#mat barzal fluff

[chukys-mouthguard]

almost something

genre: angst, fluff ending

featuring: mat barzal x female reader

request: yes

note: longer fic adapted from this blurb

Pacing the floor, you couldn’t but wonder how much longer he’d leave you waiting. While you were used to waiting for most of the crowd to clear, that being part of the deal that you weren’t to show any PDA, this was getting excessive.

You and Mat weren’t dating, but you also weren’t just friends. It was fucking complicated and you hated it, to be blunt.

Watching all the girlfriends and wives adorned in their significant other’s jersey numbers, getting to kiss them after games no matter who was around, it hurt. That was all you ever wanted with Mat, but he unfortunately had his boundaries. Though you couldn’t be that mad because you did agree to them after all.

After 8 months you surely would’ve expected those boundaries to go away, yet here you were. Hiding in the corner, despite a handful of the guys knowing you and Mat were secretly a thing. And surely the WAGS would catch on to constantly seeing you around after games.

“Mat, wait!”

As soon as Mat appeared he was being called to the side by Bo Horvat’s wife. Rolling your eyes you resumed your spot against the wall and continued to wait.

“I wanted to introduce you to my friend Taylor.”

Mat smiled and said hello, the two chatting briefly before Mat excused himself, trying to not be rude but also not seem too interested.

As the crowd in the family area began to dissipate, Mat finally gave you the time of day.

“Hey you, ready to go?”

“Is it safe to talk to you? You sure no one is around?” Peeking left to right you joked, Mat not amused as he rolled his eyes.

“Oh hush. Don’t be so dramatic. You know I don’t want all the attention.”

Mat always had a different excuse. Sometimes it was wanting to be private with his relationships, others it was that he wasn’t ready to commit. You’d lost track of how many reasons he’d given for not being able to call you his girlfriend.

The things you’d wanted to experience with him all seeming like they’d never be yours to have. Wearing his jersey number proudly to games, flaunting your love for him on your social media, even just holding his hand as you left the arena. The littlest things seeming taboo to even bring up to him, knowing he’d tell you that we’ve had this conversation before.

But after this long, you had hoped that conversation would be different.

As you sat in the passenger seat of Mat’s car and headed home, you questioned how you’d ended up here. How did the first night you met, a chance encounter that almost seemed like fate, lead you to eight months of being an almost something secret to him?

As you swayed to the music, your third vodka soda giving you the liquid courage to let loose on your first night out in lord knows how long, you felt a hand lightly grab a hold of your waist.

Normally, you’d push away any creep that approached and tried to put a hand on you. But out of the corner of your eye you saw him, and you couldn’t help but blush.

“I was wondering if you were going to finally work up the courage to come over and say something.”

Sensing you were okay with his hand on your waist Mat moved in closer. The smell of his cologne flooding your system as you could feel the smirk on his lips as his face brushed against yours.

“Oh trust me, I wasn’t letting you get away without saying something. I told my friends that I had to make you mine.”

“Don’t say that if you don’t plan on backing it up.”

Though you’d met on a night out, Mat was serious about you, to a point. Not ghosting you the next day or letting you be a quick fling. And behind closed doors, he told you all the things you wanted to hear, did the things you’d expect of a boyfriend. But once in public, it was like none of that ever existed to him.

The entire car ride was silent, and he knew you were upset. It wasn’t the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last.

As he parked the car you two headed inside, you not bothering to let him open your door for you. Just wanting to get inside and go to sleep, try and avoid another argument over the same old story.

“Can you just talk to me? Say something?”

Mat pleaded as he followed you up the stairs to his bedroom, where you had already starting getting changed for bed.

“What do you want me to say? Because it’s nothing you haven’t heard one hundred times already.”

He sighed as he sat on the edge of the bed, watching as you moved to the bathroom to take off your makeup. Knowing there wasn’t much he could say to try and make the situation better, because truly he didn’t have a good response.

“What do you want from me? I, I just don’t think it’s the right time to take things to the next level, with us.”

“Are you sure it’s just the timing that’s wrong Mat?”

He looked at you a bit taken aback as you’d raised your voice, not something typical of you. This wasn’t something you enjoyed discussing because it never got resolved, and with how long you’ve been going through this with Mat, the light at the end of the tunnel didn’t seem much closer. And you were growing tired.

