#i don’t go here so i really only know barzy and marty but

[highdefinitions]

why do teams take photos like this

[senditcolton]

at least we were electrified

Does something exist if it doesn’t have a label? 

first part | playlist | moodboard | word count: 7.5k

a/n: we back baby! ya girl caught the mood again so you all get a fic (tit for tat, y’know). i also hope this soothes any who are reeling from some of the wild free agency news we have received! 

warnings: feminine reader, teammate’s sister, forbidden and slightly toxic relationship. smut! a lot of smut; oral (f receiving), fingering, penetrative sex (protected though!). slight edging, overstimulation, multiple orgasms (*cough* seven), mean dom!Marty (and I mean mean), dirty talk, praise & degradation and yeah, i’m, um... i’m going to hell

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!

“Hey,” you shout into your brother’s apartment, alerting him and Emily of your arrival. They had invited you over for dinner, just to hang out as a family. He would deny it if asked, but you knew that Scotty loved that you found a job and permanent residence in New York City and were therefore able to get together more frequently.

You liked having your brother close by as well. However – and you would also deny it if asked - he wasn’t the only reason you liked being close to the island.

“Hey,” you hear Scott’s voice behind you as you’re leaning down and taking off your shoes. “We need to talk.”

“Damn, I don’t even get to sit down and have a drink, Scotty?”

“It’s important,” he says and his tone catches your attention. It wasn’t particularly distraught but it was… perplexed? Nervous? You weren’t exactly sure how to describe it and so you straighten yourself up, connecting your gaze with him.

“Okay. What is it?”

“Matt.”

That one-syllable name causes your heart to drop to your stomach.

Yes, the… thing with Matt had continued long after that night in the bar bathroom. It was your dirty little secret, one that you thought you kept close and safe. But now, here’s Scotty – confronting you.

How could he possibly know? There was no chance he knew.

These thoughts race through your head before you silence them, taking a calming breath. Scotty might not know anything about you and Matt. This might be about something else entirely.

“What about him?” you ask, forcing the nonchalance into your voice.

“He’s going to ask you out.”

“Wait, what?”

“Barzy. He’s gonna ask you to be his plus one for the charity gala on Friday,” Scotty explains and the sound of the nickname has your heartrate decreasing.

That Mat. With one T. Not your Matt.  

“Oh… okay,” you reply, shaking off the leftover nerves, your voice accepting and slightly dismissive. Mostly because this was better information than what you had expected to fall from your brother’s lips. But when you look back at Scotty, that perplexing look is still on his face.

“How do you feel about that?” you ask, your brain suddenly realizing how awkward this entire situation must be for him.

“I really don’t know.”

“Do you want me to say no?”

“No, I, um… no?” Scotty replies, his words stilted and unsure causing your eyebrows to furrow.

“So, you want me to say yes?”

“No! I-it’s just, I, um.”

You can’t stop the bemused smile that appears on your lips as you watch your older brother struggle. Yeah, it was kind of embarrassing for both of you but if there was one thing you didn’t turn down, it was the opportunity to make fun of Scotty.

Your eyes stay on him as he pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration before letting out a sigh and connecting his eyes with yours again.

“I don’t want to influence your decisions. You can do whatever you want to do.”

“Okay.”

“Okay. Cool,” Scotty replies. A momentary silence stretches between the two of you before Scotty speaks again, throwing a thumbs up in your direction. “Glad we had this talk.”

You don’t bite back the cackle that falls from your lips as you walk towards him, throwing your arms around his shoulders in a hug.

“My God, Scotty. Is the thought of me dating your teammate that unbearable?”

“You don’t want to know the answer to that question,” he mutters into your shoulder, his arms tightening around you momentarily before pulling away and spinning towards the kitchen. “Come on, I need alcohol to help bleach that conversation from my brain.”

“So, I guess sleeping with Barzy is out of the question?” you tease at him and the only response you get is a middle finger thrown your direction before he completely disappears around the corner.

Another chuckle rumbles through you at your brother’s dramatics but you can’t stop the small pang in your heart at his words. Yeah, you were both talking about Barzy so maybe there was something about him that had Scotty worried. But you highly doubt that his reaction to you continually fucking his older teammate would be any better.

You push those thoughts out of your mind for now, joining Scotty and Emily at their dinner table, getting lost in conversation. It isn’t until you are back in the comfort of your own bed do they resurface.

Matt Martin used to be a bad idea. Now he was a bad habit. One that you couldn’t seem to quit.

When you got your job in the city, the person you texted after your brother and  parents was Matt. He responded quickly, telling you that he was happy for you and not so subtly telling you that how excited he was to still have you within reach. And when you got the keys to your apartment and finished moving in, Matt was the first person you invited over and he helped you… christen the place.

Yeah, sleeping with him once was a bad idea. But now, you didn’t know what to call the connection that you and Matt shared. It seemed to fall into this weird liminal space of being more than a booty call but less than a friends with benefits situation.

Almost every time you and Matt met up, he made it seem like a date, always bringing you into the city and exploring some new corner store or hole-in-the-wall restaurant before returning to tangle in your sheets. And every single time he took you apart, he did so in the sweetest of ways. But you weren’t what you’d consider friends. Because whenever the two of you interacted around other friends and teammates, he always kept a respectable distance, both physically and emotionally. He treated you like he should: the little sister of his teammate.

Every night after a team get-together, Matt always apologized for being distant in his own way – which usually involved his head being buried between your thighs – and it was easy to fall back into the rhythm that slowly defined your relationship.

You loved it. There was no way you could refute that fact. Sneaking around with Matt made you feel daring. The thrill of having him without anyone knowing left you giddy. You loved what your brief bold moment in that New York bar all those months ago had become, loved what you became when you were with him.

However, that excitement didn’t come with a label included. You had no idea what you meant to Matt Martin. You didn’t even really have an idea of what he meant to you.

And when you open your door the next day to find Mat Barzal on your doorstep with a bouquet of white roses in his arms, and he asks you if you would ‘do him the honor of accompanying him’ to the New York Islanders charity gala, you accept.

Because you and Matt Martin weren’t together. Not really.

However, that didn’t mean that you didn’t stop vying for his attention.

So, perhaps you spent the next few days wandering around the upscale boutiques of New York City. Perhaps you found a dress that was elegant enough for a gala but also perhaps had a high slit and highlighted all the best parts of you.

And perhaps when the day of the gala came and Barzy showed up at your apartment door with another bouquet, this time of bright red carnations, his jaw dropped to the floor when he saw you standing there.

“Wow – you look… wow,” Mat says and you can’t help but laugh.

“Thank you, Mat.”

He hands you the flowers and you quickly run to place them on your kitchen counter before taking Barzy’s arm as he leads you to the car.

The ride to the event is quick, the time being filled with small talk and some terrible singing. You��ll admit it; you had fun with Mat. But he was just a friend to you. Nothing more.

It also didn’t help that when you and Mat walked into the gala, your eyes immediately found Marty, the sight of him in his all-black suit making you weak in the knees.

And when his eyes landed on you…

Yeah, Mat Barzal was just a friend. It was hard to compete.

But as you watch Marty’s eyes hone in on where your hand was wrapped around Mat’s bicep, you can tell – even from across the ballroom – how his demeanor shifts. His gaze darts back up to meet yours in question, you can’t resist teasing Marty again.

Because yes, Barzy would never be more than a friend to you. But Matt didn’t need to know that.

Instead of silently replying to the curiosity shot your way, you turn to focus on Barzy, letting him lead you around the ballroom. You let him bring you to the bar, let him order you a glass of champagne and let the bubbles unwind you.

You flirt, laughing at his terrible jokes and making sure to always be touching him in some way; your knee against his thigh, hand on his forearm. You were good at it – it was almost all the same tactics your used on Marty in the bar a few months ago, only back then it meant something to you.

This time it meant something too, but this time, the aim wasn’t on the person you were flirting with. It was the person on the other side of the ballroom. And it seemed like your plan was working.

Every time you decided to sneak a glance back over towards Marty, his eyes were always connected to the two of you. There was a danger in his gaze, a warning. Of what, you weren’t sure. This night could easily end in sparks or go down in flames. But it was a feeling you were familiar with, the tightrope of possibilities similar to that first night of your tryst.

You weren’t concerned that you wouldn’t get what you wanted at the end of tonight. After all, that pendulum fell in your favor the last time.

However, the one thing you weren’t expecting was to end up really enjoying being with Barzy. He was charming, affectionate, and refreshingly uncomplicated. Every action had a clear intention behind it; either to show you how he felt towards you or for him to learn more about you. As a person, not just someone to sleep with at the end of the night.

It especially threw you through a loop when Scotty and Emily stopped at your table and he was able to laugh off your big brother’s joking threats, promising that he would make sure to take care of you, even going so far as to say that Scotty would have the first punch if he broke your heart. Well, maybe the second after you took your shot.

Mat understood you and he seemed to genuinely care about you. And halfway through the night, you forgot about your ulterior motive and just started to relax, enjoying the moments you shared with him by your side.

Even when he gets up from the seat next to yours, a playful smirk on his lips as he extends one of his hands out to you.

“May I have this dance?”

“Oh, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you say with a laugh. “I’m a terrible dancer.”

“Not one of the skills you picked up in your travels?” Mat teases and you playfully swat at his hand, faux-insulted by his chirp. The action doesn’t faze him as he leaves his palm upturned to you.

“Come on,” he tries again, his head nodding towards the dance floor. “I promise I won’t let you fall.”

