you were ready for the bridal party meeting there was to be had. When you walked into the room it was a mixture of excitement and groaning. All of the bridesmaids looked like they’d been through it, but the groomsmen were relaxed. The groom had his party a few weeks ago, just in case any shenanigans ensued.

“There she is!”

That voice. You knew that voice…God why did you know that voice?

You almost dropped the plate of food in your hands. When you turned around the shock of who it was rendered you speechless. It was the man who carried you across the bar last night. The man you thought you’d never see again after that embarrassing spectacle you’d caused. The memory was slowly coming back to you, and you really, really hoped there wasn’t video evidence.

“Good to see you survived your journey home.” He smirked.

“Wait! Do you know Mat?!” Clutterbuck asked. You knew Cal from your dad’s years in the league. You knew most of the people in the room, but Mat had been a pretty private guy. You didn’t really know much about him other than he was damn good at hockey and had pretty nice eyes. Since you only knew him in passing, you had never heard him talk much and drunk, you definitely did not recognize him. You felt like the blood had entirely drained from your face all you could think of was how quickly you could get out of that room.

“Apparently I do.” Your eyes tried to stay fixed on the ground as the meeting got started. It was basically just going over who was going to walk down the aisle with who and what everyone’s entrances would be for the reception.

“So, you’ll be with Mat. You guys good with that?” You locked eyes with your best friend. You knew exactly what she was doing. She was trying to play matchmaker without even asking you first. How would she even know if he was your type?

“I mean I-,” You stammered.

“Yeah, it sounds great to me.”

Finally you had to look at him. Of course he would say that, maybe he was in on it, you were being tortured by all of your friends. You had to begin lining up to practice, making sure you didn’t fall flat on your face and embarrass the bride. They all knew him, there was definitely an underlying motive. You had a feeling it was because they didn’t want everyone to pair up and you were left by yourself. It was a nice gesture, but being filled in would have felt nice so you did not in fact have a strange man picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder in a bar.

Being the maid of honor, you were last in the order to go. You waited patiently in the back of the line, the only one who was not linked in arms with their partner. Mat offered his arm to you, attempting to show some good will.

“You gonna take it?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

“No.”

“Listen, I’m sorry about last night. Your friends told me to come get you by whatever means necessary so that is what I did.”

“So you decided the only way was to pick me up with no warning? Who taught you to do that?” You threw your arms up in the air almost in defeat, you didn’t know what to make of what he did. You may have been drunk but you were never going to forget looking down at the ground when being carried across the room.

“I don’t know what you want me to tell you.” He shrugged and still somehow managed to look smug. He knows what he’s doing, and he definitely thought that he was being charming by doing so.

“I want you to tell me why you did that! All you had to do was grab my hand and lead me away!” You’d had enough of his games. You were going to get some answers before the night was over and done with.

“They all seem to know you, but I don’t. Why is that?” You had turned to face him, staring him down in order to get him to crack. It was almost your turn. You’d run into a slight issue when the bride decided she wanted to switch up the order of things before the honors of maid of honor and best man. All this meant was more time to get him to crack, which if he had known any better, would not take you very long. His resolve was weakening, and quickly.

“I’ve been around. You just haven’t noticed me.”

“I think I would have noticed you.” It would be hard to miss someone as pretty as he was. Did you really just admit that? Your dad hadn’t been with the Islanders for several years, but you still knew who most of the team was. Based on what you had managed to Google on the walk from the meeting to the present rehearsal location was that he was a pretty damn good hockey player.

“I don’t think so sweetheart. Your friends have told me all about you too, you know.”

“Oh yeah? What did they tell you?” You were almost angry but didn’t know why.

“Well for starters they just want you to be happy. They know you haven’t been happy for a little while now.” He smiled at you, and you tried not to melt in response. The way your body reacted so physically to him when all he did was smile was not something that you could ignore.

“And what else?” You prompted.

“My last relationship was some time ago, and let’s just say it didn’t end that well. They’ve noticed I haven’t been happy either.”

“You look happy to me.”

“Looks can be deceiving. The cameras and the media pick up only what they want to see.” This time he didn’t meet your eye. Which told you everything you needed to know. You would never understand how strangers and the media thought they knew someone just by what you see them do as an athlete. As if they don’t have personal lives or things that are important to them. Your suspicions were confirmed, but not in the way you thought. Of course your friends wanted to set you up with someone. Not to be funny or to try and make a joke, but they hated to see you so unhappy. Things were starting to make a little more sense.

“So you knew their motives?” You asked, feeling bad about how you had sort of gone at him without knowing why. You couldn’t undo the years of crappy guys that you had to deal with in the past, but now you could learn to give Mat a better chance.

“Partially. I knew they wanted to set me up with someone, but I don’t enjoy the anxiety of blind dates. They didn’t want me to say anything to you- they wanted to protect you. Based on your reaction I’m guessing you don’t enjoy surprises either.”

“Correct. So what would you like to do about this?” You asked, hopeful.

“I think we should see where the weekend takes us, and go from there. How’s that sound?”

You hoped that he couldn’t see the blush starting to appear in your cheeks. Your friends did this on purpose. They wouldn’t just set you up with some hockey player they didn’t know or trust, they knew he had to be vetted first. They also knew that you wouldn’t just take being set up with someone due to your stubbornness, so this was the only way they knew how to get to you.

“I’d like that.” His smile was infectious and you could feel yourself reciprocating.

Once the rehearsal dinner was figured out, the rest of the evening seemed to go as planned. Most importantly, the bride was happy. You noticed Mat across the room, smiling at you. You were alone at the bar, and watched him excuse himself from the conversation he was having to walk your direction.

“You wanna get out of here?” It was almost a whisper, so only you could hear it. You looked around the room to make sure that your absence wouldn’t be noticed.

“I thought you’d never ask.” You took the hand that he offered you and followed him out of the room. His car was already waiting, the perks of having the wedding on Long Island was a lot of the wedding guests already lived in the area.

“I feel like a teenager sneaking out when I’m not supposed to!” He held the door open for you as you slid in, and he climbed into the driver’s seat, “Where are you taking me sir?”

The sun was starting to set, making the sky an orangish pink color. It was like all of the colors of the sky melting together, painting a beautiful scene that no camera could ever do justice. He reached over and grabbed your hand as he began to drive. It looked like he was going nowhere in particular, and he squeezed your hand gently. You appreciated a first move when you saw one, it took the anxiety out of the way and you instantly felt more relaxed around him.

“There’s somewhere I want to show you. It’s not that far from here, is that okay?” You nodded. According to maps, the destination was only a few miles away. It was almost dark out, but not quite. The sun rested quietly in the sky, hovering just above the skyline ready to disappear. Mat still held your hand in his, gently squeezing every so often as if to reassure you of something but you weren’t quite sure what yet. When you arrived at your destination, there wasn’t another car to be seen. The only sound came from a distance, and then you looked around.

“Where are we?” You asked.

“Crescent Beach. I used to come here a lot when I first came to New York. The city can be overwhelming sometimes, but out here you can actually hear yourself think. The sunset’s here are something to behold, I’ve heard.” He held out his hand for you to take, and led you on to the beach. He had already grabbed two blankets from his trunk. You laughed a little bit, you always kept blankets and towels in the back of your car just in case too.

“It looks like we’re just in time for sunset.” Mat laid down one of the blankets on the sand. You were close enough to the water to be able to smell it, but not close enough that the tide could touch you. He placed the other blanket over the two of you, sitting down beside you after you got comfortable.

“The sky looks beautiful right now. I would have never thought a sunset in Long Island could look like this!” You closed your eyes for a second, taking in the smell of the ocean and the sound of the waves. It was the peace you were looking for during the wedding weekend.

“New York can be beautiful when it wants to be. You just have to know where to look.”

“I like to think that whenever there is a sunset this beautiful, it’s just someone you lost saying hello. Like a little wave from the sky, you know?” You asked him. He nodded, looking out across the horizon. “Tell me about you Mat.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Why did our friends want to set you up with someone?” You were curious.

“I’d been on and off with someone for a long time. It was unhealthy for me, and for anyone to be around me. Let’s just say I wasn’t always the most pleasant person. I want to start a family one day. With as much as players can move around, my home is with a person. Not a place or anything like that, if that makes any sense at all.”

“I was the same way with my dad. We moved around every few years, it felt like I could never really put down roots in one place.”

“What’s your favorite color?” He asked, seemingly out of nowhere.

“What does my favorite color have to do with anything?”

“It says a lot about a person to me.”

“You’re a little strange, has anyone ever told you that?” You both laughed, his was infectious.

“Just answer the question!”

You tell him your favorite color, smiling.

“Don’t you want to know what mine is?” He asked.

“Tell me.”

“It’s blue.”

“Like Islanders blue?”

“Any blue, but right now, blue like the ocean.” The breeze started to blow hard, quickly reminding you that you were in fact in New York, not a beach somewhere tropical. Mat was good at making you feel like you were somewhere else but in a good way.

“Tell me something else about you Mr. Barzal.”

“Is this 20 questions or something?”

“It is now!” You playfully smacked his thigh, you were so close together it wouldn’t take much for you to lean in and kiss him.

“Tes yeux sont les plus beaux que j'ai jamais vus.” You could tell he was speaking French just from the way he changed his accent. Since when could this beautiful man speak french?!

“You can speak french?”

“A hobby of mine, you could say.” From the way the words flowed out of his mouth, you knew it wasn’t just a hobby.

“What did you say?” You turned to look at him, slightly shorter so that you had to look up to look at each other. Everything else seemed to disappear behind him. There could have been roars of people around you, but you wouldn’t have been able to hear them. It was true what they said, when you found the right person it was like everything else melted away.

“I said you have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen.” You couldn’t even attempt to hide the blush you could feel forming in your cheeks.

“Is that how you get all the ladies?” You managed to speak finally, after gaining your composure again. But your voice was quiet, like you didn’t want to know the answer.

“Tu es le seul que je veux.” His forehead came to rest against yours. You could feel his hot breath against your face, lighting the nerves in your body on fire.

“Tell me what you said.” You breathed out, trying to catch your breath as if it had been taken from you.

“You are the only one I want.”

“Okay.” You didn’t know why you were saying it. But he seemed to know why, and crashed his lips against yours. His hand came up to cup the back of your head, bringing you as close to him as you could get. The ocean breeze no longer seemed to matter as you began exploring each other’s bodies. He pulls you onto his lap, wrapping the blanket around you in one fluid motion. His lips tasted slightly of whiskey and chocolate, inviting and warm. Warmth blossomed in your chest, like you wanted to be engulfed in each other. You could feel his hands wanting to go under your shirt, and you nodded into the kiss to let him know that it was okay.