“Do you remember what you told me the first night we met? That you told your friends I’m gonna make that girl mine. And it’s been eight months but you’re too fucking scared to commit and actually call me yours. You say it’s the timing that’s wrong, and this is best right now. Maybe it’s best for you, but it sure as hell hurts me.”

Mat watched as you tried to keep yourself calm, despite the tears that were welling up in your eyes.

“Seeing the wives and girlfriends get to wear jerseys, hug and kiss their significant others after games. Seeing them post their significant others on their social media. So many things I’d love to be able to do with you and I can’t, because I’m a big secret to you. So sure, you can say it’s the timing. But something tells me it’s way fucking more than that. And if that’s the case, that I’m not good enough to be more than just an almost something, then why the fuck am I here?”

Leaning against the bathroom counter you stared him down, waiting for him to say something, anything. His gaze fixated on the floor as sighed.

“What do you want me to say?”

“The truth! Stop toying with my emotions and leading me on. I’ve been so fucking good to you for almost a year now, but I’m not good enough to be your girlfriend? Are you just taking advantage of having me around? I want to get to have you, every piece of you. After games, at team events, in fucking public. I don’t want to only get to have you in private.”

Your voice trailing off as you were exhausted of having this argument with Mat. Stopping yourself from getting worked up because what was the point? You’d have this fight, he’d do his best to convince you to stick around in the hopes of things getting better, but they would never change.

“Maybe I’m scared, okay?”

His voice barely above a whisper as he was unsure about his words. Though you were all ears, finally seeming like you would get some type of answer.

“Maybe I’m scared because I want those things, believe me I do. But I’m scared because I know what you deserve, and what if I can’t be that for you. This, no commitment, it’s easy for me. Because I’m not worrying about you constantly. I’m not wondering if I’m doing my job as a boyfriend. If I’m meeting your expectations. But if we take that next step, things are gonna change. And, I just, I don’t know if I’m ready for that. I like how things are, and I feel that’s how they should stay.”

Nodding your head as you took a deep breath, you weren’t even upset anymore. Just numb to the feeling of constantly not being good enough for Mat to fight for. Left feeling like there’s something wrong with you that’s making him scared to take the next step.

“You do realize, nothing would fucking change right? Just because I get to call you my boyfriend, that doesn’t come with a new list of rules or expectations.”

He sat in silence as you threw your clothes from earlier back on, not bothering to spend the night if he had made up his mind this wasn’t going anywhere. Needing to take some time and truly figure things out for yourself.

“I’m not interested in setting a standard, or forcing you to be any type of way, I just want to be able to look at you and know that you’re mine. To know that you tell people I’m your girl. I’m just sick and tired of being kept in the dark. So when you figure out whether or not you’re willing to lose me, over being too scared to take that next step, let me know.”

-

It had been a little over a week since you’d left Mat’s house following the argument. He’d reached out, but you weren’t quick to respond. Trying to give yourself time to decide if you were fine being strung along with no real possibility of commitment in sight. You wanted to move on, block his number and be done with him. But your heart couldn’t let you do that easily. The what ifs constantly in the back of your mind.

What if he finally gave you what you wanted? What if he finally did what he said he was going to do all those months ago? What if he stopped being so scared of shit that hasn’t happened yet?

Tonight the Islanders were back on home ice after a quick 2 game road trip, Mat sending you a ticket the morning of, per usual. And despite your anger over the situation between the two of you, you still decided to go, per usual.

He’d asked you to please come and see him after the game, regardless if deep down you were still mad and wanting to punch him in the face.

So there you were, claiming your familiar spot on the wall to watch all the wives and girlfriends greeting their significant others after the game. Soon enough Mat emerged from the locker room, Bo Horvat’s wife trying to connect him and her friend once again. This time Mat barely flashing a smile as he hurried over to you.

“You do realize there’s still tons of people down here right? They are obviously going to-“

Before you could finish Mat pressed his lips to yours, catching you off guard as your hands moved to cup his cheeks as you deepened the kiss. Heart racing as you were shocked by his actions, but not wanting it to stop. This being something you’d hoped for but never imagined happening.

As you pulled away, you noticed the looks on the faces of the wives and girlfriends. Slightly chuckling to yourself as you felt a blush coming over you.

“I’m not willing to lose you because I’m too scared to admit that I want this. I want you, and every piece of you. All the time, not just in private. And I want you to have every piece of me, regardless of who is watching.”

Brushing your thumb over his cheek you felt your heart ache at his words, completely unprepared to hear them despite wanting them for so long.