The words soften your resolve and you allow your hand to slip into his and he leads you to the dance floor, spinning you under his arm before pulling you close. The hand not entwined with yours keeps a respectful place on your lower back as he sways you to the music.

“Have I told you that you look really beautiful tonight?” Mat asks, his hazel eyes gazing down at you. You return his words with a playful grin.

“You may have mentioned it once or twice.”

“Well, you do.”

The pure sincerity in his simple declaration allows your heart to settle in your chest, a sense of calm washing over you as you look around the room, the piano music floating through the air. It is enchanting, romantic. It was perfect in every sense of the word.

“Can I kiss you?”

That singular question is all it takes to shatter the illusion. Because it’s when you look back up at Mat, seeing him gaze at you, patiently and oh so politely awaiting your answer, do you realize that something was missing.

You liked Mat. Maybe in a different life, you would have been something more with him. But he didn’t make you feel the way Marty did.

A thought which was swiftly proven true when a strong hand landed on Mat’s shoulder before you could speak.

“Do you think I could cut in?” Matt Martin asks and the instant your eyes connect to his broad frame, your heart starts beating faster than lightning.

“Of course,” Barzy says, stepping aside and allowing the space that he used to occupy to be taken up by Marty. “I’ll get us some drinks for whenever you come back to the table,” he tells you, to which you respond with a small nod before he steps away.

You don’t meet Matt’s gaze for a moment, already able to feel the intensity and the weight of it on you. Instead, you watch Barzy depart until he disappears in the crowd of people. It is only then do you take a deep breath, steeling yourself before you dare to look back at Matt.

And the presence of him steals all the breath from your lungs.

“Hi sweetheart,” he says, smirking down at you, the rumble of his voice sending a rush of warmth through you. “Enjoying your night?”

It’s a loaded question, the answer to which could make or break whatever you wanted the outcome of this night to be. It was like a game of Russian Roulette, never knowing which shot would strike the fatal blow.

“It’s better now that you’re here,” you decide to reply with, going for flattery instead of teasing, not risking the real possibility of you already pushing him past his threshold. The smirk that Mat sends you is wicked, a stark contrast to the respectful positioning of his hands on your body.

“Oh really?” he asks, a singular eyebrow raising. “It seems like you were having plenty of fun with Barzy.”

Another rush of heat surges through you, this time in embarrassment from the statement that felt heavy with some sort of accusation that your brain couldn’t fully decipher.

“He’s into you, you know?” Matt continues, his head turning to locate the table where Barzy sat. “It’s obvious to everyone. You know it took him five days to pluck up the courage to ask Scotty for permission to ask you out? Five days.”

His blue eyes dart back down to you, that fucking smirk reappearing on his lips and you are unable to stop the shiver that runs through your body.

“He doesn’t know that you don’t need permission to do what you want. Right, sweetheart? Always love breaking the rules and pushing the limits, don’t you?”

It’s a rhetorical question as Matt doesn’t wait for an answer before continuing, his voice dropping lower and becoming hushed, always cognizant of the people around you.

“But I do know one place where you listen. Where you wait and say please and thank you for every single thing you’re given.”

The way he emphasizes each word almost makes your knees buckle. The crystal-clear memories of him above you, of you on your knees for him, flash through your mind. He reads your reaction like he always can and you feel the almost imperceptible way his fingers brush against your back, delicate but brimming with restraint.

“What do you say, sweetheart? Do you want to go back to Barzy who’s waiting for you at that table with champagne and sweet words?” Matt leans his head towards yours enough to whisper his next words, his breath fanning across the shell of your ear.

“Or do you want to take me home and show me what a good little slut you can be?”

If it wasn’t over for you before, you are done for as soon as the proposition registers. You can’t stop the way your hand tightens around his shoulder and when he leans back to look down at you once more, you know how you must look; eyes wide, pupils blown, lips slightly parted in want – no, need for the man standing in front of you.

You know what your answer is. It was a resounding yes; you wanted Matt to take you home. But you also knew it wouldn’t be that simple.

“How?” you ask, your voice lightly trembling. Matt doesn’t need clarification and you can see his mind working as he looks around the room.

“Go to the bathroom. Pretend to be sick; a headache, something you ate, whatever. I’ll go tell Mat what happened. He’ll come check on you, of course, and that’s when you tell him you need to get home. And when he inevitably offers you a ride, tell him that I already offered.”

You listen to his plan, nodding along to every step. A gasp falls from your lips as Marty spins you out of his hold and around, pulling you back in before swaying you gently. You let him lead you in the dance for a few more moments and your heartbeat doesn’t stop pounding when Matt lifts his hand up to cup your face, thumb brushing against your cheek.

“Darling… you’re looking a little pale,” he says, his words sounding oh so caring but the smirk that accompanies them is anything but. You lock your eyes with his and give a bare nod of your head before you are picking up your skirt and ‘rushing’ to the bathroom.

And moments later, when you find yourself sitting in Matt’s passenger seat, the sights of the city passing you by and the atmosphere between the two of you thick with tension and lust, you realize exactly what happened. 

There you were again, following Matt’s directions to a tee. Listening. Obeying.

It should’ve made you sick, should have made you nauseous that you would throw away the strength and independence you built up for a man.

But those thoughts disappear when Matt reaches over and places a hand on your upper thigh, lightly squeezing, the warmth of his palm seeping into your bare skin.

“You did such a good job, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his eyes still locked to the road as his hand creeps further up. It’s almost instinctive, the way you scoot down on your seat, thighs parting a little wider to give him more access. He doesn’t take the bait though, a deep chuckle rumbling from his lips.

“Patience, pretty girl. Maybe that’s what I need to teach you: patience.”

You think managing to survive the car ride to your apartment without him giving you an inkling of pleasure would be enough of a lesson in patience. But you bite back the retort and let him drive you down the city streets until he pulls into the garage.

You continue to match his restraint as the two of you walk into the building, doing nothing but accepting his arm as he leads you to the elevator, not even looking at him as the doors close, simply keeping your eyes forward to the buttons above, watching the numbers light up as you ascend.

It was torture. Pure and utter torture. But you knew that as soon as the two of you were behind closed doors, the pain of not touching him would be worth the pleasure he could pull from your body.

So, when the deadbolt locks into place behind you with a resounding click, your heart drops into your stomach with it, the anticipation hitting an all time high.

You stay standing in the middle of your living room, waiting, listening to fabric rustling as Matt takes off his suit jacket and tie. It only takes another moment before you feel his presence appear behind you, his hand caressing your shoulder. You lean back into his body as his hand creeps forward over your collarbones before coming to rest at the hollow of neck – an intoxicating necklace.

“Such a fucking gorgeous girl,” he mutters into your hair and his other arm wraps around your waist, pulling you close to him and there’s no stopping the gasp that falls at the feeling of him already half-hard against your back.

“Feel how hard you make me? My perfect little minx,” he continues, pressing his hips deeper into you, guiding you forward with nothing more than his body until you hit the wall, your head moving to the side in order to breathe as Matt pins you there.

“You should feel what you do to me,” you murmur, rolling your hips back against him in a gentle plea. Matt laughs again before his hand is falling, dipping into the slit of your skirt, his fingers achingly making their way up to your core. You mewl as his rough fingertips find the edge of your panties and the whines don’t stop as he delicately traces the pattern.

“These new?”

You don’t have time to answer an affirmative before he is spinning you, your back now against the wall as Matt drops to his knees in front of you, pulling the skirt up and to the side to expose your lace-covered core.

“Fuck,” he groans at the sight of the pale see-through fabric, his hand returning to dance across the edges. “You buy these for Mat? Plan on taking him home and fucking him like the pretty little slut you are?”

Another gasp is torn from your lips as he cups your pussy, the heel of his hand pressing up to give your clit the barest of friction. You thrust your hips forward, chasing the pleasure that Matt easily denies you.

“Answer me, sweetheart.”

“No,” you whisper out, looking down and locking your eyes with his in the dim light of your apartment. “They’re for you. Only you.”

“That’s right, baby. These are for me, no one else. All mine. Just like this pretty cunt is. Mine.”

He punctuates his words with another uptick of his hand, giving you just enough pressure to make your desire ratchet up another level.

“Matt��” you whine, hips moving again. “Please.”

“Like I said, patience darling.”

The frustrated huff is involuntary as it escapes your chest, your head thrown back against the wall. Matt’s only reply is a chuckle, his hand leaving your core momentarily before tugging at the waistband of your panties. He painstakingly pulls the lace down your legs and you manage to keep your balance as you step out of them, the cool air or your apartment a stark contrast to the heat between your thighs.

You watch as his thumb brushes across the fabric, another soft groan sounding from him as he feels the ruined material.

“So desperate for me,” he purrs, his attention snapping back to you. He doesn’t wait before leaning forward again, his lips now coming to brush against the front of your thighs, his hand caressing the soft skin of your leg.

You gasp as his hand hooks behind one of your knees, lifting and throwing your leg over his shoulder, opening you up to him. One of your hands digs into his hair as his lips return to press against your inner thigh, slowly creeping towards your core. You give his locks a light tug to pull him towards the one spot you really wanted.

Surprisingly, Matt lets you guide him and with a single look back up at you from behind heavy lashes, he finally closes his mouth around your pussy. The moan you let out is painted with relief at finally feeling his lips against you, his tongue tracing your folds before darting up to your clit.

Your moans increase in pitch, resonating from the highest part of your throat as Matt continues to work you over, his lips and tongue never resting, driving you wild. You can feel your orgasm slowly creeping up on you and your fingers burrow deeper into Matt’s hair in a silent warning. He doesn’t relent, continuing his ministrations until you are right there, standing over the precipice.