You pulled back just for a moment to catch your breath, but not letting your forehead leave his. You were breathing hard against each other as one, in sync already after the slightest touch. His eyes told you everything you needed to know, and you felt safe in his arms. Mat placed his hands on either side of your face, allowing you to feel just how much the moment meant to him. To him, he was holding his world in his hands and now he never wanted to let you go. His next kiss felt like fireworks, and now you knew what it felt like when people said they never wanted something to end. A kiss like the two of your lives depended on it, and you wanted to get lost in him. His kisses were soft at first and increased in intensity every time you drew back for a breath. You wanted more, you wanted all of him.

He breathed your name, realizing that it was in fact now dark outside. The only light came from the street lights in the parking lot and the small flashlight Mat had brought from his car. He brought you in for a hug against him, tucking your head into the nape of his neck. You fit there perfectly, and the smell of his cologne engulfed all of your senses.

“We should probably head back to the hotel.” He whispered, but didn’t make any moves to let go of you.

“Maybe…”

“That doesn’t mean we have to be alone tonight.” He squeezed you, the reassurance washing over you. You nod, and get up off the ground. Mat shakes off the blankets, trying to get rid of as much sand as possible. But you knew that there would be sand all over you for days, in places you never think sand would end up. He got you settled in the car, placing the supplies back where he got them from. Once back in the car, he took your hand once more and you drove quietly back to the hotel.

“Where do we go from here?” You asked.

“I like you.” Another hand squeeze. You didn’t know what to say back to him, too afraid that anything would scare him off just like the other guys you’d dated. “You don’t have to say it back yet, I just didn’t want this night to end without telling you that. When I know I want something, I won’t stop until I can have it. If you’ll let me, that is.”

“What about tonight?” He didn’t answer you, but that was okay. It was unspoken, hanging in the air like a cloud, but you knew you weren’t going to be alone that night. Or the rest of the weekend, if Mat had anything to say about it. Arriving back at the hotel, Mat handed his keys off to the valet and led you inside.

“Is there anything you need to get from your room?” He asked once in the elevator.

“Not that I can think of.”

“Good.” Once the elevator doors opened to his floor, he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder once again. But this time you were more than okay with it. He had to set you down in order to open his room, but picked you up again once you were inside. He laid you down on the freshly laundered bed, throwing your shoes across the room and his along with them. You crawled under the covers together, and all he did was hold you. There were the occasional make out sessions throughout the night, but nothing more. He told you about his childhood and growing up playing hockey, and you told him about the life of being a coach's daughter.

He told you about the way he likes his eggs cooked, his pregame rituals, and all the movies he liked to watch. You talked about anything and everything that came to mind, eventually falling asleep in his arms. When you woke up it didn’t feel strange, it felt like you were supposed to be there. The morning after was always an awkward moment, falling over your words and trying to sneak out without the other person noticing. There was no sneaking out this time, instead you woke up with a kiss from Mat being planted on the top of your head.

“Good morning, beautiful.” He whispered, kissing around your neck and cheeks as much as he could.

“It’s wedding day today.” You smiled, you were excited to get your best friend in the world down the aisle. In helping her find her happiness, you had also managed to find some of yours.

“I’m guessing you have to go soon?” He asked, looking down at you.

“Well I am the maid of honor you know, I think someone will notice if I’m not there.”

“But what if I told you I just wanted to hold you all day instead?” He smirked. The hold that this man already had over you..

“What if I told you, that starting tomorrow you never had to let go of me again?” He sat up quickly and looked down at you.

“You mean it?”

“Well I don’t just spend the night with anyone, Mathew. I think our friends might just be right…” You smiled, he came down to kiss you so fast you didn’t even know what hit you. Was it crazy to rush into something so fast? Maybe. But did it feel right? Absolutely. You’d read all the romance novels of quick relationships, always telling yourself it wasn’t actually like that. Those were just fairy tales you could read about, nothing like that would ever happen in real life.

It took a little more convincing for him to actually let you get out of bed and go to the bridal suite where everyone was getting ready. Of course he had to be with the grooms party, but somehow it never took guys quite as long to get ready.

“Are you sure you have to go right now?” He asked once he pulled away from you. You didn’t want to get out of the nice comfy bed with a pretty man laying in it but duty called.

“Yessss, do you think you’ll be able to survive without me for a few hours?” You started to throw off the covers, but he pulled you back in.

“No, I don’t actually. I might just lay here and cry all day!” You laughed, knowing that both the bride and groom would come for him but let him pretend.

“You’ll be fine, I promise. If you let me go, I’ll let you grab my butt when we dance later.”

“DEAL!” One more quick kiss, and you were finally able to get up. One wave goodbye as you opened the door to leave, and you were off. You had to stop by your own room to get your dress and makeup, and then it was off to the bridal suite. You were surprisingly one of the first ones to arrive, and were able to eat a little bit of breakfast for once. Everyone in the bridal party got to choose their own dress as long as it was within the color palette, and yours was your favorite shade of blue. It fits you in all of the right places, just the way that it should. The bride paid for everyone’s hair to be done, and once everyone was all finished getting ready it was time to take pictures of the bridal party. The photographer seemed to be on her A-game, and for once things were running on time in your life. Anthony already gone to take his place

Finally you got to have a moment just you and your best friend on her big day. The day both of you had talked about since you were kids, the one that you spent planning on pinterest for hours without even a thought of someone in the picture.

“Hannah… you look stunning! I hope today is everything you ever dreamed it would be. I can’t wait to see the look on Anthony’s face when he sees you today. I’ll still beat him up if he ever hurts you though. Are you ready?”

“Have I told you I love you yet today?”

“I love you too girl. Let’s get you married!” Each bridesmaid had their groomsman, and you took your place at the end. Mat walked around the corner and paused when he saw you, stopping him dead in his tracks.

“You like something you see sir?” He offered up his arm for you to take once he made his way to you.

“Tu es le seul que je veux.” He repeated his words from last night, kissing your cheek.

“Me too.” You’d learn how to say it in french, one day at least.

Of course there wasn’t a dry eye in the house after the ceremony. After all of the guests made their way to the reception hall and the rest of the wedding party photos were taken, the evening seemed to go rather smoothly. You may or may not have felt Mat’s hand graze across your butt a few times during pictures, but you kindly reminded him that he wasn’t allowed to feel your butt until you got to dance. He acted like you were torturing him though, depriving him of a dream.

You wanted to get your wedding mingling out of the way first, so that you could enjoy the night with who you wanted. It did not go without notice that Mat’s eyes were following you around the room in a very flirty kind of way. You hadn’t felt like this in a really long time, like you could relax because you were finally comfortable with someone.

“Hey bestie, how is your night going?” Hannah found her way over to you, and more of your friends noticed. You recognized what was happening, they wanted to get all of the dirty details about you and Mat. Of course their plan was successful, but you were also a proud individual. All of them were smiling a little too big at you, asking without actually asking.

“I know what you’re trying to do here!” You accused her.

“Don’t waste time woman, we wanna know! How’s it going with Mat?” Hannah asked.

“I saw you going into his room last night!”

“We know you two snuck off last night, don’t even lie.”

“Where did he take you! Was it romantic?”

“One question at a time!” You were only one person after all, “It’s still very new, we just met this weekend.”

“That smile doesn’t lie sweetie.” You were a bad liar and they knew it.

“Okay fine. Yes we snuck off last night, yes I was in his room but we didn’t do anything but talk and make out, he took me to a beach, and yes it was romantic! Now if you don’t mind, I promised my man a dance and that he could touch my butt. I always keep my promises!”

“YOUR MAN?”

You ran before they could question you further, right towards Mat, who held his arms open for you. Hiding things was never your strong suit, so you two had decided to not even bother.

“They look like you just told them the world is going to end tonight, what happened?” He asked, bringing you into his arms for all the world to see. Clearly he was ready to make everyone aware you were an item, and you weren’t going to object.

“I called you my man, and then immediately walked away.” You smiled up at him.

“Oh you did?”

“Yes sir.”

“I guess that does leave us with the big question.”

“What question?”

“What are we going to do with us? Did this weekend make you want to see me again?” Great opportunities rarely presented themselves at your doorstep. Mat had treated you better in the last 24 hours than a lot of people and you already knew your loved ones approved. It felt right, your gut always had a good feeling about these things. It would always be fun to tell the grandkids you met at a wedding, you’d tell them the part about the bar when they were old enough.

“I said you were my man, did I not?”

“Well you did keep me waiting ma’am, that’s a criminal offense. I’m not sure if I’m your man yet.” He said through a smile.

“Oh is that so?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Nah I’m just fuckin with you, I’ve been dying to kiss you all night.” He brought his hands up to cup either side of your face, and kissed you in a way that shouldn’t be in the middle of your best friends wedding reception.

“You don’t want to touch my butt?” You ask when you finally pull apart.

“Of course I do, but if I touch your butt right now we would be leaving this party within the next few minutes and I believe we both have important things to do.” He whispered in your ear, giving him a look. A look that said I know you want to take my clothes off right now, so I’m going to do my best to tease you. After pulling away, Mat offered you his hand for the dance you had promised.

Standing in the middle of the dance floor with him, while looking at your surroundings and seeing how happy your best friend was, kind of hit you like a sack of bricks. A few years ago if someone had told you this was where your life would end up, you’d have called them crazy. You felt him kiss your forehead as you danced, and you felt yourself melt into him a little. You had no defenses against him, your walls suddenly disappeared when he was near. If he was out of your sight, suddenly the world wasn’t as clear anymore. Maybe summer wasn’t just a time for flings, because this one felt different. Who would have thought just one summer weekend could be so life changing.

........

Half a summer and one year later…

You couldn’t believe you were standing where you were. Summer was starting to become your favorite season. The only thing that brought you back down to earth was the squeeze you felt on your hand from your new husband. The look of reassurance on his face told you all that you needed to know, that he loved you and that you’d be fine. Crowds weren’t always your thing, even if it was your own wedding.

“You ready?”

He knew the timing of your entrance better than anyone, and you could hear Tito start to speak from the other side of the door. The doors opened, blinding you with light. You felt one last squeeze, and then your brain managed to get your feet to start moving again.

“My friends, it is my honor and great pleasure to introduce to you for the very first time… MR. AND MRS. MATHEW BARZAL!”