“I, I, I don’t even know what to say right now. I’m just, shocked!”

Mat laughed as he took your hand in his, leading you past the crowd and to his car.

“Well, for starters, you could say yes to being my girlfriend?”

[fallinallincurls]

The Moment I Knew

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

hope you enjoy!! feedback is always appreciated! xx

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

word count: 2.4k

This was not how this night was supposed to go.

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

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

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

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

He promised he would be.

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

How could he? How could he forget?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And that’s when the anger sets in.

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

Until tonight.

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

You deserve better than that.

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

Starting now.

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

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

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

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

That’s the moment you know.

This is it.

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry, too.” 

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

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

~~~~

It all happens in slow motion.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Always, baby.” 

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

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

[v6quewrlds]

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

❝ guilty conscience, m. barzal. ❞  ‎ ‎ ┉  

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

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

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

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 3.6k.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was all so raw, so primal.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[islesnucks]

𝓿𝓸𝓲𝓬𝓮𝓶𝓪𝓲𝓵 - Mathew Barzal x Reader

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mat.” you picked up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you, Maty.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

NYI vs. TBL - November 5th

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

NYI vs. CGY - November 7th

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

NYI vs. SEA - November 9th

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

NYI vs. VAN - November 11th

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

NYI vs. NYR - November 16th

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

NYI vs. PIT - November 18th

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

NYI vs. DET - November 20th

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

NYI vs. DAL - November 23th

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

NYI vs. STL - November 26th

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

NYI vs. CHI - November 28th

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

NYI vs. NYR - November 30th

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

-

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

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

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

“Hello?”

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

“Mat? What are you doing here?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Other problems are gonna come up.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you.” you finally whispered.

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

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

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

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

-

NYI vs. MTL - December 1st

“Hey! Good luck tonight babe-”

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

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

“I love you too.”

-

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

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

taglist:

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

[residenthughes]

slow sundays - mat barzal

pairing: mat barzal x gender neutral reader

word count: 1k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[drewsbuzzcut]

TOPLESS!

Mat Barzal x model!fem!reader

A visceral in doses fic

Warnings: smut (oral) in slightly dangerous conditions- don’t try this at home

Takes place August 2026

Mat can’t keep his eyes off the way your hips sway underneath your white, linen dress. Did he mention that it’s strapless, too? Anywhere and everywhere is truly your runway. You effortlessly retrieve your keys off the entry table, swinging them around your finger like you always do.

God. Mat so badly wants to lift the skirt of your dress to expose those pretty lace panties you’re wearing underneath.

“You coming, hotshot?” You turn around and ask when you notice he’s frozen behind you, eyes burning holes into your lower half.