Then he pulls away.

The way you tug his hair could be considered painful, an unfiltered reaction to the feeling of his mouth departing, a desperate attempt to keep him there. Frustration flows through you as he continues to pull back and you feel your orgasm slipping away.

“Matt,” you whine, his name choppy as disappointed sobs hiccup from your lungs.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he asks, unfazed, his lips coming to press against your inner thigh.

“I was about to cum,” you pout, looking down at him. Matt only grins at the sight of your adorable frown before removing your leg from his shoulder, placing it back on the floor. He lifts himself up onto his feet, towering over you once more and it shouldn’t turn you on as you watch him lick his lips, tasting the arousal that still lingered there.

“I know.”

“Matt, please. Stop teasing me.”

“Patience.”

You know you shouldn’t but you can’t stop your eyes from rolling as he repeats that fucking word, heaving another frustrated sigh. When you look back, you can see his eyes harden, a single eyebrow raised in challenge.

The silent dare is too delicious to pass up. And you were too fond of playing with fire to let the opportunity slip through your hands.

“Maybe I should’ve taken Barzy home instead,” you quip. If you thought Matt’s eyes were dark before, you weren’t ready for the way those blue irises changed from their bright skies to stormy seas. But it just fuels you to continue. “I know he wouldn’t torture me like this.”

“Oh, so I’m torturing you, am I?”

You reply with a smug nod, a small hum of affirmation falling from you which quickly morphs into a gasp when Matt’s hands dart out to grasp your hips, pulling you off the wall and into his embrace.

“I don’t think you want to find out how mean I can be,” he whispers, those words sending a thrill down your spine. You feel the corners of your open mouth pull up in excitement as Matt locks eyes with you. “Oh, you do, don’t you?”

Your nod this time is enthusiastic, causing Matt to chuckle and you love how you can feel the vibrations of his laugh thrum against your chest.

“Jump,” he commands and you listen, hopping up so he can catch you, your legs hooking around his waist and arms locking around his shoulders. Matt’s own arm wraps around your back, keeping you in place as he starts to carry you down the hallway, one hand reaching down to give your ass a squeeze, a giggle escaping you at the action.

It’s not long before you are in your bedroom, Matt kicking the door closed behind him before setting your feet down on the plush carpet. His hands don’t leave your back as he reaches up the expanse of your dress before finding the zipper and slowly pulls it down, the fabric loosening around your body.

You don’t tease him, instead letting the dress fall from your frame and pool at your ankles, your body now fully exposed to him. You gently step out of the fabric as Matt steps back, his eyes raking up and down your frame.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he curses, one of his hands running through his hair as he takes you in. “So fucking beautiful.”

The way he praises you is just as intoxicating as every other word that falls from his mouth and there is no stopping the heat that creeps up your neck. Matt moves towards you, his hands falling onto your hips as he walks you backwards until your legs hit the edge of the mattress.

He softly pushes you down, your body bouncing as it hits the plush sheets, another groan sounding from Matt at the sight of you gazing up at him, a shy yet mischievous smile on your face. It doesn’t take him long to drape his body over yours, his frame covering you as he finally kisses you for the first time that night.

You would never get sick of kissing Matt Martin. The way his lips moved, the way his tongue pressed against yours always left you wanting more, your hands coming up to tangle in his hair again, pulling him deeper into the kiss.

The two of you stay like that for a moment, heavily making out before your hands start to wander across his shoulders and down his torso. Your fingers gather the soft cotton of his dress shirt and tug it out of his waistband. He moans into the kiss as your hands sneak beneath the fabric, the sensitive skin of your palms running over his tight abs, slightly pushing the shirt upwards, desperate to get it off him.

Matt understands your actions and breaks the kiss, pulling away from you as his hands make quick work of the buttons. His gaze stays locked on you as his fingers undo each small clasp and you gasp when one of his strong thighs slips between your legs, pressing against your still wet core, causing another flood of arousal to pool.

The shirt finally falls away and you take the moment to appreciate his broad upper body, your eyes tracing every muscle and scar that lines his torso. He smirks down at you, leaning over to quickly kiss you again before his lips start to wander across your jawline and begin to retreat down your body.

Matt doesn’t linger anywhere; doesn’t mark your collarbone or give attention to your breasts, skips right over your aching core. You think that perhaps this is him being mean but it doesn’t feel cruel when he presses kisses against your calves as he undoes the buckles of your heels.

And when his lips climb back up your legs and you let your thighs fall open, it feels more like heaven than anything else. He doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t tease before diving back in to your pussy, his tongue once again dipping into your folds and you moan, your hips bucking up to meet him. He lets you squirm, swiftly driving you to that edge once again, paying attention to every sound you give him to help you fall faster. Your moans increase, chest heaving as you start to reach that crest.

“Fuck, Matt, ‘m close,” you whimper out. Matt’s only response is for his tongue to dance upwards, flicking against your clit in that exquisite way. It only takes a few more movements of him against you before your orgasm hits, the waves of it crashing over you.

Matt continues his motions, prolonging your orgasm, making your breath catch in your throat. You half expect it, knowing that he loves to see you writhe underneath him. But when he doesn’t let up, a gasp of realization falls as you understand that he was not going to relent.

“Matt,” you whine as your core clenches around nothing, the aftershocks of your first orgasm still pulsing through you. Matt doesn’t reply to your whimper, only speeds up his ministrations, your head falling back against the sheets as the pleasure never has a chance to fade, only increasing as he continues to devour you.

His attention makes your second orgasm come swifter than the first, your muscles tightening as you feel it rush from your core, leaving every inch of your body thrumming. Matt starts to slow his movements and you let out a small sigh of relief.

However, that relief is quickly dashed when you glance down at him and see that goddamn devilish smirk on his face. He doesn’t say anything, just keeps grinning at you, studying your ever-changing expression as his hand sneaks up your thigh and you gasp as his fingers join his lips, the callused skin caressing your folds before plunging in.

You couldn’t stop the moan that falls even if you wanted to as your hips jolt; to meet his touch or pull away, you weren’t entirely certain. Matt throws his other strong arm across your lower stomach, pinning you in place as his fingers start to slowly thrust.

“Matt, please,” you whimper. “It’s too much.”

Your words finally pull his lips away from your core but his fingers remain, keeping their steady pace. You catch sight of his faux-confusion, a look you would smack off his face if you weren’t so wrecked already.

“Thought this is want you wanted, sweetheart,” he says, that condescending tone once again turning you on in ways you didn’t know it could. “Too damn needy to be patient,” he continues, his voice shifting from light and teasing to something darker. “So now, you’re going to get everything you want. And you’re going to take it like a good girl.”

His sentence is punctuated by his fingers curling up, grazing your sweet spot and that one brush combined with your already sensitive pussy causes another orgasm to crash into you, your head falling back as your hands dig into the fluffy sheets.

“Atta girl,” Matt whispers, his breath hot against your core as he watches your body tremble underneath him, your cunt clenching around his fingers. True to his word, he doesn’t stop his motions and continues to thrust and when the third orgasm barely subsides, his mouth reattaches to your clit.

One of your hands fly to his hair again, the overstimulation driving you wild, your chest heaving as you try to breathe. You know that if you want to stop, all you had to do was say the safe-word that he gave you when you first started sleeping together, when you first learned about the many ways Matt liked to take you apart.

But you didn’t want to. Because as excruciating as it was, the pleasure was overwhelming every other feeling.

And when he slips another finger into your aching pussy, you swear you can see stars. He continues to curl them, targeting your sweet spot with every thrust, his lips and tongue overworking your clit. You couldn’t keep your eyes open, too lost in the intensity of another orgasm hurtling towards you. Your hips attempt to roll but Matt keeps you pinned in place, his eyes occasionally darting up to you.

You can’t speak, you can’t think, you can barely breathe. All you could do was lie back and feel your orgasm creep closer and closer.

All it takes is one more movement of Matt’s tongue and fingers before your orgasm slams into you, your back arching off the bed. You can feel Matt groan as your cum gushes from you, coating his fingers and chin.

“Fuck, that’s it sweetheart. Fucking squirt for me like a good little slut,” he moans against you and his words alone have another orgasm building, a few tears escaping the corners of your eyes.

“Matt, too much,” you stutter out. “Too sensitive.”

“You can give me one more.”

You shake your head against the sheets, more tears falling as the next orgasm continues its approach.

“Come on, sweetheart. Wouldn’t give it to you if you couldn’t take it.”

If his degradation turned you on, his praise fueled you forward. You try to relax and let the orgasm come gently but your body is wound too tight and you had been dancing on that edge for far too long. You swear you almost black out when you hit your peak again, your entire body trembling underneath him, the pleasure fogging your brain. It’s only Matt’s voice that keeps your tethered to reality.

“There you go, just like that. Did so good, so good for me.”

He finally, finally, pulls away from you, withdrawing his mouth and fingers from you and you whine at the loss. He silences your moans by pulling you into another kiss. You sigh against his lips, the taste of your own arousal still thick on his tongue.

You continue to kiss, Matt’s hand brushing the sweat-drenched strands of your hair away from your forehead as you catch your breath. After a little while, he pushes back, lifting himself off the bed to loom over you, taking in the ruined state of your body; your cum-coated thighs, your pussy raw and sensitive.

“Look at you,” he muses. “Made such a mess for me.”

You hang on his every word, watching with baited breath as his hand falls to his belt, your eyes darting down to the obvious tent in his dress pants, half surprised at the restraint he managed to show. Maybe you did need Matt to teach you something about patience.