[prettytoxicrevolver]

Five Times You Almost Kissed Mat Barzal and The One Time You Did

Warnings: None, not proofread

Word Count: 3.4k

Five 

“Do something with it!!” you yell angrily at the screen and Mat laughs lightly next to you. 

You fall back into the couch with a huff, Mat still laughing next to you. You look up at your best friend, a light smile placed on his lips and you reflect it, before rolling your eyes at him. 

“Can I help you?” you ask and he shakes his head, his smile turning more into a mischievous grin. 

“Nope. Just enjoying knowing what you look like at my games,” he responds. 

You roll your eyes again but a hint of a smile forces its way onto your lips, your feelings wanting to escape every minute you were next to Mat. You push them back instead, snuggling next to Mat on the couch. Your hands find their way to his bicep, holding on lightly as your head falls to his shoulder. 

Mat moves one hand to the back of your thigh, pulling you closer to him while effectively sending your heart straight into the stratosphere. You lean into his side, but his hand doesn’t move from its place on your leg. You try to slow your heartbeat down as you relax into Mat’s warm figure but your focus falls from the game to the boy next to you. 

Your eyes trail over the time, seeing it’s nearing midnight and sudden tiredness takes over you. Mat’s warmth does nothing to help, only making your eyes flutter to a close with ease. 

Mat’s eyes are trained on the TV with an attempt to ignore the growing thump of his heart when he’s around you. He had claimed he didn’t want to watch the game with you, but in reality, he’d do anything if it meant he could be by your side. His eyes trail over to you, a soft smile crawling onto his lips. 

Mat nudges you awake and your eyes flutter back open, searching for a moment to look over the TV before turning to Mat. Your chin props on top of his shoulder and you look up at him through your eyelashes. 

“Stay awake, you’re the one who wanted to watch the game,” he reminds you and you smile tiredly. 

“Hush I know,” you say. 

You search his eyes, a steady silence falling around the two of you. Your heart beats rapidly against his arm, and you wonder if he can feel the shakiness of your touch. 

Mat is entranced by your gaze, wanting to look everywhere but your eyes but not being able to. He aches to close the distance between the two of you, to change your relationship status, and yet all he could do was look into your mesmerizing (y/e/c) eyes. 

“MacKinnon with the rebound and he shoots, scores!!” The announcers pull you both from your trance, scaring you off from the possibility. 

Four 

Your morning was seriously not going as planned. 

You had forgotten your textbooks for your class, forgotten your students' essays to grade, forgotten to make lunch or bring money for it, and basically forgot all important things for your school day. It was a nightmare, to say the least. All you could really do was chalk it up to it being the end of the school year and hope you make it through the day. 

Mat had noticed you left everything at home when he woke up. It was his day off, the coach giving them a break from practice and even though he would head to the gym later, he still decided to sleep in a little. When he entered your shared living room, he noticed your textbooks and the essays you were grading sprawled out on the coffee table. 

A frown burrowing on his face as he makes his way into the kitchen to find a half-made lunch and your lunch bag sitting on the counter. He pouts at the sight, knowing you must have been beyond stressed and frustrated that you left your things. 

He had seen you do this before, whenever the end of the school year came, or a stressful point happened in your life you were chronic at forgetting things. It was an unfortunate habit of your messy mind but it happened. However, Mat had always noticed and always made the attempt to bring you anything you needed. 

He pulls out his phone, not seeing any texts or notifications from you but shrugging it off. He gathers up your stuff as neatly as possible before heading back into his room to change into something somewhat appropriate to wear at your school. 

You hit fourth period, only feeling the day weigh on you more and more as you realize how frazzled the end of the year makes you. You were opening seven thousand different tabs, trying to grade student work, and pull up the content you would teach as your students waited patiently for you to give them instructions. 

“Okay guys,” you say, finally standing to start the class. 

Mat had the drive to your school memorized by now. He loved visiting you and seeing you working away as you got to see him so often. It was the cutest thing, your short self commanding a room of teenagers, some listening intently and asking questions, others not always taking you seriously. 

Today he approaches your classroom, the door swung wide open as your voice booms over the room. He relaxes into the doorway, head tilted as he looks at you, refusing to bother you just yet as you teach. His eyes trail your figure, a soft but proud smile resting on his lips. 

Your students had noticed him before you did, some smiling and waving at him. He waves back, recognizing some of your students who he’s met before. His head leans against the door, a lovestruck look in his eyes, and your students have completely lost the point of your lesson, watching a love story unfold before them. 

Finally, your eyes follow theirs, reaching the doorway to see Mat standing there. Your confusion turns partly to embarrassment and part to joy seeing your best friend there. 

“No, go back to teaching,” he waves your look off before you can even say anything. 

“What’s up?” you ask, ignoring his plea. 

You knew the minute you had become aware of Mat’s presence you wouldn’t be able to focus. Your thoughts go blank at his presence and narrowing on your shaky hands, rapidly beating heart. Mat crosses the room to you, handing you the things you forgot this morning. 

“I came to drop your stuff off and take you to lunch?” he questions and you grin. 

“Give me a few minutes? The bell’s gonna ring soon.” 

Mat nods telling you he’s gonna run to the bathroom and come back to grab you before he can take you to lunch. You watch his figure retreat, a dopey smile left on your lips and when you turn back to your students they grin at you. 

“Miss, are you guys finally dating?” Comes from one of your girls in the back. 

“Guys we’re just friends,” you tell them and your boys groan. 

“Does he say that or do you?” a boy in the back asks. 

“Well,” 

“Oh my god Miss,” they all groan and you laugh. 

You usher them back to learning but the bell rings and just as soon as Mat has left he’s back and saying goodbye to your students. Once they’re gone he makes his way to you, looking proud and mischievous all in one. 

“Hey you’re pretty good at this,” he says and you laugh. 

“Well thank you,” you say, moving around the room to clean up after your students. 

“Hey,” Mat says, grabbing your arm and pulling you closer. 

“I mean it. You’re a great teacher.” 

A blush covers your cheeks, a hand comes to rest on Mat’s side and he gazes down at you, your heart doing backflips as you look up at your best friend. His hand slides from your arm to your shoulder, pulling you flush against him. Your other hand lays on his chest, his heart slamming steadily against your fingertips.

Your eyes search each other’s hearts beating hard in anticipation. You stand on your tiptoes inching closer to Mat, he leans down, his forehead touching yours and for a moment you think everything might change. 

“Shit, sorry (y/n/n),” you hear, pulling you and Mat from each other. 

You look up to see one of your fellow teachers in the doorway, a blush covering his cheeks as he catches you and Mat together. You plop your head on Mat’s chest, chuckling lightly before pulling away and dragging him out the door with you.

Three

As weird as it sounded, you loved blasting music in your room, folding laundry, and dancing around like an absolute idiot. Mat was at practice leaving the apartment to you, and you were taking full advantage of it. Your favorite Bazzi album surrounds the room as you dance and work on folding all of yours and Mat’s laundry. 

Mat was somewhat grateful practice ended early. He felt like he hadn’t spent any time with you in ages and was missing your smile. He headed home instantly, declining to go out with his friends knowing you would be home. 

He raced home, dropping his stuff at the door and following the sound of your music playing loud in the apartment. He makes his way to your door, a dorky smile finding its way onto his lips as he watches you. 

You dance unknowingly around the room, singing quietly under your breath to whatever song had you entranced for the moment. Your music changed like your emotions and Mat had a special talent for knowing how you felt just from the song you were playing. 

You fold clothes mindlessly, throwing yours in one pile and his in the other. The tiny chore done for him makes his heart pound. It was simple and dumb but he loved your selflessness nonetheless. 

As one song ends, Mat decides to make his presence known, 

“Bravo!” he yells. 

You jump, ten feet in the air it feels like when you hear Mat’s voice come from behind you. You whip around, glaring at Mat before placing one hand on your knee, the other on your chest, clutching your heart as it pounds from the scare. 

“Mathew Barzal!” you yell employing your best friend’s full name. 

Mat cackles loudly, mimicking your movements as he bends over to laugh at his best friend. You pick up a piece of clothing, throwing it half-heartedly at him as your heart starts to slow down. As Mat watches you slowly gain your composure, an idea sparks, mischief behind his eyes forming. 

“Mat,” you warn, knowing the older boy has an idea planned. 

Mat rushes forward, hooking an arm around your waist and pulling you down onto the bed with him. You shriek loudly as your back hits the mattress with a thud, Mat landing on top of you. 

“Barzal!” you yell frustrated but there’s a hint of laughter in your annoyance and Mat can spot it, giggling quietly against you. 

“I thought I’d help,” he says, propping his chin up to look at you. 

You gaze down at him, grinning madly at the dumb but unbelievably lovable boy beneath you. Mat’s hair falls before his eyes and you lift one hand up to push it out of the way. Mat catches your hand as you card your fingers through his hair, pulling it to his lips to press a kiss to your fingers. 

You freeze at the contact, watching Mat’s every move. Your song changes into the background, one of the very few Bazzi love songs only making your heart float higher. Mat moves slightly, one of his hands resting next to your head, the other trailing up and down your side. Your breath hitches as he lowers to meet you, his nose brushing yours. 

The dryer sounds, beeping loud and scaring you both more than Mat did a few minutes ago. Mat jumps, dropping his head back down on your stomach and you feel the sigh he releases. 

Two

“One dance?” Noah begs and you roll your eyes. 

“Mat?” you ask, trying to get your best friend to help you. 

“Nope this is between you two,” he responds, taking a long sip of his drink. 

“You owe me,” Noah reminds you, and you nod before taking his outstretched hand. 

Noah leads you away, your only look back to your best friend is the wink he sends you and you flip him off but smile anyway. 

Noah sweeps you up, hands wrapped around your waist as you move around the room together. He had needed someone to dance with, part to make another girl jealous, part to get over another girl and you were reluctant but fine with helping out a friend as much as possible. You also owed Noah, him knowing about your massive crush on Barzy, had him covering for you and playing wingman in more ways than one. 

“Are you ever gonna tell him?” he asks as you sway slowly around the ballroom. 

“Are you ever going to tell her?” you turn it back on him and he nods, a blown-out smile in return. 

“Touche.” 

You dance for a bit longer in silence, but your gaze falls to Mat every so often. 

“See here’s the thing,” Noah says, pulling your attention back to him. You stare into his eyes, awaiting the wisdom the defenseman would drop onto you. “If you tell him, you could be dancing with him and not me.” 

“I think even if I was dating him I’d end up dancing with you Noah,” you joke and he laughs. 

“Yeah but it’s because you’re just so damn irresistible,” he jokes back, making you throw your head back in laughter. 