Your fiancé shakes the depraved thoughts from his mind and follows you to your car. His hand smacks your ass, making you squeal and turn around to playfully chastise him. Your scolding gets silenced by Mat slanting his lips over yours. His hands find your hips and push you back against your convertible. The tip of his tongue sneaks between the seam of your lips, but your tongue pushes back. You lick into each other’s mouths and let your hands roam freely, feeling up his back while he paws at your ass. He takes your bottom lip between his teeth and tugs at it, enough for your moans to vibrate through his body.

You pull away for a breath of air, smiling giddily when you see Mat’s pink cheeks and swollen lips. His eyes are dark like glowing embers of a fire.

“What?” He questions when he notices your dazed expression. He nudges his nose into yours, making you laugh and squeeze him tighter to you.

“You want to drive my car?” You ask after a moment of silence.

Mat pulls away from where he was nuzzling your neck and smelling your heavenly perfume. His hand falls from your waist down to the leg you have around his hip. His eyebrows are raised and his eyes are wide. He never thought he’d ever hear those words fall from your lips.

“Seriously?”

You nod with a small smirk.

“Fuck yes!” Mat cheers, his lips landing back on yours.

You giggle at his reaction and move your mouth to his jaw, sucking the flesh for a quick second.

You spend a few more minutes making out, battling over who takes control. You so badly want to rip off his belt and untuck his button up from his pants, but you can’t wrinkle his outfit. You’re not exactly pressed for time, but you don’t want to push it too much. This photoshoot is important to the both of you; it highlights and celebrates your recent engagement.

“Should we go topless?” You whisper into the kiss.

“Hell yeah,” he agrees easily, his voice light and airy.

His greedy hands move to the top of your dress, attempting to pull the material down to expose your boobs.

“I meant the car not my dress,” you lightly shove at his chest and maneuver your outfit back into place.

“Right,” he concurs with his signature pout.

“Get in the driver’s seat before I change my mind.” Your words have Mat moving before you can even finish your sentence.

You have a lengthy drive ahead of you, but you’re perfectly distracted by Mat. The windows are down, the wind sweeping through your hair.

Deftones’ “Change,” plays on full blast, vibing with the thick tension that has you clenching your thighs. Mat looks so cool and confident driving your car with ease. One hand’s on the wheel while the other sits on your thigh. His gold Rolex gleams the same way your engagement ring does, making you look at your newest edition with an elated smile.

Minutes pass and you continue to wriggle around in your seat, pressing your thighs together for a fraction of the friction you desire. You’re not sure if it’s the heat getting to you, but you’re not thinking about anything other than the fact that you really want Mat’s cock down your throat.

Without thinking too much about it, you set a hand on his stern shoulder. You rub it gently and eventually let your fingers stroke the side of his neck. You see the vein there start to pop out and the very noticeable gulp he takes. You know your eyes are burning holes into the side of his face. Slowly you slide your hand down his chest and to the top of his thigh.

“What’re you up to?” Your fiancé asks.

You guide your fingers to the zipper of his pants, fiddling with it until he starts to squirm.

“How do you feel about me giving you head? Right here. Right now,” you whisper in his ear and peck the area beneath.

“Shi- shit,” his words fail him as you completely pull down the zipper and yank his pants down.

Who are you to deny yourself happiness?

“I need you to stay focused on the road. Okay, baby?”

Mat dazedly nods his head and white knuckles the steering wheel.

You jerk his already hardening length until it’s stiff and waiting for the heat of your mouth. You press a soft kiss to the tip and flick your eyes up so you can watch the way he reacts. You bring your thumb to the slit, and spread the milky white pearls around while you lick up the vein on the underside.

“Fuck, babe,” Mat groans.

“Hush, Maty.” You see the chills spread over his skin as you talk closely to his ear. Wanting to see him crumble, you take his earlobe into your mouth. You know how much it drives him crazy.

You lean back down and suck his head into your mouth, your tongue circles around him which makes him let out a gasp. A soft hum leaves your mouth and vibrates through his member, making Mat’s head spin. Teasingly you drag your tongue back down his shaft and then blow soft puffs of air onto his wet skin. The slight jolt of his thighs makes you smirk deviously.

Finally, you take him down your throat while your hand jerks whatever your mouth can’t take. Your other hand squeezes his thigh, a weak attempt at keeping him still.

You lower and raise your head at a slow pace, wanting to tease him. When Mat is in a state of euphoria, he hates when things start to slow down because his hips always become erratic. He craves control, but he also craves the feeling of your lips around him.

He places his free hand at the base of your head, so he can try to control the way you move up and down. His hand eventually falls slack when you swallow around him, making him buck his hips up in surprise.

His balls tighten at the suction and the way you gag around him. There’s a vicious knot forming in his stomach and it’s on the edge of snapping.

“Just like that, pretty girl. Fuck,” Mat moans.

As you continue to take him, deeper and deeper, you can feel the car accelerate on the empty road. You assume his body is starting to tense which makes his foot put pressure on the gas. You know he’s about to orgasm. Your fiancé always goes stiff before his body relaxes in the ecstasy of his release.