The sound of him undoing the buckle and the snap of the leather as he pulls it away from his body somehow sends another rush of heat down to your already spent core as you clench in anticipation. And when he kicks off the rest of his clothes and you see his cock slap against his stomach, your thighs fall open.

“Please, Matt. More.”

“More?” he asks, that patronizing confusion re-appearing in his voice. “You want more? I thought it was too much for you?”

The way he was able flip and switch the script has your mind reeling in the best way and it only kicks into overdrive when he reaches down and strokes himself, his pre-cum coating his length.

“I want your cock,” you whine, rolling your hips towards him again.

“Such a desperate little thing, aren’t you? My favorite little slut,” he moans, still stroking his length and the sight alone makes your mouth water. If it were any other night, you would want to taste him on your tongue but you were too tired to want anything except the feeling of him deep inside you.

“Well go on,” he continues, his voice snapping you from your daydream. “Beg for it like the needy whore you are.”

The torture of him standing above you, looking like a goddamn Adonis and now denying you was enough to make you snap, no hesitation coming from you as your words cascade from your lips.

“Please, Matt, please. I need it. Need to feel you inside me. I want it, please, please.” Absolute desire paints every word and you are not surprised when you feel a few more tears fall from your eyes. 

This is what Matt Martin did to you and you had no idea you could love it this much. The only thing that made it better is you knew that Matt loved it too, maybe even more than you did.

He steps away for a moment and your heart jolts, thinking he is going to be evil and leave your there. But instead, you watch as he walks over to your dresser, fishing out a condom and rolling it over his cock. He returns to his position over you, his hand reaching down to cup your face, thumb brushing your delicate skin, collecting the teardrops that lingered on your lower lashes.

“Look at these pretty tears,” he mutters, his thumb moving down to your lips and you immediately suck his finger into your mouth, tasting the tang of the salt on his skin. Matt moans as you suckle his thumb for a moment before releasing it with a wet pop.

“Please,” you whisper again. You feel the mattress sigh under Matt’s weight and you let out a sigh with it as he settles between your thighs. A hiss falls from your lips when Matt brushes the head of his dick through your folds once, the sensitivity almost agonizing. But he doesn’t torture you any more, choosing instead to slip into you with ease.

The two of you let out identical moans at the feeling; Matt hard and deep inside you – you warm and wet around him. He thrusts slowly, letting you get used to the feeling of him and your eyes roll back in your skull at the way he glides against your walls. It isn’t long until one of Matt’s hands finds your hip, pulling you into him as his pace quickens, leaving you breathless as you hang on to every word of praise falling from his lips.

“Fuck yes, sweetheart, you look so pretty like this. Pussy’s fucking made for me.”

You clench around him, hands scrambling against the sheets as you feel your high begin to build with every thrust of his hips. Matt knows it, feels your cunt fluttering around him and he shifts, deepening the angle of his cock, causing the head of it to hit your sweet spot.

You cum with a moan of his name, another orgasm washing over you, your body hot and lax as you clench around Matt, causing his hips to stutter at the feeling of your walls pulsing. His pace slows but doesn’t stop and you let out another sob, your face twisting as the sensitivity starts to border on painful.

“I know baby,” Matt whispers, his head dipping down, burying himself in the nape of your neck, pressing delicate kisses into your skin. “Just one more. Give me one more.”

You couldn’t fight him even if you wanted to. Instead, you just focus on the pleasure rushing through you; the feeling of him dragging against your walls, his lips sucking a hickey into your neck, marking you. Your final orgasm hits you unexpectedly and your hands jump up to Matt’s back, your nails digging into his skin, the sting of them pulling a moan from him.

“There she is, there’s my good girl,” he groans, looking down at you, drinking in every expression, every delicious sound he pulls from your lips. It doesn’t take him long to cum, his final thrust hitting you deeper than you thought possible, a gasp falling from your lips as he bites into your shoulder, muffling his moan. In a final burst of adrenaline, your legs hook around his hips, holding him in place, feeling him throb deep within you. A small voice wishes that you could feel his cum spilling inside you but you banish the thought when Matt pulls away.

A grimaced sigh falls from your chest as he removes himself from you entirely. You watch him with half-lidded eyes as he wanders over to the small trash bin next to your desk, discarding the condom before making his way back to you.

“Come on darling,” he says holding his hand out to you.

“No, too tired,” you mumble, pressing your cheek against your pillow.

“Sorry sweetheart, but we need to get you cleaned up. And these sheets also need to be cleaned because someone made a mess of them.”

The teasing lilt in his voice is enough for you to glare up as him, some energy returning to you.

“And whose fault is that?” you quip, your heart warming as you hear Matt laugh. He reaches down, grabbing your hand and helps pull you up into a sitting position.

“Now, lets get you into the shower while I change the bed sheets.”

“You really think I can stand after that?”

“A bath, then,” Matt chirps back, his eyes playfully rolling, causing a giggle to fall from you.

You let Matt scoop you up and carry you into the bathroom, placing you down into the cool porcelain and starting the water. He lets it warm up before plugging the drain and letting it fill, his hands running over your skin gently. When the water reaches your ribcage, he turns it off, leaving you to soak, letting the warmth relax your sore muscles while he grabs your spare sheets from the linen closet and goes to change the bed.

He comes back and helps you wash off, bringing you back to bed and tucking you under the covers before disappears to take a quick shower of his own.

When he returns and burrows next to you, his strong arm thrown over your waist, body pressed against yours and the smell of your body wash lingering on his skin, a sudden realization hits you, slamming your against your heart.

You never wanted him to leave. You wanted Matt Martin to be yours, in every sense of the word. You wanted it more than you ever wanted anything else.

And that you were fucked. Because that is not what this was.

You don’t know if it ever could be.

a/n deux: yes, i’m hitting you with a little angst because i am setting this up for a part three. so... i hope you enjoyed but i’ll also apologize in advance for what this will become.

tagging the babes @texanstarslove @smileysvech @comphy-and-cozy @cellythefloshie @laurenairay @dissonannce @barzysunflower 

[butgilinsky]

there are answers in your silence // mb

warning; language, asshole (kinda toxic ngl) barzy, a sprinkle of asshole tito too, toxic relationship, mentions of cheating, angst- the whole thing is angst, carter hart 

summary; where you and mat are falling apart faster than you can try to fix it. 

word count; 8.3k+

a/n: hi guys! this is a rewrite/continuation of this blurb i wrote. the main pairing is mat x reader but there are a lot of carter x reader themes throughout. there won’t be a part two seeing as i don’t normally write for carter, and i like where it left off. if you have any questions i’d be happy to answer any(: enjoy!

add yourself to my nhl taglist!

You loved your job, truly. You loved photography, and you loved the opportunities you’d been given by joining the islanders organization, but you managed to make things messy for yourself. It wasn’t written into your contract that you couldn’t date the players, but it was assumed that you would distance yourself from them. 

Mathew Barzal, however, threw caution to the wind when it came to that unspoken rule. 

You were knee deep in it by the time you realized it was a bad idea. Most days were fine, the two of you were professional in the walls of the rink and you knew how to keep it under control. On any other day, you were capable of keeping it all under control just fine, but going to the rink and smiling at Mat from across the halls was not the same as coming to the rink when the two of you were neck deep in an argument. An argument that had been oncoming for a long time now. 

You couldn’t focus on anything when you were arguing with Mat. You had fallen behind on editing this entire week, and now you were tiptoeing around the rink that you worked at because Mat was everywhere you turned, it seemed. 

You kept your post at the glass throughout the entirety of the game against the Devils, trying to get yourself out of your head when Mat was in your camera’s line of sight. You took pictures of the whole team, you had to, it was your job, but it was hard to do that when Mat was smiling like an idiot after Tito scored, and you had to take a picture of their shared celly. 

Even when he turned towards you and you sent him a gentle smile, the sight of his falling from his lips was heartbreaking. You knew he was mad at you, but the ache in your chest wasn’t able to recognize the fact that the two of you weren’t on the best terms. 

Truth be told, this was anything but out of the blue. Mat had been on edge for a while now, and while you knew it had everything to do with hockey and how he was playing, it wasn’t easy to accept everything he had been continuously throwing at you. You had a lot going on, just like he did, and you didn’t have the time nor energy to exude on this week-long argument. A week long argument that had eventually shifted into radio silence from your boyfriend. 

The next few days proved to be harder than you initially expected, no conclusion being found between the two of you. It was getting out of hand, if you were being honest, and now you had to fly to Philadelphia with the team for two games. You didn’t think all that much about the ride over to Philly until you were faced with your boyfriend happily sitting beside his best friend, not a seat for you in sight. 

You sat at the front of the plane, shoulder bumping against Marty’s while you kept your head low and hopefully out of sight. 

“What’s up with you and Barzy?” you huffed, shrugging gently and telling Matt that he could tell you as soon as he figured it out because at this point, you weren’t entirely sure what the two of you were arguing about either. All you knew was that Mat was mad at you and had been ignoring your calls and texts for the past three days. 

It was confusing to most, given that when you and Mat were on good terms, it was impossible to not see the two of you together. You were both all smiles and giggles when you were around each other, but not recently. You were worried that your spark had died out, that whatever you had built over the last year was fading away with every passing moment, and you were out of solutions. 

You had been lost in the Wells Fargo Center for upwards of thirty minutes when you ran into a boy who seemed like he could be your saving grace. He had a granola bar hanging out of his mouth and his eyes were glued to his phone screen while he walked down the hall in your direction. You weren’t sure who he was, but the Flyers shirt on his torso paired with the backwards hat on led you to believe he was a player and would therefore know the layout of the rink quite well. 