Mat hasn’t taken his eye off of you since you walked away with his teammate. His teammate knew his feelings for the girl and wondered why he would put him through the torture of this jealousy. He watches Noah hold the girl he loves the way he should, and his heart twists when her head is thrown back in laughter, the sound ringing in his head. 

He can’t help the movement in his legs when the song ends and another begins and Noah still has his hands on you. He marches up to the two of you, Noah noticing his presence first and nudging you to look over at him. 

“Mind if I cut in?” 

“All yours,” Noah says, handing your hand to him and Mat is happy to sweep you up into his arms. 

“Ah a much better dancer,” you say and Mat grins widely down at you. 

“What were you guys talking about?” 

“Oh, Noah’s just spilling all of your deep dark secrets,” you grin mischievously. 

“You mean all the things you already know?” 

“Exactly doll,” you joke and he chuckles and shakes his head. 

Mat’s heart was surprisingly calm dancing with you like this is where he’s supposed to be. With Noah, you looked everywhere, mostly trying to look at Mat, but now you couldn’t keep your eyes off the dance partner in front of you. The moment created before you, the two of you are the only ones in the world at this point. 

Your movements had slowed to barely a sway, entranced by each other. You can feel the two of you moving closer, the tension building and your heart slowing but your hands shaking. 

“Hey, can I-” 

You both pull back to see Noah grinning dorkily at the two of you. You don’t realize it but the middle man of your relationship receives the same look just as Noah takes your waist again, and Mat walks away both of you sad that your moment is ruined. 

One 

The slam of a puck against the boards makes you jump, instantly waking you up from your tired 6 am state. You pull your iced coffee to your chest and take a sip, propping a hand up to rest your cheek on it. 

You hadn’t been to an early practice in a while but wanted to surprise Mat with coffee and breakfast afterward. You also knew that if you woke up early and showed up at the rink you could get some work done as you listened to the boy’s practice. 

Mat didn’t notice you were in the stands at first. Noah was the one to nudge him till he lost his balance, and point up to the row where you sat. It was not unlike what you looked like at home, papers spread around you, head bent, lip tugged between your teeth, as you scribbled across the papers furiously. He pauses to focus on you and ends up with a check to his side by Pageau. 

“Come on man,” Mat groans, stumbling to catch himself. 

“Pay attention man,” he calls, and both he and Noah skate off laughing. 

The rest of practice is fast and hard, Mat’s attention splits between you and the tasks at hand, and when coach calls it to an end Mat has never felt more grateful. He skates off quickly, darting into the locker room. He showers and makes his way to where you sat in the arena. 

You sit blissfully unaware of what’s going on around you, not realizing practice has ended. Your head is still bent over your work and you miss Mat sneaking up behind you. 

“Authorized personnel only miss,” Mat jokes and your heart jumps for a moment but you hide it with a smile, lifting your head just barely and turning to meet his gaze. 

“Oh sorry I thought I had an in with a player,” you explain as he sits down next to you. 

“Really? Who?’ 

“Noah Dobson? He’s just so dreamy I’m pretty sure we’re gonna get married,” you continue the ruse and Mat shoves your head jokingly and you laugh loudly. 

“Seriously, what are you doing here so early?” 

“Wanted to get some work done. But I also wanted to take you out to breakfast. I feel like we haven’t seen each other in a while.” 

Mat grins as he leans over your work, his head replacing your previous view and you grin down at the older boy. Your eyes search his, joy radiating between the two of you as you fall quiet. You think about just closing the distance, finally breaking this growing tension. 

“Hey! Authorized people only!” A guard yells and you both giggle lightly as you pull away. 

You both hold bittersweetness in your heart but smile nonetheless as you walk away together and head to breakfast. 

And One 

“You have to pay attention to every second or else we’re no longer friends,” you tell Mat as he sits down and you throw your legs over his. 

He places the bowl of popcorn in your lap, your hands digging in instantly and Mat reaches for the remote pressing play in the comedy special. 

You insisted he watch Bo Burnham’s new special on netflix, the one that had you bawling by the end of it but meant the world to you. Mat had only agreed to watch because he knew you adored it. 

“Yup definitely paying attention,” he says, picking up his phone for a moment. 

You set the popcorn bowl down, reaching for Mat’s phone and he pouts at your action. You both end up giggling as your short arms try to reach his phone held into the air above you. 

You wiggle around moving so you’re practically straddling his lap as you grab his phone. When it’s in your hand, you smile widely claiming victory. 

You throw his phone to the side, finally looking down at Mat who’s had his eyes on you the entire time. Your hands fall to his chest, his heartbeat familiar under your fingertips. 

Mat’s hand comes up, his finger tilting your chin down to come closer and your foreheads press against each other. Your noses brush, breath mingling in wait. 

Mat’s other hand trails your waist, gripping it lightly while the other cups your cheek. He finally pulls you in, his lips pressing against yours firmly. You sink into the feeling letting out a sigh. 

The hype had definitely lived up, every inch of tension resolving and fizzling out in the kiss that was built since the day you met. You chase your feelings back and forth in the kiss not wanting to break thinking this would be the last time.

[senditcolton]

Request: Mean Marty smut. Because “we’re a bad idea” is completed (loved the character progression in that last chapter, by the way), there’s a good chance Lamoriello isn’t re-signing him and Clutter, and this entire off-season has hurt my heart. Dealer’s choice on the content.

- 💛

I'm Not Sentimental, but...

a/n: considering the way I managed to write all of this in a single night I feels just proves how much I kind of missed writing smut. why is it always this man to pull me back to smut writing? the world may never know. inspired by this moodboard by @smileysvech, this ask from a previous thirst night, and this proposal from @comphy-and-cozy, (not sure if you'll get the full epic, but here's a little taste)

Song Inspo: "Billie Bossa Nova" by Billie Eilish Word Count: 5k Warnings: smut. sugar daddy/baby dynamics, bondage, sensory deprivation, oral (m receiving), sex toys, overstimulation, dirty talk, and just general depravity... I'm going to hell, it's fine.

Aman. Premiere Suite. Ten o’clock. Sharp.

That was the four sentence text message Matt Martin had sent you earlier today. A text message that you had been repeating in your head almost religiously, as if being able to recite it from memory would make him forgive you for the fact that it was now 10:15 and you were still a block away.

Hell, being able to recite the message would most likely get you into even more trouble.

Instead of memorizing the now irrelevant text, you should’ve been practicing a rehearsed speech of excuses to tell him when you finally did arrive: your boss kept you at work for longer than expected, you had to stop at your house to get ready, dressing to the parameters that Matt had set in the text massage prior to the one rattling in your brain. Anything that would transfer the blame from you onto someone else. But you knew it would be pointless.

Matt loved reminding you that you were capable of anything. A reminder that was uplifting when brought up in conversations about the education he was helping pay for. A reminder that was shameful when he said it in that degrading tone that made you weak in the knees.

When the two of you had agreed to this dynamic all those months ago, you knew what you were signing up for. Being a sugar baby wasn’t for the meek. That statement was only amplified when you added Matt Martin to the equation.

After all, no sane person would willingly agree to trudge down New York City streets in a set of highly risqué lingerie, the only protection between you and indecent exposure being a long tan trench coat.

Yet… here you were.

A sigh of relief whooshes out of you when you see the neon sign of the hotel ahead, your pace quickening as if that would make up for lost time. You try to keep an air of confidence about you as you walk into the lobby, your heels clicking on the tile floor. The song-and-dance at the front desk is blissfully short – only the words ‘premiere suite’ needed to fall from your mouth before someone is escorting you to the private elevator. You step inside, the doors closing and you watch the LED numbers increase, your heartrate rising with it.

You were so late. You were in so much trouble. But, instead of the dread you should’ve felt at the thought of facing Matt’s disappointment, there was a thrum of excitement running through you.  

It wasn’t anything to lie about. In fact, Matt often liked to tease you, asking if you broke the rules on purpose because you liked the punishment. Whenever he asked, both you and he knew that there was no denying the truth.

It was a deliciously predictable game of cat-and-mouse. You knew exactly how far you could push and he knew exactly how much you could take. It was a transaction, like every other part of your arrangement. And while some might think that knowledge would dampen the mood, it actually just made it even more intoxicating.

The elevator finally stops, the doors opening directly into the suite – an elegantly decorated room decked in the blacks and beiges that screamed bougie. You step forward, out of the elevator, your heels sinking into the carpet as your eyes dart around the room, looking for Matt. You eventually spy the outline of his tall frame in front of the opened bay doors, the cool air streaming in from the balcony, fluttering the curtains. He has his back to you, his arms crossed and you see an empty whiskey glass dangling from his fingers.

He knew you were there. He had to have known that you were there, the elevator ding when you arrived being anything but subtle. Yet, he didn’t acknowledge you – just kept staring out at 5th Avenue.

Perhaps against your better judgement, you decide to break the silence with a gentle whisper of his name but before you could add another word to the single syllable sentence, his voice cuts you off.

“What time is it?”

It’s a somewhat rhetorical question but one that demands an answer nonetheless. He knew the time but more importantly, he knew that you knew the time. But he wanted you to acknowledge it – admit your failings – and that delectable shame causes the heat to rise in your cheeks.

“10:28,” you whisper out and your quiet admission has Matt turning to face you. He looks good, like always. The white button-down shirt is cut perfectly to his body, the black of his slacks and his tan tie making it seem like he belonged in this room. Everything about him screamed power and luxury, from the Windsor knot still snug below his throat, to the Rolex on his wrist, to his cufflinks glinting in the low lamplight.

“10:28,” he repeats. He moves forward, quickly abandoning his glass on a nearby table, his now empty hands coming to grip your chin and tilt your head back to lock your eyes with his. “It’s like you don’t want to see me,” he muses, the dangerous sparkle in his irises only hinting at what was to come.

“Of course, I do,” you rebut, the pleading edge to your voice sounding almost too sickly sweet to even your ears. “But –”

Whatever words you had poised to fall from your lips are silenced by Matt pulling your face towards him to crash his lips against yours. You should hate how much you melt under his touch, how willingly you open your mouth to allow his tongue to have access. But you don’t. It was nearly impossible to hate Matt Martin, even when his lips disappear from yours.

“No excuses, sweetheart. We both know any excuse you have could be resolved if you just let me take care of you entirely,” he whispers, his thumb brushing along your jawline.

The proposal isn’t new; it’s one that he had casually suggested almost every night since your arrangement started. It was also pointless to argue with him because he was telling the truth. He had enough money to make it so you could exist to only be on his arm and at his beck and call. But that wasn’t the life you had envisioned. He knew that. He respected that.