“You better not crash my fucking car,” you rasp, catching his eye when he takes a quick glance at you. He almost unleashes his load right then and there. You’re teary eyed with spit dripping down your chin.

With a wink, you lower your mouth over his cock again. Your tongue massages his underside and you start to feel him pulsing and become extra heavy. You come up, but only to take his leaking tip between your lips and suck. His hand finds the back of your neck, squeezing the moment you reach down to fondle his balls.

“Shit. Shit. I’m going to cum,” Mat whines.

You don’t let up the suction around the head of his length. You graciously take every drop of his release and even milk him until he’s over sensitive, his hand slipping off the wheel and his head tipping back.

Before the car can have an opportunity to go off road, you straighten out the steering wheel.

“Oh my god,” he huffs, body vibrating and chest heaving.

You grab his chin, turning his face so that his eyes are on yours. You flit your gaze from Mat back to the road to make sure that you’re still the only car driving. Staring straight into his eyes, you hold out your tongue to show him his release and the way it pools there. He stares at the milky liquid and his eyes roll to the back of his head when you swallow it. A moan crawls up your throat and echoes around the both of you.

“You’re insane,” Mat says, putting his hands back on the wheel and straightening himself out.

“Yeah, well, you love me for it,” you giggle and place him back in his pants.

“Fuck yeah I do,” Mat confirms and brings you in for a quick kiss on the lips.

[wintfleur]

omg heyyy, I’d love to read something of how they would react if Juliette, mat and Quinn are out on a date night, and then when they’re out they get swarmed by paps and they’re kind of taking up their personal space and Juliette starts getting anxious??🤍

ᥫ᭡ Lights, camera, acción!

﹕─┈ pairings ( Mat barzal x Leclerc f1 driver oc! x Quinn Hughes )

°. — details ( g; angsty. w; angst, the paps being fucking creeps. Mentions of the paps trying to see under Julie’s dress. wc; 2.2k )

au masterlist - everything for the AU is under #🍂 ͡ ꒱ Juliette Leclerc

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( hi lovely , tysm for sending in a request !! This is like the first fic I’ve really written for this au so I had so much fun !! So sorry it took so long to get out !! Hope you all enjoy it , and please let me know what you guys think !! )

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( also !! I know this is a bit unrealistic because of the privacy laws and restrictions on professional photography in Monaco . . . but let’s just pretend those don’t exist for the sake of this fic please )

“We watched that last time” Quinn complained as he set down his glass of wine on the fine white tablecloth. The linen was so soft, softer than some blankets that he's slept on in the hotels he's stayed at, but he didn't expect anything less from the very nice restaurant Juliette had taken them too. 

He licked his lips, cleaning them of any remnants of the red wine that he knew wouldn't be able to pronounce correctly. What he did know was that his girlfriend sounded incredibly hot pronouncing it and he knew Mat felt the same way with how he bit his lip and adjusted in his seat, turning his attention towards the beautiful view of the sunset covered sky that they got from sitting on the patio. 

“So? Then we can watch the second one” Mat was quick to come up with a solution to their ongoing problem of picking a movie for tonight. Mat wanted to watch The Hangover again, Quinn didn't, and Julie was not going to get between them on this topic again. 

“What do you think sweetheart?” Mat turned his playful glare away from Quinn and to Juliette who had her elbow on the table, her chin in her palm as she watched the two playfully argue with a fond smile on her red lips, her own glass of wine long forgotten. 

“I think” Juliette leaned closer to the two as she spoke slowly, the chill air of Monaco giving her bare arms and legs goosebumps. She watched as both of their gazes fell to her cleavage, lingering on the necklace with their initials decorating her neck. She could tell by the way both of their breaths hitched that they thought she was going to turn there night towards a different direction. Julie gave them a teasing smirk as she continued “That I'm going to pick the movie tonight” 

“So, what you're saying is that we're watching twilight again?” Quinn teased with a smile as he leaned back in his chair, just itching to slip out of his whitebutton up shirt that Mat had picked out for him. Julie had a habit of watching the same group of movies depending on the time of the year and how she felt. And she was really feeling Edward Cullen as of late. 

“I'll even let you guys pick which one!” Julie giggled as she reached for her glass, taking a large sip of the expensive wine. Mat and Quinn could definitely tell that the wine was starting to get to her, she was far more giggly than usual. And with how she kept on nudging her stiletto foot against their leg, touchy as well. Two Telltale signs that she was tipsy. 

Mat and Quinn got lost in their own thoughts as they looked at their girlfriend who sat across from them, their thoughts very similar. Julie looked so ethereal under the fairy lights that hung across the patio, her smile and the look in her eyes were driving them crazy. They both desperately wanted to go home . . . or at least make it to the car. 