“Hey!” you called out, just loud enough to have him looking up from his phone and over to you. “I’m really sorry to bother you, but I have no idea where i’m going.”

He laughed gently and slid his phone into his back pocket, not overlooking the Islanders logo on your shirt or your name tag that hung around your neck. His eyes were soft and his smile was endearing in a time where you barely had anyone else look at you over the last few days. 

“No worries, though i’m not sure i should be helping the enemy.” you laughed gently, about to make a remark about the Flyers not being your favorite team either, but he spoke again before you had the chance. “Where do you need to be?”

Some time later after you learned that the boy’s name was Carter and he was the Flyers’ goalie, he showed you everywhere you’d need to be over the next few hours. He pointed out different rooms and halls that would be of great use to you and now the two of you were sitting in the middle of the empty seats, looking down on the empty ice. 

“It’s weird, seeing it like this.” Carter whispered softly, more to himself than to you, but it caught your ear nonetheless. 

“Not used to seeing it completely empty?” he shook his head, telling you that there’s usually always someone down there. Whether they’re cleaning or moving things around, there’s almost always somebody down there. 

“Why are you here all alone, by the way?” you hummed softly, letting out a deep sigh with a smile that Carter was easily able to identify as forced. “Don’t you have a hot shot boyfriend that could show you around?”

“And how would you know that?” your voice was light, playful, and it showed in your smile that Carter easily matched. 

“I’m not sure there’s a single person that doesn’t know what Mathew Barzal’s girlfriend looks like.” he tore his eyes away from the rink, looking over at you with a look that had your stomach turning, a lump starting to form in the pit of your throat. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” your voice was soft but the silence across the rest of the rink was enough to lift your words up to his ears, the far corner of his mouth twitching up ever so slightly as he registered them. 

“Y/n!” you jumped, startled by the outburst from the top of the section, craning your neck around to lock eyes with your boyfriend. “Where have you been?” 

You groaned, one that resided in the back of your throat and was only heard by Carter due to his close proximity. He sensed the agitation in your body language and the way your eyes fluttered shut while you took a deep breath to compose yourself. 

“Y/n!”

“I’m coming!” you yelled back, muttering a small ‘jesus’ under your breath before pushing yourself onto your feet. “Well, Mr. Hart, thank you for showing me around. I’d be lost without you, literally.” 

He laughed at your joke, though corny he thought it was cute. He shook your hand playfully and watched you climb the stairs to your boyfriend who was glaring at Carter even from his place all the way at the top of the section. 

“What are you doing down here?” 

“So you’re talking to me now?” His jaw clenched, muscles tensing as he soaked in your question. He had almost forgotten the two of you were arguing currently, too focused on getting you away from Carter to assess the situation properly. 

“What am i supposed to do? Watch you cozy up beside the goalie I'm about to score a hatty on?” in any other scenario, you’d be laughing, chirping him for claiming that he was going to score a hatty tonight, but you couldn’t do that right now. All you could do was laugh bitterly, focused on the fact that the only reason he was speaking to you for the first time in three days was rooted in jealousy. 

“I wasn't cozying up next to anybody, Mat. I was lost and he had time to spare so he showed me around the rink. That’s all-”

"That’s not exactly how it looked to me just now.” you rolled your eyes and walked past him, ducking around his shoulder and walking in the direction of the room Carter pointed out for you a few minutes earlier. “Y/n! We’re talking!” 

“I’m busy! We’ll talk later!” 

It felt like you were running across the arena during the game, opting to tie your hair back halfway through the first period when you realized you wouldn’t have your own post like you normally would. You were doing your best to get the best shots you could possibly get, but that unfortunately had you breathing heavily and worn out by the time the second intermission rolled around. 

Mat hadn’t scored once yet, and you could tell he was getting aggravated. He was playing rougher than he normally would, and you could see chirps being thrown around the ice, almost always directed towards your boyfriend. He took them in stride most times, only opting for a clenched jaw or maybe a hard hit against the boards. 

When the second intermission began, you were given the okay to take a breather from your job while your boss flipped through the photos on your camera, laughing when you opted to lean back in one of the stadium seats with your limbs spread out around you haphazardly. 

When you were switching sides for the nth time of the night, you ran into Carter again, decked out in his gear void of his helmet, the same charming smile shining in your direction once he saw you. 

“To what do I owe the honor?” he joked, earning a few questioning glances from the few teammates gathered around him, all turning towards you with soft smirks and knowing eyes. They knew who you were, a lot of guys in the league knew who you were. 

Everyone knew who Mathew Barzal was, and his need to show you off to the entire world once the two of you began dating was loud and in everyone’s face. Everyone who followed Mat on instagram or opened up a gossip article every now and again knew your face, knew how you looked tucked under Mat’s arm. It also didn’t help that the boys surrounding Carter had heard about his adventure with you around the rink earlier today. 

“Well if it isn’t Mrs. Barzal.” You bit the inside of your cheek, holding back the insult tickling the tip of your tongue and deciding to focus on Carter nudging him in the ribs. 

“Ignore him, he’s not even sure what the word filter means.” One of the taller ones, hair down to his shoulders and bright blue eyes sending you a gentle look, tried to assure you that his friend was anything but thoughtful in moments like these. 

“I guess that’s why they call him the team rat, huh?” Travis, who had no idea you even knew who he was, narrowed his eyes at you just before a small smile stretched across his lips. 

“How’s the game?” Carter’s smile practically hung off of his lips, confidence bursting at the seams as he silently referred to the fact that Mat had threatened him with a hatty not too long ago, and the Islanders had only scored once all night long, and it wasn’t even Mat’s. 

Going into the third period, the Flyers were up 4-1. 

“I plead the fifth.” you said gently, hearing a few laughs erupt all around you. 

“Looks like your hubby’s not getting his hatty tonight.” One of the boys who you didn’t know the name of sent you a gentle elbow into your arm, offering up a smile with his chirp. 

“Looks like he’s not getting a lot of things tonight.” your eyes found Carter, who was already looking at you with a wide smile. You took a deep breath, prying your eyes away from the boy and looking around the small circle that formed in the hall. “Well, boys, if you’ll excuse me-”

“Y/n!” you sighed then, unable to suppress a physical reaction to having your name yelled across the hall for the second time today. You were annoyed, given that this was only the second time Mat was speaking to you today and it had all of the same intentions as his last attempt. 

“Yes?” you turned over your shoulder to see not only Mat but Tito as well, both looking at you as if you’d grown two extra heads. Tito looked to Mat, expecting him to answer your questioning eyes, but he never did. He just stared at you, lips parted but never speaking. 

Truth be told, you needed him to say something. You needed him to say something because he was the one that had left you in the dark this week. He was the one that was going through a time so tough he took it out on you. You did your part, but Mat had yet to do his part, and it was killing you on the inside. 

“I have to go.” you took off in the direction you were originally walking, searching for your next post in the stands. 

You tried to distract yourself, but it didn’t seem to be working. Your hands were shaky while you tried to snap shots as much as you could, and when Mat had a breakdown on the ice, it all went even further downhill. 

Carter didn’t take the brute of it, which surprised you in all honesty, but you weren’t all that surprised when your number 13 was going hit for hit with their 11. Gloves were dropped in the last three minutes of the game, both of them walking away with sore knuckles and five minute majors. 

You weren’t even sure what started it, seeing as you were trying to snap a picture of Tito taking a shot on goal, the other two dropping their gloves on a different part of the ice and out of your view. You couldn’t watch it, instead dug your chin into your chest and tugged on the roots of your hair in frustration. You knew that the Flyers were going to win, given their four goal lead and the Islanders’ inability to get their shit together it seemed. You knew Mat was going to hit a rough practice tomorrow, and it somehow made you more excited to have a hotel room to yourself and the morning off. 

You didn’t see Mat until you got back to your room, shoulders slumped and exhaustion raking through your body. You pushed the door to your room open and jumped a foot in the air at the sight of your boyfriend sitting at the foot of the bed, hands clasped together in his lap and head hung low. He was anxious, you could tell by his posture and the fact that he wouldn’t meet your eyes. 

A sick feeling resided in your stomach when a minute passed and neither of you spoke up, both waiting for the other to take the leap. Mat tried to collect his thoughts, despite having plenty of time to do so while he waited for you. He wasn’t even sure how he made it back before you, if he was honest. 

“Where have you been?” it was a bad lead in retrospect, given that he showed no real care as to where you were at any other point in the week. That on top of the fact that he wasn’t supposed to be here in the first place made for a bad start to a hard conversation. 

“Working, Mat. I do more than snap pictures of the team at games and run back home.” he knew that. He knew because he’d been the one that woke up in the middle of the night to you relentlessly editing things and piecing things together for a deadline. He was the one that woke up to an empty bed, finding you posted up at the kitchen counter with a cup of coffee beside you and your head burning from the strain on your eyes. 

You didn’t, however, tell him exactly what you were doing. You were working, yes, but you kept specifics to yourself. He didn’t deserve specifics when he was acting like this. You deserved an apology, an explanation, quite literally anything more than you currently had before you had to give out your whereabouts. 

“I’m sorry this week’s been the way it has. I just- there’s a lot going on right now and I can’t get it all under control.” you sighed, setting your camera bag down on the desk before standing in front of Mat

 “It’s fine if you don’t have things under control all the time.” you set your hands on his shoulders and waited for him to look up at you, eyes filled with an emotion you couldn’t quite map out. “It’s not fine that you take things out on me when I didn’t cause you this distress.” 

“I know.” he spoke softly, understanding that he was doing something wrong but not entirely providing a solution for it, nor figuring out a way to fix it. “I’m going to figure it out. I’m sorry.” 