This was your boundary for him; one that he liked to toy at but you knew he would never cross.

“I know,” you whisper, having no other answer to give him. It seems to be enough, that lazy smug smile appearing on his face; the one that had Islander fans cheer and opponents sneer when he was playing. One that occasionally appeared in press conferences he attended as Assistant General Manager. It signals an end to the conversation and acts as a segue into the inevitable.

His hands fall from your face, moving to your coat as he deftly unties the long belt from its cinched position around your waist. The material slips from your frame with a surprising ease, leaving you clad in the lingerie he requested – the set he bought you a week ago. The undergarments are more for decoration than actual function, considering the only coverage on your chest was a pair of satin ribbons and the fabric around your hips disappeared when it came time to cover your core.

“Gorgeous,” he murmurs, his hands delicately tracing the lines of your body, toying with but not undoing the bows on your chest and hips. The sharp breath that he sucks in between his teeth at the sight of you makes the heat pool in your lower stomach.

“Wanted to make sure I looked perfect for you.”

“Think that will excuse you for being late?” he asks, that smirk reappearing as his head cocks to the side. You quickly shake your head in a negative (even though you hoped that flattery would get you out of whatever torture was to come), an action to which his only response is a deep chuckle.

He walks away from you for a moment, the space between Matt’s heat and your newly exposed body allowing the coolness of the night air to hit your skin. You watch him pick up the pale pink leather cuffs that you only now realized had been waiting for you on the table next to the whiskey glass he abandoned a few short minutes ago.

“Wrists.”

The single word is all it takes for you to present your hands to him, watching with baited breath as he wraps the material around your joints, buckling the hardware securely against your skin. You let him guide your arms behind your back, the click of the restraints locking together seemingly reverberating around your ribcage.

“Knees.”

It is somewhat ridiculous how single syllable words are all Matt needs to utter to have you obeying him perfectly. The descent to your knees is easy, the plush carpet forgiving, and your eyes glance up, tracking Matt’s movement as he walks back in front of you, towering over your body more than he usually did. His hands come to his neck, elegant fingers undoing his tie, allowing the material to now drape down either side of his collar. He continues to deconstruct the professional façade he was wearing like a mask, unbuttoning the top buttons of his dress shirt and removing the cufflinks to roll up his sleeves. His hands return to the silken material of his tie, pulling one side until it falls from his frame. It takes you an embarrassingly long time to realize his intentions with said material, a pout forming on your lips as he takes the fabric in both hands.

“Don’t give me that look, darling,” he coos as he moves the material towards your face, the stretch of fabric between his fists the perfect length to wrap around your head, the high-quality silk covering your eyes and plunging the room into darkness. You feel his adept fingers loop the material, careful not to get it tangled in your hair as he tugs a secure knot against the back of your skull.

“Felt like you didn’t want to see me tonight anyway,” he muses, his voice now becoming your only guide as he continues, “since you were almost a half-hour late.”

“I’m sorry,” you whine, knowing that the plea, no matter how pathetic, would fall onto deaf ears.

“I know, sweetheart.”

His reply is pitying but firm – a staple in the dynamic established between the two of you. Rules had been laid out and it was only befitting that when one was broken, a punishment followed.

Although, the sound of his belt buckle coming undone combined with the snap of the leather as it slipped from his belt loops didn’t sound like the beginnings of a punishment to you.

Your mouth opens with practiced ease, outstretching your tongue and submitting yourself to him in what you were sure looked like the most perfect bow-tied present. He chuckles and you feel his fingers grip your chin again before his thumb is pressing against the pink muscle of your tongue.

“That eager for me, aren’t you?”

You only response is to wrap your lips around the digit, gently suckling – just enough to tempt him into giving you the real thing. He laughs, his thumb slipping out of the wet cavern of your mouth before the sound of him unzipping of his dress pants causes your mouth to open again.

It is slight torture, waiting for him, not being able to see him and not being able to know what was coming and when it was coming. But that only heightened the excitement you felt when the delectable weight of his shaft came to rest on your outstretched tongue. You feel the appendage slide against you, the tip of it disappearing into your mouth – shallowly at first but slowly increasing its depth. You press your tongue against the bottom of his length, a silent indication that you were willing and ready to take all of him, one that Matt reads and responds to by holding the side of your head as his hips begin to move, thrusting into your mouth. You relax your throat, allowing him to slip deeper as he takes what he needs from your body, the filthy praise rolling from his lips while yours are otherwise occupied.

“Never get tired of this,” he groans from above you. “Never get tied of seeing your mouth wrapped around my cock. Of feeling your throat constrict around me. Such a good girl – such a pretty perfect slut for me.”

You can hear his words become stuttered, feel the steady rhythm of his thrusts turn staccato and it isn’t long until his climax comes, the feeling of his release filling your mouth almost as intoxicating as the taste of him. You suck, cleaning him with an eager deftness that has him groaning, a trill running through you. You wish you could see him – see the post-orgasm glow that alit his skin, see the way he pushes back the strands of hair that always fell over his forehead. For the first time since he took your sight away, it felt like a punishment.

He finally pushes back, the silky smoothness of his length removing itself from your mouth until a single string of silverly saliva is all that connects you. A laugh emanates from his chest as he takes you in, surely looking like a mess with the sheen of sweat on your skin, the spit on you lips, the track of tears escaping from underneath the makeshift blindfold.

“Y’look so beautiful. Gonna take a picture,” he mutters and you gently nod your head in consent.

You hear the click of a phone camera before Matt’s hands are back on your body, this time lifting you up off the ground before trailing down your arms to unclasp the restraints. He doesn’t remove the material from your eyes, leaving you still blind as he guides you further into the room. You allow him to manipulate your body, letting him push and turn you until he is gently pressing you back against the mattress of the king-sized bed, the sheets gliding against your skin. He guides your arms up over your head and your once again hear the click of the restraints although this time when you tug, the resistance you are met with is not your own wrists but a wooden bedframe.

Another whine escapes from you, the previous act of having him in your mouth only succeeding in making you even more desperate; something that Matt most likely knew, hence why he still prevented you from touching him or even seeing him. You are simply forced to wait in deprived silence, listening intently to every noise that hits your eardrums for indication on what was to come.

You hear the rustle of fabric, the zip of a zipper, and what you think is a small chuckle from Matt before you can feel his weight sink onto the mattress. Your thighs fall open of their own volition but Matt doesn’t tease you about it, instead happy to drink in the sight of your soaked core.

“Oh, that wet already, aren’t you sweetheart?” he asks and judging by the dampness you can feel on your skin, you can only imagine how lewd the display must appear. “Got this desperate from me fucking your face? Such a perfect slut, always ready for me.”

Another whimper falls from your lips, the rolling of your hips acting as both a confirmation that you wanted him and a silent plea for him to give you more than just his words. The sigh that escapes you when you feel him trace down your thigh is blissful, until you realize that it is not Matt’s rough calloused fingers slowly trailing towards your core, but instead a soft silicone.

“No, please,” you whimper out as Matt moves the toy closer to the apex of your thighs, the rounded head coming to glide against your slick folds. “Want you Matt. Want your cock.”

“You already got it tonight,” he whispers, the toy trailing up until the tip of it presses against your clit.

“Want your cock inside me.”

“You want me to fuck your perfect cunt? Want to feel me stretching that tight little pussy open?”

Your only response is a desperate whine as your hips buck, the action forcing the toy to bump against your bundle of nerves, causing your breathing to stutter. Matt holds the wand in place and you can feel him hovering over you, his breath fanning across your cheekbones.

“Then you should’ve been on time,” he whispers, his sentence punctuated by the click of the power button, the sudden vibrations forcing a downright pornographic moan to fall from your lips. He keeps the vibrator pressed firmly against you, the buzz of it filling the room.

Your already desperate state accompanied by the low and steady hum of the vibrator means that your climax hits you faster than expected, the warmth of it washing over your body as you whine and writhe against the sheets. Matt waits until your body is no longer trembling to remove the toy from your core before turning it off, returning the room to its former silence.

That should have been the end of it, the deprivation of touch, of sight, and of him, seeming to you like punishment enough. But when the head of the vibrator is pressed against your sensitive core again, your mind is left reeling.

Your confusion allows Matt to roughly grab your leg, pulling it closer until the firm length of the wand is pressed against the supple flesh of your inner thigh. The sensation is quickly followed by another, the feeling of a different material wrapping around the toy and your leg. It takes a minute to recognize the light scratch of the fabric as the belt that used to be looped around your trench coat.

“Wh- ” you begin to ask, the simple question not even being completed before Matt shushes you, his hands still working to wrap the belt around your skin.

His hand tugs at your other thigh until you can feel them press together, the sensation of your skin fully sticking to each other impeded only by the wand firmly held into place by your limbs. But the intention behind those registered touches doesn’t fully hit you until you feel the cinch of the belt tightening around both of your legs.

“Matt, please, don’t,” you beg, the understanding of what he was about to do hitting you like a freight train. Your wrists tug at your restraints, a mantra repeating in your brain that says he couldn’t possibly be this mean.

“What are you whining about, darling? I’m about to give you more pleasure than you probably deserve.”

You whimper, knowing that he had a point. He could’ve switched the entire script, going with the torture of edging you but never allowing you a release instead of the painful bliss of overstimulation. But you needed him. Not a toy, not an orgasm – him.

“I know you can take it, like the perfect whore you are,” he mutters, his fingers tracing over the ridges of your face, that depredating praise making another zing of desire flow through you, the arousal gushing from your core even more noticeable to you because of the bindings on your legs. “But if you don’t think you can, all you have to do is tell me.”

He is giving you a choice to end it here, to have him untie you and let him take care of you. But as much as you wanted him to coddle you, you wanted to earn it. Matt knew that – you were always looking to prove yourself to anyone – hence his phrasing. Another trick in his arsenal.

So, instead of the safe-word, another plea escapes your lips, your begging consent for him to continue. You can’t see it, but that grin pulls across Matt’s features once again, a smirk of both power and admiration aimed directly at you. His hand falls from your face, trailing a torturous path down your body before dancing across your bound thighs.

The vibrations that hit you are expected and yet somehow manage catch you entirely off-guard, your core still sensitive from your previous orgasm. A high-pitched moan crawls its way up your throat as your muscles clench, your back arching.

“There she is. There’s my good girl,” Matt whispers, his praise the only thing strong enough to cut through the haze that you felt slowly enveloping you. “Feels good, yeah?”