Quinn cleared his throat and turned the conversation into a different direction, he could see the look in Mat’s eyes, and they still had to wait for their desert to arrive, and mat wasn't one with patience. Julie slowly sipped on her wine as she listened to her boys talk, tilting her head to look out at the night sky with watchful eyes, just taking in the sweet moment of being with her lovers, in her home city. 

The sweet moment was ruined when she felt a cold chill run down her back, and it was like the calm air around them totally shifted into a tense and uncomfortable feeling. She felt like she was being watched. She looked back to Quinn and Mat who were smiling all lovey to each other, neither of them seems to have the same feeling she did. 

She sat up straight in her chair and quickly looked around the empty patio when she heard the subtle sound of a clicking. That anxiousness and fear started creeping up in her bones at the thought of them being watched, please not again. She cut off their conversation with her anxious tone “Did you hear that?” 

Mat and Quinn were quick to halt their conversation when they heard the desperation in her voice, a look of worry coming across both of their faces. Quinn was the first one to speak up while Mat reached across the table to rest his hand on Julie's trembling hand that rested on the table, caressing her soft skin with his thumb “No, what did you hear?” 

“I could have sworn I heard a camera click” Julie frowned as she looked behind her one more time, all she could see was the building next door and a little bit of the busy street. She couldn't see anything from the ground level. Quinn also looked around and he couldn't see much from where they sat “Maybe you misheard? 

Click!

The throuples heads all snapped towards the sound, Mat moved his hands from Quinn's thigh and Julie's hand and stood up from his chair and walked past the empty table next them to see over the protective railing. His eyes widen when he sees a man standing next to a light post on the street, a big black camera in his hands, pointed right at them. Mat clenched his fists as he hissed in anger “What the fuck” 

“Come on we're leaving” Quinn sighed as he stood up from his chair, holding his hand out to help Julie up. Julie was quick to get up and hold onto Quinn's arm, the world slightly spinning from her getting up so fast while being tipsy. Mat flips the man off before turning around and making his way back to the table, pulling his wallet out and leaving several bills on the table, not caring if he overpaid, it would be a nice tip. 

He followed them off the balcony and through the restaurant to the back exit that led to where her car was parked. Julie leaned against Quinn's side as he led them towards the door, mat was practically seething as he walked behind them, he hated how insensitive people were, it was disgusting how the paparazzi's treated Julie. 

Mat rested his hand on Quinn's lower back as he moved in front of them to open the door for them, he was angry, but he still made sure to smile at them both as they walked out of the door. Quinn could see the anger in mat’s eyes, and he could see the anxiety in Julie’s, he hated how such a good date night turned sour because some people were such fucking creeps. 

Quinn wrapped his arm around her shoulder, and she snuggled closer to him, his body warmth protecting her from the chill breeze of Monte Carlo. Mat quickened his steps so he could walk on the other side of Julie, his shoulders were tense as he kept on looking around them, hoping that his gut was wrong and that there weren't more paparazzi. 

They were quiet as they walked to the small car park, but the silence was quickly gone as they turned the corner to the car park. Julie let out a gasp of surprise and stepped back in shock at the loud shouts and flashes from the pictures being taken. Quinn was quick to gently pull Julie behind him, hiding her from the paparazzi that stood next to their car waiting for them. 

“Juliette! Juliette smile!” The paparazzi all screamed their names, shouting out questions and demands. The three of them knew better and kept their mouths closed, not giving them any attention that they desired. Julie winced and closed her eyes; every loud click and shouts made her flinch and move closer to Quinn who was leading her towards the car. 

Mat quickly pulled out the keys and unlocked the car for them to quickly get in, standing behind them protectively as the paparazzi's moved closer to them, they were surrounded, and mat was doing everything to hold back and not shove them away. Julie squeezed her eyes shut and trusted Quinn to lead her, her heart felt like it was going to shoot out of her chest. The flashing lights and the shouting made quick work to give her a headache, the wine in her bloodstream not helping. 

Quinn quickly opened the backseat door and helped Julie in the car while Mat got in the driver's seat. Quinn quickly stood behind her as she got in when he noticed one of the paparazzi crouching down, hoping to see up her dress. Quinn sent him a heated glare before getting in the backseat with her and closing the door. Mat quickly locked the doors and started the car. 

Julie slumped in the middle seat, leaning her head back with her eyes still closed as she tried to calm down. Quinn moved closer to her and softly brushed her hair out of her face, leaning down to place a soft kiss on her forehead as he whispered “It's okay honey, they can't get to us in here. Your safe” 