You nodded, accepting the soft kiss he silently asked for. You let him stay the night, though you couldn’t fall asleep. You leaned back into his chest, held his arm that was wrapped around you close to your chest, but you couldn’t sleep. You didn’t sleep for more than an hour or two before Mat’s alarm went off and he left for practice. 

You were able to sleep after Mat left, only logging about three hours before your own alarm went off and you had to make it to the rink. The day seemed to be uneventful for a while, but when you finished all of the things you had to do for the day and found a seemingly decent restaurant to stop in on your way back to the hotel, you were met with four smiling faces that you recognized easily. 

“Y/n!” Carter’s voice caught your ear easily, making you spin around in line, seeing the smiling boy give you a gentle wave from the table he was sitting at with the others, all who offered you a similar expression. 

You held up one of your fingers, seeing four boys nod at you in response as they waited for you to order your food. By the time you ordered and paid, grabbing the number that the cashier slid across the counter to you and spinning around, there was a chair at the end of the table that Travis was sitting in, leaving the spot in the booth beside Carter vacant. All four of the boys were pointing at the seat, ushering you into it with wide smiles. 

“Well this is a pleasant surprise.” you smiled warmly at the boys as you approached their table, sliding into the seat they vacated for you. 

“You’re telling us.” Carter offered, his smile cutting through you just like it did every other time it was given to you. 

Carter was cute, that much you could admit to. You hadn’t spent much time with him other than the other day when showed you around the rink, but you’d talked to him more than your own boyfriend in the past week so that was saying something. You were grateful for his hospitality, and even if you knew there was something else brewing beneath the surface, it wasn’t anything you were going to acknowledge and you certainly weren’t going to act on it. 

The rest of the boys were nice. Travis was a bit of a pest, but Nolan was able to keep him under control most of the time. They balanced each other out and you were aware of that from the very beginning. Joel was a nice kid, not the loudest in the room but certainly not the quietest either. Overall you had a good time sitting with and talking to them, appreciating the good company in a time where you had felt pretty isolated. 

They showed you a few places around Philly, sticking things within walking distance of the restaurant the five of you came from. It was fun, being able to forget about the chaos going on in your life for once. They even walked you back to your hotel, leaving you with each of their phone numbers to assist you in the rest of your time in Philly, and warm smiles. 

Just as they were leaving, Carter hung back for a bit to offer you a softer smile than the one he was giving you throughout the day, his eyes telling you that there was something brewing in his mind, something he had been holding back about all day. 

“I just wanted to say that you’re doing great. I don’t know what’s going on in your life, that much is obvious, but you deserve better.” he gave you one last smile and told you to call him if you needed anything at all before turning to catch up with his teammates. 

Carter’s words hung in your mind longer than you would’ve expected. They made you rethink everything that had occurred in your life over the last few months, every up and down, every bridge you built both by yourself and with others. You wondered if you were where you were supposed to be, if this is where you were meant to be in life and how long you were meant to be there. 

You loved Mat. You loved him completely, but there were things missing. You weren’t sure what it was, and part of you wanted to believe that you were just in the middle of a rough patch, but a greater part of you knew better. You knew that Mat was going through the thick of it, and your mind couldn’t help but wander over the chance that the time for you and Mat had run its course. 

You went another night without sleep, the stress from overthinking yourself into oblivion making it impossible to get any consistent sleep throughout the night. It showed in the way that your bags were deeper, darker than normal and the way you yawned every few minutes. However, instead of dozing off in your seat or complaining about your lack of sleep, you grabbed a coffee with two extra shots of espresso on your way to the rink and threw yourself into your work. 

You were neck deep in assignments, legs tucked under you and headphones stuck in your ears when a flash of blue entered your sight, prying your eyes away from your laptop and casting them up to the blue eyed boy from Quebec. He was looking at you like you’d done something wrong, like the world was on fire around you and you were holding a match. 

You and Tito were good friends, especially after you started dating Mat. with the two of them being inseparable and Mat making a special place for you in his life, you and Tito naturally spent a lot of time together. You were good friends, honestly, but there was never a time when Tito took your side over Mat’s. Sometimes he passed judgment without hearing every side of every story, but you understood. You knew that Mat needed people to lean on when the two of you were in the thick of it, you just wished it didn’t morph Tito’s opinion on you. 

“What can I do for you, Beau?” he hummed, a noise of disapproval that you had heard from him too many times to count. He sat beside you, not surprised to see you shut your laptop and turn your attention towards him. 

“The two of you need to figure this out soon. You need to figure out what’s wrong and how to fix it, and by god you need to get him out of his head.” You could tell his intentions were genuine, that he just wanted his friends to be happy, but he wanted the two of you to be happy together, and you weren’t sure there was any more room for that. 

“I’ve tried, Beau-”

“No, you haven’t. You haven’t tried, because when the two of you try, things get resolved.”

“You’re right. When the two of us try, we fix things. When the two of us work through things together, we come out of it alive. But you’re missing the big picture, Tito. the two of us aren’t trying. I’m trying. I’ve been trying. I try so hard, and he gives me absolutely nothing. He ignores me for days, only speaks to me when we fly out to a different city and he sees me interacting with somebody who isn’t him. It’s not my fault, Tito, and I know that’s hard for you to see because you’re so far up his ass that you can’t see the bigger picture but here I am. I’m here telling you how to see things for once and I’m begging you that you just hear me out.”

He was speechless, but nodded. He didn’t know what to say to you, but he wanted to hear you out because the crack in your voice and the exhaustion that was bringing tears to our eyes was breaking his heart right in front of you. 

“I’m trying, whole heartedly. I ask what’s wrong and I offer solutions, and he takes none of it. He comes into my hotel room with a key, that I'm not even sure how he got, and he tells me he’s sorry but then nothing changes. He stopped coming over after practices, and gets annoyed when I have deadlines I can’t miss. I try and he doesn’t, and if that makes us fall apart then so be it, Tito, because I can’t fucking do it anymore.” your eyes burned, filled to the brim with tears you tried to suppress as Tito looked at you like you were fragile. He looked at you like you were the broken one, like if he even touched you on the shoulder you’d break into a million pieces. 

“Y/n-”

“I have to go.” you stood up, grabbing your things that sat around your seat and took off in any direction that looked safe enough for you to escape the headspace you were slipping into. 

You’d made it down one hall and around a few corners before you ran into somebody, the impact shaking you enough to have you distracted from the intrusive thoughts you were having. You looked up, met with soft eyes and a look of concern that had your heart sinking further into your stomach than it already had been. His hands reached out, brushing hair out of your face and holding your head back long enough for him to try to piece together what could be wrong. 

“What happened?” your lip wobbled then, enough for your chin to twitch and have you bite down roughly on your bottom lip. 

Carter grabbed your hand, the one that wasn’t gripping onto your laptop, and pulled you into a room not too far from your place in the hall. It was a small room, only met for equipment that had no other home, but it was enough to get you out of the wide open hallway where anyone would be able to see the breakdown you were about to endure. 

He pried the items out of your arms, set them on the shelf beside you so your mind would be at ease with their safety, and wrapped his arms around you. He didn’t know you very well, but he saw the way you reacted to physical touch. He saw the way you leaned into hugs or shook people’s hands for a second longer than most. He made a judgment call within seconds, but he knew he did the right things when you pressed your face into his chest and let out sobs that you’d been holding back for weeks. 

He didn’t pester you nor rush you, just held you in the room that could be classified as a closet and let you get everything out. You clung to him, and he held you softly, hands running up and down your back in a soothing manner while he waited for you to catch your breath. 

When you did, he pulled back, soft smile still as heavy as it always had been. He waited for your cue, something to tell him it was okay to pry. He didn’t want to overstep your boundaries, and he had no idea where the lines were drawn so it was a dangerous game. 

“It’s too much.” you whispered softly, closing your eyes gently while Carter hummed, not entirely understanding your words. 

“What’s too much?”

“Everything. Everyone’s expectations, everyone’s thoughts and opinions. The fact that i’m trying to fix a relationship all on my own and still getting the heat for it not working out. Having a full time job where I can’t run away from problems in my personal life. I wish I was still in college, wish I wasn’t surrounded by these people who are staring at me like I’ve burned down the entire planet when I’m the only one that’s trying to save it.” 

He listened the whole way through, not interrupting nor giving his unwarranted thoughts and while it was just a common courtesy, it was groundbreaking for you. To be able to pour out everything you’re feeling and thinking without someone trying to pick your brain on the subject was refreshing. You couldn’t remember the last time you put everything out on the table like that without seeing it knocked off right after. 

“Hey” you looked up at him, sniffling softly and watching his lips turn up in a smile at the sound. “You’re okay. It’ll all be okay. If you feel invalidated or uncomfortable in the situation you’re in, there’s always an out. Even if it feels like there’s not, even if it feels impossible to claw your way to the exit, there’s always a way out. And if you need help getting there, I know a guy or two who’d be willing to help.” 

Carter had a way of knocking you off of your feet with a simple sentence. His words cut through you like a song you’d never heard before, like lyrics that dig so deep you feel like it was written just for you. Carter was picking your brain in the gentlest way possible, and you were eating up every single second of it. 

You thanked him for his comfort, for his ear and his wisdom. You were sure that there were things you would have to do in the coming days that would be harder than you could’ve ever imagined, but you were sure that they were necessary in order to better your life for yourself. 

You were going to get through this.