A pathetic whimper is the only response that you can give, the sensations assaulting your body rendering you essentially speechless. Usually, that was sufficient but Matt’s mean streak seems to be never-ending, the click of his tongue sounding throughout the room.

“No, sweetheart, I need your words.”

There is a proper answer – one that you learned quickly after you once said yes and that agreement led to even more discipline. Now, the words were caught in your throat, not because you didn’t know what to say but because it was difficult to even form a string of syllables that was in any way coherent.

“Not as good as you,” you manage to choke out, your sentence rendered choppy by the hiccups of gasps that you couldn’t hold back.

You feel the mattress shift, Matt’s weight disappearing and you have no shame in letting your protest be heard, a pitiful mewl ripping its way out of your throat. You can barely hear Matt’s chuckle before you register the mattress dipping again, this time on either side of your head. It’s the press of Matt’s lips against yours that has your second orgasm crashing over you, unabashed moans falling from your mouth into his, all of which Matt greedily swallows. The orgasm fades only briefly before your body writhes again, the restraints around your wrists and your legs holding you and the vibrator tight.

Matt’s lips disappear from yours, another strangled groan falling from your lips, the sound now only hindered by your dwindling sense of self-control.

“I’m going to take a shower,” you hear Matt explain. His voice is cruelly casual; it was as if he was discussing the weather, as if he wasn’t leaving you bound with the wand still humming between your thighs, abusing your oversensitive core. “I can see you trying to quiet all those pretty little noises you want to make. Let them out, sweetheart. I want to hear you – want all of New York to hear what a good little slut you are.”

You aren’t sure whether it is his encouragement or your own desire that erases any lingering shame you have in your body, your moans now falling freely. The only praise that Matt gives you is a quiet ‘there she is’ before you can sense his presence disappearing from the room, the confirmation coming in the sound of the showerhead turning on.

When your third orgasm thrums through your body, you realize that your current predicament was more of a challenge than anything else. Not just to have Matt hear you over the crash of the water but to even stay coherent enough to do so, a test you were starting to fail as you feel the weight of your sub-space prick at the corner of your eyes. You try to ground yourself by listing every sensation: the way the sheets dampen with sweat underneath you, the way the supple leather digs into your wrists, the cool breeze coming from the window dancing over your skin. But everything is slowly drowned out by the incessant buzz of the vibrator between your legs, still pressed against your clit, that constant stimulation forcing your body to writhe, your thighs to slicken, your chest to heave.

The noises that do manage to fall from you are a jumble compilation of sighs, moans, and curses, each less coherent with every orgasm that passes through you. It is the most delicious torture, the relief of a climax followed swiftly by the borderline pain of the vibrations still going. There is no quantifying anything: how long you’ve been here, how many orgasms had been ripped from your body, how tears you’ve shed from the overstimulation. You’ve lost all sense of anything else but the hum between your legs and the torturous pleasure it brings.

Finally – finally – after yet another orgasm has crashed into you, the vibrations stop and you can’t help the absolute half-sob, half-sigh of relief that huffs from your chest. That sub-space that you had been fighting off, you now give into with a sigh, allowing the haze to sink into your body. It encompasses you, making you feel as if you were floating in the vastness of space, as if you were being smothered in velvet. The only thing that keeps you somewhat tied to earth is Matt’s gentle voice, the quiet praise falling from his lips. It takes Matt lifting you off the mattress and cradling you in his arms for you to fully come back to the present moment. Only then do you realize all the fabric that was previously tied along your body was gone, leaving you naked. You don’t care, choosing instead to nuzzle deeper into Matt’s chest as he whisks you away, your eyelids fluttering open and readjusting to the low candlelight of the bathroom.

Matt gently places you down into the tub already filled with warm water, the temperature feeling heavenly as it penetrates your muscles. A soft kiss on your temple is what Matt leaves you with before he exits the room, closing the door firmly behind him. You swear you hear hushed voices emanating from underneath the door but you are still too dazed to even bother worrying yourself over it. Eventually, Matt returns, this time with a small cart carrying a bottle of champagne and a plate of chocolate covered strawberries.

“Drink this first,” he quietly demands, handing you an ice-cold water bottle. “All of it.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice, the chilled liquid never feeling more refreshing against your tongue, coating your sore throat. You give the empty bottle back to him, the plastic being replaced by smooth glass as he hands you a champagne flute, before leaning against the side of the tub with his own glass. You take in his appearance, hair still damp from his shower, only a pair of sweatpants on his frame. His own blue eyes appraise you similarly, the quiet concern mixing with a pure devotion in his irises. You finally decide to break the silence, your voice sounding terribly hoarse as you whisper.

“’M hungry.”

Matt just smiles before grabbing the plate of strawberries, setting them down on the small stool next to the bathtub, making it easy for you to reach them. You happily munch on the fruit, feeling a modicum of energy return to you as you lean back and let Matt take care of you. His hands move beneath the water, massaging your tight muscles before grabbing the soft cotton washcloth, dampening the material in order to wipe away the sweat still clinging to your skin. You only protest once with a small hiss when he brushes against your oversensitive core, the sound quieted with a hush. The praise that fell from his mouth might have just been repeated from earlier but this time you could register it and every word made your body warm.

Sounded so pretty for me. I knew you could handle it, my perfect girl. You did so well.

He eventually lets the bath drain, helping you out of the porcelain tub and drying off the water from your body. The plush complimentary robe is thrown over your frame and Matt takes your arm, gently guiding you back to the bedroom. You can’t stop the breathy laugh that falls from your lips when you spy the shopping bags, designer labels on all of them, now piled up by one side of the bed – a bed that had been stripped and remade with fresh sheets.

“For you,” Matt whispers in your ear, pressing a kiss against your temple. You reply by turning your head towards him to press your lips onto his. It is gentler than any other kiss you shared tonight and you melt into his embrace. He helps you slip underneath the sheets, his broad body not far behind as he wraps his arms around you, pulling your back into his chest.

“I could make it so that you would never have to work again,” he whispers to you, reiterating the proposal that he postulated almost every time he saw you. You are about to retort, a sigh of his name falling from your lips before he silences your protest by continuing. “I know, you like to feel independent. And I admire that about you. I just like having you by my side.”

You rotate your body in the bed, turning to face him, the sharp angles of his face highlighted by the lights of the city that never sleeps.

“I like being by your side,” you whisper, your heart soaring at the sight of his smile.

“I don’t want you to give up your life – become some sort of trophy or anything. I respect you too much to ask you to do that. Just… promise me you’ll think about it.”

He doesn’t fully elaborate what it is: whether he meant allowing your dynamic to expand to every aspect of your life so you could do what you wanted without the pressure of making money or whether he meant becoming his completely, without any monetary value placed on the relationship you shared.

But, the silence of the hotel room, you come to realize that there is little difference between those two possibilities.

Matt wouldn’t just stop taking care of you if he wasn’t bound by a contract. He was more than that. What you shared was more than that; more than a number in your bank account, more than the amount of designer product in your closet, more than a simple transaction.

It was something real.

[swissboyhisch]

Drunken Mistakes

Pairing: Mathew Barzal x Reader

Summary: After receiving some bad news, you just wanted to not be alone. After a couple drinks, what most likely is a bad decision, starts to sound too good to miss.

Word Count: 2576

Warnings: Alcohol, friends with benefits, bad thoughts 

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THE MASTERLIST JOIN THE TAGLIST HOCKEY DISCORD

Alcohol. Something to numb the pain. Anything honestly. 

After the news you just received, you wanted some kind of distraction. You didn’t want to stay in your hotel room alone. Being in the city, away from your home. You wanted some kind of comfort. Sure, you had some friends living in the city, but everyone was busy. Leaving you alone with your thoughts. 

Mat then popped into your mind. An ex-fling. Your childhood best friend that you had reconnected with. One you had a friends-with-benefits situation with. After nights of constant talking and hours-long phones on the way home from work, you had caught feelings for Mat. In return, he ghosted you. Yes, he had warned you not to catch feelings, but it still hurt. 

Neither of you had messaged each other for months. The last thing you discussed was your travels through Europe and how you were doing amazingly. During that conversation, Mat had admitted he was lonely. But something was telling you to text him at this very moment. Maybe it was just your desperate need not to be alone.

Hey

Within minutes Mat had replied. When he asked how you were going, you told him the truth. Not good… Well, more like horrible. With that admission, Mat drove to your hotel to pick you up. Promising to be there as quickly as he could. 

You grabbed some clothes for the night and the phone charger before heading down to the lobby to wait for Mat. It didn’t take long before the familiar mop of hair weaved through the few people standing about the lobby. 

“Hey,” Mat muttered, pulling you into a hug. He could tell you weren’t doing the greatest. “You’re gonna be okay.”

You relax into his body. Your body goes slack in Mat’s arms, holding you against him. “Can we go to yours?”

“Let’s go,” Mat replies. 

The brunette grabbed your bag from your hands and placed his hand on your lower back to guide you out of the hotel. His luxurious car was parked in the valet. Mat opened your door, allowing you to slide into the passenger seat and get comfortable. Once Mat pulled out of the hotel, he drove through the city. The music playing on Bluetooth became the soundtrack to your life as you stared out the window.

“The new place,” You finally spoke up, seeing the building come into view. 

“Yeah, the new place.”

You noticed things that were not Mat’s when you walked into his apartment. A pair of shoes near the door that wasn’t his style. A pair of keys to a car that wasn’t his. Well, that you knew of.

“No roommate?”

Mat chuckled at the question, “I got a roommate, one of the traded guys.”

That made your heart hurt—more than it already was. Anthony Beauvillier was one of your closest friends, especially when you and Mat were hooking up. And now he lives in Vancouver. If you were hurting, you could only imagine how Mat was taking the whole ordeal.

“Have you talked to Tito recently?” You ask.

“Every day. Want a drink?”

The yes flew out of your mouth faster than you could predict. After looking through Mat’s vast selection of expensive alcohol, you decided to have a Jack and Coke. He grabbed the bottle of whiskey and mixer, a glass from the cupboard, and a shot glass.

“How strong?”

“At least a double,” You answered.

Then the tour began. He started in the kitchen and living room. The occasional picture of his family is scattered on the walls and shelves. Next was the balcony. Quite considerable and well-decorated. The area's main feature is a comfy couch facing the city's view. The last room on the list was his bedroom, which was very Mat: simple colours, well shades of black and white. The wardrobe with mirrors for sliding doors was on the left as you walked in. Across the room was a large window. A dresser with a tv opposite his bed sat centre on the wall to your right—every bit Mat as you’d like. 

“My teammate isn’t home, so do you wanna watch a movie in the lounge room?”

“Let me get comfy first,” You mutter, placing your drink on the dresser as you put your bag in the corner of the room. 

After changing, you joined Mat on the couch. His feet kicked up on the poof he had, and an enormous blanket lay over his lower half. Without saying anything, you slid under the blanket and sat directly beside him, despite the space on the couch. 

“What movie?”

You look at the options on Netflix, “I don’t know.”

“You choose,” Mat decided, handing you the remote. 

“Why?” You laughed.

“You’re the guest.”

“Come on, Mat.”

You gave up on that argument quickly and just flicked through the app. Nothing piqued your interest, and Mat wasn’t any help. Then you came upon Molly’s Game. From the description, it was about an Olympian who runs a high-end poker game for the mafia and prominent stars who ends up on the radar of the FBI. It sounded exciting, and you hadn’t watched it, so you pressed play. 

The two of you sat watching the movie, alcoholic drink in hand. The occasional comment or questions asked between you about things that had happened recently. After a bit, you finally got comfy. You were leaning into Mat’s side, head on the shoulder. His arm slides up and around your shoulders. He was holding you tightly against his side. Both of you were settled. You came to trace shapes on his chest as you focused on the movie. His lightly ghosted up and down your back. 

It was quiet until Mat broke the silence between you both. “I forgot how easy it is with you.”

You felt that deeply. Whenever you and Mat had spent time together in the past, you didn’t have to try. Didn’t have to actively think about what to do. You both just worked so well together. Sometimes you wondered why he didn’t want a relationship with you if that was his thoughts. 

“Me too.”

You finished your drink quickly. It's likely quicker than you should have. Mat didn’t hesitate to grab your empty glass from your hand and get up to make you another drink. You watched as he walked around the couch and to the kitchen. Even twisting so you can lean on the back of the couch and watch him. He saw you looking at him and smiled at you. For a quick second, you felt those butterflies in your stomach, similar to when you two had first hooked up.

“Want to do a shot?” Mat asked as he finished making your drink.

Your eyes lit up at the suggestion. Quickly joining Mat at his alcohol stash. “Of what?”

“I don’t know.”

After having a flashback to having had many nights when you were younger doing shots, you knew what you wouldn’t shoot. “Anything but vodka.”

“How about Fireball?” Mat asked as he grabbed his half-empty bottle. 

“Sounds great.”

Mat poured out the two shots. Pouring on the smaller side as the shooters were quite large. You both clinked your glasses before throwing back the amber liquid. Cinnamon. Quite pleasant, you thought. You both put down the glass before sharing a laugh. That was when you looked up at Mat and saw how close you were. Without hesitating, you went in for the kiss. Sure, neither of you had discussed how the night would end between you, but it seemed like there was an underlying tension, sexual. 

You both smiled at each other and settled back onto the couch. You were drinking and paying little attention to the movie on the large screen. Most of your attention was on Mat. Your hand started to wander. Starting on his chest and then making your way up to his jaw. He currently had more stubble than you had seen him with in the past. 

“I like the scruff,” You comment. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Then silence once more. Both yours and Mat’s hands wandered, touching each other lightly. Nothing too inappropriate. Even the occasional snuggle into Mat’s chest resulted in his hand coming to scratch the back of your head lightly. Just comforting touches that you needed after the news you had heard earlier. 

You watched Mat skull the last bit of his beer, then place the empty bottle on the coffee table to his right. After handing him your drink to place on it, you struggle to get out of the tangled mess of blankets and legs. You made your way through the dark, well, low light, to the kitchen to grab a beer for the fridge. Mat watched in amusement as you walked a little tipsy.

“You didn’t have to,” Mat stated as you opened the fridge.

You grabbed the beer he was drinking, “Twist top?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool,” You hum before opening the bottle and returning to Mat’s side, handing him his drink before snuggling back to his side. Not without a quick peck to his lips. 

Midway through the movie and a few more drinks later, the kissing intensified. Your hand cups Mat’s scruffy jaw as he pulls you in closer. Fingers tangled into your hair. 

“Wanna move to the bedroom?” Mat mumbles against your lips.

“Sure.” Mat turned off the tv and placed the empty glass and bottles on the kitchen counter. You went to the bedroom while he did that. Placing your phone on charge and climbing in under the covers. 

Mat walked in and slipped off his t-shirt, revealing his abs. A sight you had missed. God, he was so good-looking. Angelic really. The light was changed to red, a staple between you and Mat when you were hooking up. It also doubled as a warning to Tito that you two were fucking. 

“Looking hot,” You grin as Mat makes his way to bed with you. 

With a hard tug, Mat falls on top of you. He dipped his head once more to capture your lips with his. You pressed your hips against him, feeling his hard-on under his sweats. Hands slid under your jumper. Pulling up the hoodie. Mat broke the kiss to slip off the article of clothing and throwing in the direction of your bag before returning to kiss your lips. 

“Mat,” You moaned as the brunette moved to kiss down your neck. 

He gently bit that sweet spot he had memorised, then smirked as you moaned again. “Found it.”

His words made you laugh lightly. Then cut off again by a moan since Mat slid a hand up into your hair. A tangled mess and slight tug. A staple move by the big-shot hockey player. In retaliation, you grazed your hands over his cock under his sweats, making Mat halt in his movements, a silent moan. You tug his sweatpants a little. 

“You want them off?” Mat smirks.

“Of course.”

Mat listens to your needs and stands up, gripping the waistband and sliding them down. His hard cock sprung out of the waistband. Slapping his abs with a satisfying skin-on-skin sound. 

“Your turn.” You lifted your hips, allowing Mat to slide off your sweatpants. Mat chuckled at your underwear. “You planned on getting some, didn’t you?”

“Can ya tell?” 

Without saying anymore, Mat slipped off your underwear and pulled your legs, sliding your body to the edge of the bed. You wrapped your legs around his waist. You needed him closer. 

“Mat…”

You reached your hands up and pulled him down to your lips. Lips. Tongues. Wandering hands. A little biting on your part. After you and Mat hooked up last time, you knew to hold back on the biting. You moved to kiss down Mat’s neck, nipping and sucking as you went. 

His fingers tangled into your hair to pull you away, “Careful. No marking, you know that.”

“I know, I know. I wasn’t planning on doing it.”

The following day you awoke to Mat lying shirtless beside you in bed. Little snores were the only sound echoing around the room. Your phone was suddenly receiving notifications, buzzing on the side table. 

“What time is it?” You mumble to yourself. Leaning over to look at your phone. The glowing white numbers. 6:00 AM. “Fuck.”

You had forgotten to change the sleep focus for last night. Usually, you’d be up for work at this time hence why your phone turned notifications back on. You flicked it back onto sleep focus and rolled over to curl into Mat’s side.

“What’s the time?” He mumbles, barely even awake.

“6.”

“Go back to sleep,” Mat huffed. 

For the next two hours, the pair of your drifted in and out of sleep. Either you would shuffle and wake Mat or vice versa. Then it got to the point you couldn’t be bothered to try to go back to sleep. Instead, you pulled up Instagram to scroll through whilst Mat slept. You knew Mat liked his sleep, and he had a later morning skate at 10 AM if you remember correctly. 

“Mat, it’s 8:30,” You mumbled when you noticed the time. Both of you needed to shower before leaving. And Mat had offered to drop you back at your hotel on his way to practice. 

The two of you fell into a routine of getting ready for the day. You showered before changing back into the clothes you wore to Mat’s. Mat jumped in the shower after you. He came out of the bathroom dressed in jeans and one of his many Islanders hoodies. Something that made him look so good. 

Mat came over to where you were sitting on his bed, slipping on your Apple Watch. He leant down and pressed a kiss to your lips once more. Probably the final one of the morning. “Want some food before I drop you off?”

“That sounds good.”

You grabbed your bag, and the pair of your made your way to Mat’s car. He had mentioned a bakery near your hotel that was good. It didn’t take too long… in city time that is. The two of you entered the cafe. Browsing all there was to choose from. After looking at all the baked goods, you decided to get juice—something to quell your unsettled stomach, hopefully. Mat stood before you, eyeing up something in the glass case. 

“What do you want?” Mat asked.

“Oh, I’m just getting a juice. Don’t feel like getting any food at the moment.” Mat plucked the juice bottle from your hands and placed it on the counter with his drink. You groaned, going to try to grab the drink back, but he smacked your hand away. “Mat, I can get my drink.”

“Don’t stress about it. I don’t mind.”

You didn’t expect Mat to pay for your stuff. Honestly, you hated having people pay for things for you. Mat was a good person, and you knew that. So it really shouldn’t have been a surprise. After he paid for your things, you both returned to his car, and he started to make his way to your hotel. It was quiet until you pulled into your hotel driveway. 

“Thank you for last night,” You stated as you grabbed your bag. “I need it.”

“Me too,” Mat smiles. 

“Good luck for tonight.”

Mat says a quick thank you. “Keep me updated.”

“Will do.”

“Bye.”

You send him one last smile. “Bye.”

TAG LIST:

@findapenny @mp0625 @hischierhaze @11zegras @lvrzegras @francesfarhadi @cixrosie @daisysthings @barzyblogbabe

[ilyasorokinn]

always a winner ― ilya sorokin

note, i love ilya, and can’t believe i haven’t written as many things as i have for other players. he’s literally the love of my life, and i’ve kind of neglected him lol. anyways, this fic is part of the "sorokin, party of four" series. check out this masterlist for more. another note, also, let's please not talk about how this is like a 300 years late. i'm so behind on things and so tired and i think i'm getting burn out? but idk so let's just enjoy that i wrote something :) all-star fics are in the works. last note, sorry one last note. in this fic, mila is 4 and victor isn't really in this, but he is 2 :) summary, regardless of the outcome, ilya sorokin is the best dad in the world to his kids. warnings, kids/children word count, 1286 words (a little short, i'm sorry. it's just ilya being cute with mila ig)

mila’s eyes were wide as she took in the converted football field. she was wearing her sorokin jacket and a beanie with a sequined ‘30’ on it. victor was only 2, so you left him with ilya's parents because you knew he wouldn't remember most things.

"mama, look!" mila pointed up at something before her attention was grabbed by something else. you tried your best to keep up with her but she was running on sugar and adrenaline, a dangerous combo for a toddler.

"i know," you laughed, "slow down, mimi." you called after her. you eventually spotted the girls and all the kids, standing off to the side of the field, talking and taking everything in as well, "look, there's your friends." she quickly spotted all the other kids and ran over to join them.

you followed after her a little slower, wrapping your jacket tighter around you and taking everything in. it still was mind-boggling to you, even a decade later, that this was your life. you were in metlife stadium, watching your husband play the sport he loved, surrounded by a group of girls doing the same thing. it was special.