All was said and one until the door swung open and you stepped out of the equipment room, locking eyes with the one person on the Flyers bench that didn’t know the meaning of the word silence. Travis meant well most of the time, truly, but that didn’t mean you’d spill all of your secrets to him. 

But he smiled at you softly, noticing your red rimmed eyes and tear tracks on your cheek. He saw the look that Carter gave him from behind you and so he simply put his fingers up to his lips as if locking them shut and tossed the key over his shoulder. It was simple, but effective, and he truly had every intention of keeping the knowledge to himself, until he was standing on the ice face to face with the centerman that dropped his gloves opposite him the other night and well, Tk found an opening. 

You weren’t sure what was said, nor who started it, but you were sure that in the middle of the second period with a tied game, tensions were not high enough for there to be multiple scrums on the ice. 

No other fight mattered until your eyes locked in on Mat saying something, neck vein popping out and spit flying. Whatever he said must have struck a chord with Travis because in an instant, you saw Travis’s lips moving and Mat’s fist flying. It was his second fight in two games and it was highly unlike him to fight this often, but it seemed that he was on edge. 

The tension didn’t boil down for the rest of the game, chirps only growing more intense and penalties being called more often than not. It was a head banger, a nail biter, and you were almost distracted from your work to watch it. 

Mat was enraged by the time you got to him. His body picked up a couple more cuts and bruises, one that landed on his right cheek bone from a high stick in the beginning of the third. His knuckles were bruised from punching Tk and his eyes were darker than the bright blue color you adored. 

You knew it had everything to do with you when the rest of the team sent you careful looks, both of disapproval and warning. You knew something was wrong, something had happened and you were unintentionally standing in the middle of it. When Tito passed you, a scoff dropping from his lips and his shoulder knocking yours gently, you knew it was bad. 

“Beau?”

“Oh I'm not helping you out of this one.” he said softly, a careful look thrown over his shoulder at Mat who was glaring at you from his place against the wall. “You have to go fix that one by yourself.” 

You wanted to shove him away from you, wanted to tell him that he was being ridiculous and unfair, but you didn’t. Instead, you let him grab his back and walk out towards the bus that would take you all to the airport. 

“Mat-”

“I don’t want to hear it.” his voice was low and dark, an animosity dripping from his tongue that you’d never heard him use before. He walked past you, leaving the rest of the guys to let out low whistles and shoot you apologetic looks because in retrospect, they witnessed what happened on the ice. You still had no idea. 

“It’s bad, y/n.” You looked over at Marty who stood a few feet away from you, throwing his bag over his shoulder and shooting you a careful look. “I’ve never seen him so mad.” 

You sighed and thanked him, giving him one more thanks when he said he’d save you a seat on the plane and took off after Mat. he wasn’t too far ahead, but his angry strides took him far enough to send you into a jog through the facility. 

“Mat, wait! Mat! Jesus, Mat just talk to me!” he paused in stride, turned on the balls of his feet and glared into you from his place across the hall. 

“Frankly, I don’t want to hear it, y/n. I don’t want to talk to you, and I don’t want to be round you. I want you to leave me the fuck alone.” he went to turn again, hoping that that was good enough to get you off of his back for now. 

“So we’re just going to ignore it until it blows over? That’s not going to fix anything Mathew!” he dropped his bag, loud and harsh against the tile beneath his feet. He spun around and strode up to, face to face with mere inches between you. 

“There’s nothing to fix. You made your point, you chose your side, and you chose to throw me out to the wolves like I never meant anything to you. So yes, we’re going to ignore it for now but no, it won’t blow over. If you wanted to fix things you shouldn’t be shacking up with goalies in closets.” 

“I wasn’t shacking up with anybody in a closet you douche. I was crying in that closet because you’re too stubborn to talk to me. I’m trying so hard, and you’re giving me absolutely nothing to work with. You send Beau to convince me to fix things but you’re not even trying, Mat! You’re the one ignoring me and I’m supposed to fix things?”

“You’re not supposed to cheat on me!” you bit down on your bottom lip, trying to suppress the emotions bubbling over currently. You were trying to get through this conversation but it was defeating, and having him yell at you in front of his entire team was not helping. 

“I didn’t ch-”

“That’s bullshit! You expect me to believe you were just hanging out in there for fun?”

“She was crying, dude.” Mat looked over your shoulder at the same time you let out a string of profanities under your breath. Why he was here right now, you had no idea, but you had a feeling it wasn’t going to help any. 

“You’ve got some nerve to be here right now.” Carter shrugged, showing no intimidation towards Mat at all. He wasn’t scared, wasn’t backing down, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to stand by and watch Mat scream at you for something you didn’t even do. 

“You’ve got some nerve to scream at her like that.” When Mat moved you pressed both of your hands into his chest, steady and hard enough to keep him in his place, not even taking a step towards Carter. 

A silence hung in the air, thick and uncomfortable like polluted air that clogged your lungs. Everyone could feel it but nobody made a move. Nobody stood up or down, not weighing in to the conversation with a viewpoint on either side. Everyone simply watched, waiting for you or Mat to say something to the other one, or maybe for you to say something to Carter. 

Mat looked down at you, eyes still dark as they were earlier, jaw clenched and breathing fairly regular. He looked angry, angrier than he ever was off the ice. You wanted him to know you didn’t do anything with Carter, nothing more than crying into his chest about problems like the one you were currently stuck in. But then he spoke, he spoke and you felt everything around you wither away. 

“Get on the bus right now, or we’re through.” he picked up his bag and gave both you and Carter one final glance before taking a few steps backwards. He was waiting for you to move, waiting for you to choose your side right here, right now. 

“Y/n.” Carter’s voice was much more gentle than Mat’s, giving you a break from the screaming and crying. It broke his heart when you glanced over your shoulder and showcased red rimmed eyes and wet cheks just like you had earlier. He knew you were hurting, knew you were in a sticky situation that you couldn’t find your way out of, and all he wanted to do was help. 

“Now, y/n.” you looked back at Mat, who had stopped walking by now and was raising his eyebrows in your direction. 

It was harder than it should’ve been. You’d known Carter for just over 48 hours and while you appreciated everything he had done for you in the short amount of time, Mat was your boyfriend. Mat was there in times you thought you’d never make it out of. He knew you, knew how you operated. He knew things about you that you didn’t even know about yourself, and he held a piece of your heart in his hands, even if he didn’t protect it the way he used to. 

You couldn’t walk away from Mat, but there was a hesitation in your movements. Your slow movements as you wiped your cheeks and walked towards him, head hung low and accepting the arm that was thrown around your shoulders. 

You didn’t turn to see Carter’s face, didn’t even look up to see Mat’s. You didn’t want to see either of them, didn’t want to talk to them or hear what they had to say. All you wanted right now was to crawl into your bed at home and cast out the world around you. 

“You made the right choice, baby.” The kiss that dug into the side of your head was anything but comforting, if anything it was degrading. It was his way of showing you that choosing him was the easier path, that he would’ve flipped the world completely upside down if you had turned on your heels moments ago. 

You and Mat didn’t come to a conclusion that night. You didn’t resolve anything nor did you truly talk about anything. Instead, you let him into your bed and you let him drive away the pain that he caused over the course of the last few weeks. You let him convince you he’d be better, that he loved you and he’d do anything to be there for you. You let him convince you that he was the one for you, that nobody could make you feel the things that he did and while you believe all of this at one point, you weren’t sure you still did. 

You added another night to the count of sleepless ones, basking in your thoughts and the ache in your chest after Mat dozed off. Having him just behind you was oddly comforting despite the fact that thoughts in your head were too loud for sleep. 

Another week went by before anyone said anything, despite the few Flyers that were blowing your phone up with messages to check if you were okay and ask why you went with Mat when he clearly didn’t deserve an ounce of your attention. You explained that you loved him, that he was your boyfriend and you owed him a clean break if that’s what ended up happening. You also worked with the Islanders, and you couldn’t just stay in Philly with no way to get back home and hours away from work. 

Carter had been receptive and understanding, though you weren’t sure you expected much else from him. He didn’t expect you to stay, didn’t even expect you to choose him over Mat, but he expected you to do better for yourself. He expected you to be strong for yourself, to offer yourself a better future than the one you were seemingly drawing up for yourself. 

It wasn’t until you got a peculiar phone call that you were even thrown out of the routine of clawing your way through the night and chasing it down with a large coffee and one too many espresso shots. 

“Hello?”

“Hello, Ms. Y/l/n?” 

“This is she.” 

“Hi Ms. Y/l/n, this is Chuck Fletcher with the Philadelphia Flyers. I was wondering if you had a minute to talk.” 

You did a 180 after that phone call, pressed with another decision to make and seemingly no time to make it. You didn’t have many people to turn to about the decision, seeing as most all of your friends were biased in their decision making. Your friends loved Mat. They loved Mat and they loved going to Islanders games. 

You called Carter after you hung up the phone, anger bubbling over to the point of tears by the time he answered the phone just to let you rip into him. You accused him of getting you the job as the Flyers’ photographer just to have you closer to him, just to pry you away from Mat and New York as a whole. You accused him of not even knowing your skill level, just using this as a ploy to ask you on a date if you showed up. 

He listened the whole time, waited for a break in your words to ask if you were serious, to tell you that he’d seen your portfolio because his GM brought it over when he noticed Carter had spoken to you. He told you that he had no say in you getting this job offer other than him telling his GM about the sincere interactions he’d had with you. He put in a good word for your personality, but he never made a comment about your skill level. 

Now, you had a decision to make. A decision that would lead to many other decisions, so you thought. You thought you’d have to make a yes or no decision that would snowball into so many decisions you’d be left to suffocate in unanswered questions. Little did you know that by making one decision, the rest were made for you. 

“You’re doing what?” you sighed, trying to find the point in this conversation where you’d be left with a new job and a happy relationship, but it seemed as though that wasn’t in the cards for you. 

“I’m moving to Philly-”

“It’s because of him isn’t it?” you shook your head gently, feeling the weight of the world trying to shove you beneath the surface. It was weighing you down, pushing you further and further until you reached the core of it all. 

“It’s because it’s a better job for me, Mat.”

“How in the hell is a better job for you?” he didn’t believe you. Not after everything that happened. He didn’t think there were possibly any other explanations for your move. 

“It pays more, the cost of living is cheaper in Philadelphia, I get more benefits with the Flyers and I get-”

“A new boyfriend.” you paused, took a deep breath. You tried to breathe through the panic coursing through your body, tried to assure yourself that you must have heard him wrong.

“A what?”

“If you move to Philly, you get a new boyfriend. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? You don’t want me anymore, you want him. So he gets you a big new fancy job and you get to leave New York, right? Because you didn’t want to live in New York your whole life so this is the time to get out. This is the time for you to leave your life behind, to start fresh and meet new people. It’s time for you to start looking for studios, right? For you to start booking freelance shit.” 

He comes to the realization too late, when he’s already said enough things to hurt you for a lifetime. He realizes that you moving makes more sense than he wants it to. You never wanted to stay in New York for your whole life. Sure, if things with Mat ended up better than they did, you would’ve stayed for him in a heartbeat. You would’ve gone wherever his career took him because yours can truly be done anywhere, but he knew New York wasn’t your preferred state to live in. 

The Mat you fell in love with, the one that took you on dates to your favorite restaurants and brought you home flowers just because, was finally coming back to the surface. The one that offered you his heart on a platter without asking for it, and treated yours with the gentlest touch. You were seeing him again, for the first time in a long time. You wanted to hold onto him, to open up your heart and make room for him again but the truth was there was no more room. You’d vacated a space for him a long time ago and he threw it away. It was too late for that Mat to come back.

“It’s giving you room to grow right? But the growth is different this time. The growth is away from me, apart from me. The growth is individual now, all on your own, but that’s good. That’s good because you need to grow and I- I’m not right for you anymore.” he started shaking his head, letting the dam of tears that he had kept in for so long finally burst. 

You were there to catch him, to hold him tightly and kiss his damp cheeks. You were there to assure him that he deserves the world, that you tried to give that to him but truthfully, maybe you just weren’t trying the right things. You assured him that he wasn’t a bad person, that he wasn’t good for you but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be good for somebody else. 

You were there to catch Mat when he fell, and you helped him stand back up again. 

Now you were walking away, your head held high and a smile finally living on your lips as you assured him that this was good for both of you in more ways than one. You were going to be okay, and you were sure that Mat was going to be okay too. 

So you moved to Philly. You moved into an apartment not too far from the rink, one with a cheese steak place right around the corner. You started working with the Flyers and seemingly fell right into place with them. You made friends and found your footing, feeling like everything leading up to now was exactly for this. All of the pain and hardships you endured was for this, for you to feel like you had finally done the right thing for yourself rather than for everyone else. 

You made the right decision. 

-

italics mean it wouldn’t let me tag you!

barzy taglist; @extratragic @babytkachuks @heybarzy @teenagekook @stfukie @smit41 @kiedhara @sidscrosbyy @golfergirl810 @baby-cat-nol-pat @c-hartsy @storiesbymads @aasimarr​ @bucky-ish​

and the himbos, as always; @barzysthighs​ @damndunner​ @anxietyandtacos​ @dmonchld​ @sortagaysortahigh​ @bricksatlandyswindow​ 

[butgilinsky]

Hey babe

Maybe Mat barzal x reader

Where they are together, but they had a bit of a strong fight that makes them not talk for a week

And it's harder because she's the official photographer for the Islanders and they must see each other continuously at games and practices.

In a game against Philadelphia, Carter Hart flirts with her and Mat brings out his protective side

A sweet ending please🥺🥺

hi bby i’m sorry it took me forever omg 

a/n: i got carried away w this one so i cut it off but if you want a part 2 lmk((: 

you loved your job, truly. you loved photography, and you loved the opportunities you’d been given by joining the islanders organization, but you managed to make things messy for yourself. it wasn’t written into your contract hat you couldn’t date the players, but it was assumed that you would distance yourself from them. 

mathew barzal, however, threw caution to the wind when it came to that unspoken rule. 

you were knee deep in it by the time you realized it was a bad idea. most days were fine, the two of you were professional in the walls of the rink and you knew how to keep it under control. 

you were keeping it all under control just fine, but going to the rink and smiling at mat from across the halls was not the same as coming to the rink when the two of you were neck deep in an argument. you couldn’t focus on anything when you were arguing with mat. you had fallen behind on editing this entire week, and now you were tip toeing around the rink that you worked at because mat was everywhere you turned, it seemed. 

you kept your post at the glass throughout the entirety of the game, trying to get yourself out of your head when mat was in your camera’s line of sight. you took pictures of the whole team, you had to, it was your job, but it was hard to do that when mat was smiling like an idiot after tito scored, and you had to take a picture of their shared celly. 

even when he turned towards you and you sent him a gentle smile, the sight of his falling from his lips was heart breaking. you knew he was mad at you, but the ache in your chest wasn’t able to recognize the fact that the two of you weren’t on the best times. 

the next few days proved to be harder than you expected, no conclusion being found between the two of you. it was getting out of hand, if you were being honest, and now you had to fly to Philadelphia with the team. you didn’t think all that much about the ride over to Philly until you were faced with your boyfriend happily sitting beside his best friend, not a seat for you in sight. 

you sat at the front of the plane, shoulder bumping against marty’s while you kept your head low and hopefully out of sight. 

“what’s up with you and barzy?” you huffed, shrugging gently and telling matt that he could tell you as soon as he figured it out because at this point, you weren’t entirely sure what the two of you were arguing about either. all you knew was that mat was mad at you and had been ignoring your calls and texts for the past three days. 

you had been lost in the wells fargo center for upwards of thirty minutes when you ran into a boy who seemed like he could be your saving grace. he had a granola bar hanging out of his mouth and his eyes were glued to his phone screen while he walked down the hall. you weren’t sure who he was, but the flyers shirt on his torso paired with the backwards hat on led you to believe he was a player and would therefore know the layout of the rink quite well. 

“hey!” you called out, just loud enough to have him looking up from his phone and over to you. “i’m really sorry to bother you, but i have no idea where i’m going.”

he laughed gently and slid his phone into his back pocket, not overlooking the islanders logo on your shirt or your name tag that hung around your neck. his eyes were soft and his smile was endearing in a time where you barely had anyone else look at you over the last few days. 

“no worries, though i’m not sure i should be helping the enemy.” you laughed gently, about to make a remark about the flyers not being your favorite team either, but he spoke again before you had the chance. “where do you need to be?”

some time later after the boy, that you learned was the goalie and named carter, showed you everywhere you’d need to be over the next few hours, the two of you were sitting in the middle of the empty seats, looking down on the empty ice. 

“it’s weird, seeing it like this.” carter whispered softly, more to himself than to you, but it caught your ear nonetheless. 

“not used to seeing it completely empty?” he shook his head, told you that there’s usually always someone down there. whether they’re cleaning or moving things around, there’s almost always somebody down there. 

“why are you here all alone, by the way?” you hummed softly, letting out a deep sigh with a smile that carter was easily able to identify as forced. “don’t you have a hot shot boyfriend?”

“and how would you know that?” your voice was light, playful, and it showed in your smile that carter easily matched. 

“i’m not sure there’s a single person that doesn’t know what mathew barzal’s girlfriend looks like.” he tore his eyes away from the rink, looking over at you with a look that had your stomach turning, a lump starting to form in the pit of your throat. 

“what’s that supposed to mean?” your voice was soft but the silence across the rest of the rink was enough to lift your words up to his ears, the far corner of his mouth twitching up ever so slightly as he registered them. 

“y/n!” you jumped, startled by the outburst from the top of the section, craning your neck around to lock eyes with your boyfriend. “where have you been?” 

you groaned, one that resided in the back of your throat and was only heard by carter due to his close proximity. he sensed the agitation in your body language and the way your eyes fluttered shut while you took a deep breath to compose yourself. 

“y/n!”

“i’m coming!” you yelled back, muttering a small ‘jesus’ under your breath before pushing yourself onto your feet. “well, mr. hart, thank you for showing me around. i’d be lost without you, literally.” 

he laughed at your joke, though corny he thought it was cute. he shook your hand playfully and watched you climb the stairs to your boyfriend who was glaring at carter even from his place all the way at the top of the section. 

“so you’re talking to me now?” mat tore his eyes away from carter to glare at you, his arms still folded over his chest and his jaw clenched. 

“what am i supposed to do? watch you cozy up beside the goalie i’m about to score a hatty on?” in any other scenario, you’d be laughing, chirping him for claiming that he was going to score a hatty tonight, but you couldn’t do that right now. all you could do was laugh bitterly, focused on the fact that the only reason he was speaking to you for the first time in three days was rooted in jealousy. 

“i wasn’t cozying up next to anybody, mat. i was lost and he had time to spare so he showed me around the rink. that’s all-”

"that’s not exactly how it looked to me just now.” you rolled your eyes and walked past him, ducking around his shoulder and walking in the direction of the room carter pointed out for you a few minutes earlier. “y/n! we’re talking!” 

“i’m busy! we’ll talk later!” 

part 2???