"take it all in." kristy wrapped an arm around her shoulders, "it's magical."

"this is so insane." you laughed.

after bribing mila with some more sugar and almost having a meltdown, the guys finally came out. before family was let out onto the ice, all the media content was taken. once that was all taken care of, family was finally let onto the ice.

once he was able to, ilya immediately made his way over to you and snatched up mila, flipping her upside down, making her giggle like crazy.

"put me down, papa!" she giggled, trying to get out of his grasp. he put her back down and set her down on the bench. he made quick work of helping her tie her skates and helping her get her helmet and pads on.

after helping mila, he turned to you. even though you had been together for a decade and no matter how much you protested, he would always help you put your skates on.

he kneeled in front of you and grabbed your foot, tying your skate, "new trick?" mila asked. she had been taking skating lessons for a few weeks.

"you want to show everyone your new trick?" she nodded her head, "of course, you can," you smiled, kissing her head and switching legs so ilya could tie the other skate. once he was done, he helped you off the bench, and you each grabbed one of mila's hands, walking her over to the ice.

all around you, the rink was a buzz. everyone was skating around. kids were playing mini sticks, guys were skating around, girls were mingling and skating.

it took a few laps, but eventually, mila was comfortable with skating and let go of your hands and skated around. you and ilya followed behind her and when she did fall, ilya was quick to pick her up and soothe her before she could start crying.

ilya skated off to the bench and grabbed a stick he had brought for her and handed it to her. varlomov's kid was in front of the net, just like their dad, so mila winded up and skated shakily up to the net with the puck and managed to get it past them.

she turned around and looked at you, shocked that she had done it. you both gave her a thumbs up, "celly." you told her. she did a little celly, which the media team had caught on camera and would later be posted on the isles social media account.

she skated over to ilya, who picked her up and held her to his chest, "that was amazing, mimi." you cheered, patting her on the back.

she skated around a little more before she was distracted and started playing with the other kids. you managed to take lots of pictures and got a picture of mila with her favorite guy on the team, mat barzal, cause of course her favorite uncle is uncle maty.

mat carried her around the rink, making her laugh and giggle (which gave the media team more amazing content of mat with a child). you and sydney got pictures of matt holding mila and ilya holding winnie which melted your heart.

the next day, mila somehow overcame the sugar rush and was filled with even more energy. the entire way back to metlife, she was bouncing around in her seat in the car.

"mimi, calm down." you laughed, watching her talk to herself through the rearview mirror, "now remember, when we get there..."

"i know, i know. hold your hand and don't let go, i know." she sighed. you didn't have to look back to know she was rolling her eyes. you knew where she got her attitude from.

"good." you nodded. you looked back at victor, who, on the other hand, was as calm as a cucumber in his seat. he had been occupying himself and barely paying attention to his sister.

you arrived at metlife earlier than all the fans attending, and met up with a few other girls, as well as your parents and all of the family ilya had invited. it wasn't many people, but you were excited to see them.

after pregaming the game with a few of the girls, fans started to arrive. there was a good mixture of both rangers and islanders fans so you were excited. you had left mila and victor with ilya's parents and your's so you could go off with the girls to get snacks and drinks.

by the time you had returned, mila already had a bag of cotton candy and victor was asleep, his headphones on so he couldn't hear all the loud noise. when mila saw you, she looked at you, her eyes big and scared.

"who gave you cotton candy, miss mila?" you asked. without hesitation, she pointed over to your dad. you looked over at him and raised a brow.

"who am i to deny my grandchild?" he simply shrugged, accepting a piece of cotton candy mila was offering him. you shook your head and smiled before turning your attention to the game.

the first period of the game was strong. the isles were up 3-1 and everything was looking good. by the end of the second, it was 4-3 and by the end of the third, it was tied and mila was asleep.

then, 10 seconds into overtime, panarin scored and the rangers fans in the crowd went crazy. when the horn blared, an overwhelming feeling of sadness filled your heart. you knew ilya tried his best and he would probably beat himself up about it.

you left mila and victor with your parents and ilya's family, who would drive back to your home where they were all staying, and you would drive back with ilya.

you followed alexa, matilda, and emma down to meet up with the guys. when you saw ilya walk out of the locker room, you couldn't help but smile. he managed a sad smile back and made his way over to you.

no words were said as he wrapped his arms around you. you stayed like that for a few minutes, just wrapped in a hug. you pulled away and cupped his face, "i'm proud of you." you leaned your forehead against his.

he nodded, "you were amazing, ilya." he nodded again before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, "let's go home. order some sushi and go to sleep." you grabbed his hand and let him lead you over to his car.

-

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[fallinallincurls]

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. 

[drewsbuzzcut]

Inside Y/n Barzal’s Coach Hobo Bag | In The Bag | Vogue

Mat Barzal x model!fem!reader

A visceral in doses fic

Warnings: small mention of sex and I think that’s all…

Takes Place: Oct 2027 (fun fact: model is pregnant here, with AJ and she doesn’t even know it yet)

“Hey Vogue, I’m Y/n Barzal and this is “What’s In My Bag”,” you say straight to the camera with your famous, sparkling smile.

“This is my capacious bag,” you say with a giggle, bringing your purse onto your lap.

“She is a Coach purse. Specifically a brown leather, Madison Maggie Hobo,” you continue as you touch the random signs of wear and tear on your favorite accessory.

“Someone once asked me why my everyday bag is so big, and I just told them it’s because I’m a mother and wife. My purse literally holds my entire life. Anyways! First up are my lip products. My lip balm is from my best friend’s makeup line. It’s amazing. Next is my lip combo: Mac lip liner in cool spice and Mac lipstick in fleshpot. It’s my go-to and what I’m wearing at the moment.”

You swipe some of the lipstick on your lips, capping the tube and smacking your lips dramatically.

Digging in your purse, blindly, you pull out the next item. “A hockey puck! This is from yesterday’s Islanders game. My husband tossed it to me.“ You hold the puck close to your heart, feeling gooey about the little tradition. “He alternates giving pucks to my son and me. Oh and speaking of yesterday’s game, my bag usually has so many snacks, but Nolan and I ate them all last night,” you explain with a smirk.

“Does Mat always give pucks to you guys?” Someone behind the scenes asks.

“Every single home game. He never misses one unless he’s injured, or not playing for some reason,” you state.

“This is very special to me. It’s my good luck charm. After my husband and I moved in together, I painted the key I had for his apartment. There are different things to symbolize our relationship and it was a very fun, little project,” you sigh softly, holding the painted key out to the camera.

“Why is it your lucky charm?”

“It’s silly, but it seems like after he gave me this key to his apartment, everything fell into place. Our relationship blossomed so beautifully and our careers became even more successful than they were,” you say with a lovestruck smile.

“My digital camera,” you squeal after pulling it out.

“This is my prized possession, because it has so many pictures that I need to print. I have pictures from our honeymoon and our yearly trip to Italy.”

You click through the different images, settling on the one of Mat and Nolan sunbathing.

“This was a month or so ago in Italy. Nolan was in the pool the whole morning, so he wanted to rest on his daddy’s chest for the longest time,” you comment on the picture, turning the small camera to the one recording you.

Mat is wearing the softest smile and Nolan is sprawled out like a starfish on his dad’s chest.

“This one is of mom and dad in bed,” you stop to hold back a giggle. Your cheeks starts to heat up, but you do your best to contain it by biting on your lip.

Playfully rolling your eyes, you say, “we weren’t doing anything scandalous.” A lie. Mat had just finished feasting on you and wanted to take a picture of the both of you in post-coital bliss.

“We’re just cuddling and this picture is really cute. I love you, Mat,” you confessed and blow a kiss, knowing that your husband will be watching the video once it’s posted.

“Oh this is an important one! An extra pair of panties. You just never know when you might need them and I always like to be prepared,” you hum as you showcase a cotton thong.

“For those of you that are nosy, there’s a 13 on them. It’s my husband’s jersey number and my lucky number.” You slyly wink at the camera and shove them back inside the bag.

“This one is also important. My journal and pen. Sometimes inspiration strikes and I much rather write it physically than type it on my phone. You also never know when you might need a pen,” you claim, rapidly flipping through the filled in pages.

As you’re pulling out your wallet next, a condom accidentally comes with it. It’s caught between your fingers and a part of the wallet’s exterior.

“Oh my god!” You shout once you realize what else is in your hand.

“I am so sorry. Oh my god.” The words are muffled as you slap a hand over your face.

“This is so embarrassing. Is this even allowed? I’m so sorry,” you ramble with the condom clutched tightly in your hand.

“It’s fine. We’re all adults here,” one of the producers confirms.

“This is a condom. An old one that should actually be in the trash, because I’m not sure how long it’s been in my purse. Please protect yourself when having sex, and with proper protection that isn’t old,” you chuckle, cheeks dark red and eyes squeezed shut.

“You’re getting the uncensored version today,” you breathe out, fanning yourself off from the flames of embarrassment.

“Next up are some jewelry pieces that are extremely important to me. Right now they’re in these little cloth bags, because whenever I have a photo shoot I can’t have them on. I just had a shoot before this, so now is actually the perfect time to put them back on,” you mutter, pulling open the little sacks.

“My wedding rings. I can look at them all day,” you swoon.

“We got married some months ago and I’m just so in love. Especially because Barzy designed my rings himself. I love him so much.”

“This is my locket, also from my husband. On the inside is a picture of us kissing and 13 is engraved as you can see,” you show the locket before clasping it around your neck.

“Yes, another 13! There’s nothing wrong with me representing my man,” you point at the camera in a playful chastise.

“These are diapers and baby wipes,” you point out the obvious.

“And before anyone asks, yes, I do carry a diaper bag. These diapers and wipes are for emergencies because I like to be prepared,” you added with an assertive nod.

“And lastly,” you huff, flipping your hair and wiping away a nonexistent tear.

“We have Sparky the dragon. This is Nolan’s favorite thing ever. We have them all over the house and in all the cars. He cannot be without his favorite toy for more than 30 minutes, but as long as it isn’t a tablet or phone, it’s fine with me.”

“That’s everything I carry with me everywhere, except my car keys! Damn, sorry. I knew I was missing something. Anywho… thank you for watching and I’ll see you next time,” you say your goodbyes and blow a kiss to the camera.

a/n: This was very fun to write and I hope y’all enjoy it as much as I do🫶