“Those fucking creeps, there lucky i didn't run them over” Mat hissed angrily with a scoff as he pulled out of the parking lot and into the streets. Quinn kisses Julie's forehead again as she cuddles into his side, Quinn says Mat's name in a calm town, wanting him to calm down before he gets too worked up. 

Mat lets out a heavy breath telling himself to calm down, he quickly looks in the rearview mirror and frowns when he sees the upset look on Julie's face, Quinn was playing with her trembling fingers, knowing that it would help calm her down. Mat asks softly, "Sweetheart, are you okay?”

“I’m sorry that I ruined our date night” Julie murmured sadly, so quietly that Mat almost didn't hear her from the front seat, Ignoring her boyfriend's question. Juliette had terrible luck with the paparazzi, they never left her alone, to the point where she’s had to move twice from the fear of her being watched at her home. A fear that made her anxiety even worse. 

Mat’s heart broke at how dejected she sounded, and he wished he could just give her a big hug and kiss all her sadness away; he would make sure to do so when they got home. It hurt both of their hearts to hear those words coming out of her mouth, especially when it's definitely not her fault. Quinn frowned and continued to play with her hands and hair “it's not your fault angel, please don't say that” 

“Yeah, it's those assholes' faults, besides we have a whole lot of night left” Mat was quick to reassure her, they hated seeing her upset and sad. Mat made eye contact with Julie through the rearview mirror when she lifted her head from Quinn's chest. Mat sent her a flirtatious wink “And i know a lot of ways we can enjoy out night” 

A small chuckle leaves Julie’s lips at Mat’s flirting, he never failed to make her smile. Both of them smiled at the sound of her laughter, happy to have cheered her up. Quinn pressed a quick kiss to her temple before saying sweetly “There’s that pretty smile we missed so much” 

Julie felt her heart flutter as she tilted her head to look up at Quinn, he looked so handsome. He had some stubble from not shaving this morning, his longer hair was a little messy, and God that smile on his lips. Quinn looks down at her with a teasing smirk before glancing at mat “Awe look Shes blushing too” 

“Where did your dirty little mind go sweetheart?” Mat teased as he leaned back in the driver's seat, his right hand falling in his lap as he drove with one hand. He glanced at her through the rearview mirror as he continues to speak “I was talking about us cuddling on the couch watching twilight and eating some sweets” 

Quinn laughs along with Mat when Juliette lets out a loud groan at their teasing. She playfully pushed Quinn away, but he just grabbed her hands and pulled her closer, she was practically in his lap now. Quinn gently cupped her chin and pulled her into a soft kiss. Julie hummed and closed her eyes, her hand coming up to cup his jaw as the kiss got heated. Julie could taste the wine on his tongue, and she wanted more. 

Mat bit his lip to hold in his groan at the sight of the making out in the back of the car, having to stop himself from pressing hard on the gas to get home faster. Julie slowly pulled away from the kiss and sat back in her seat in the middle, crossing her arms over her chest with an embarrassed pout “I hate you both” 

“No, you don’t” Mat smiled as he pulled into the street that led to the apartment building where Julie's penthouse was located. Julie scooted forward in her seat, leaning forward between the driver and passengers' seat to place a quick kiss on his before falling back in her seat with a surprised squeal when mat suddenly drove over a bump, Quinn had grabbed her, and his look of worry turns into a smile at the giggle she let out. 

 “No, no i don't” 

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( this is so poorly written omg I’m gonna sob 💔 )

°. — taglist ( @lovings4turn @toasttt11 @cixrosie @ru-kru @alwaysclassyeagle @theopenlocker @lavisenri @callsignwidow @willowpains @winterbarnesblog @yoontwin )

©️WINTFLEUR

[bordysbae]

29. “i like that nickname" with mat barzal you call him husband for a tiktok and he absolutely loves it and kisses the reader hella bc of it

“future husband”

mathew barzal x reader

ok let’s ignore the fact that the read needs two phones to make this work ok thanks 😆

🦋 BORDYSBAE’S 500 CELLY!

— ୨୧ —

you secretly set up the phone and it begins recording. you then dial the number of the restaurant in which you’re making reservations for. your boyfriend mat is sat next to you on the couch doing something on his phone not paying attention.

“hi! i’d like to make a reservation for two at 7:30,” you say to the woman on the other end of the phone.

“alright! are there any children in your party?” she asks, just incase they need to grab a high chair. you internally let out a sigh, thankful she asked cause now your plan will work perfectly.

“no, no children. just for me and my husband,” you say. immediately mat’s head perks up and he looks at you, but you pretend not to see him.

“okay thank you!” you say as you hang up the phone. you turn and look at mat, who has a shocked grin on his face, “husband?”

“what?” you play dumb.

“you said ‘for me and my husband’” his brows furrow.

“oh, i guess it’s just easier to say husband. sorry babe,” you shrug, biting back your laughter.

“no no no, don’t say sorry. i mean hey, i am your future husband anyways,” he winks as he makes his way closer to you on the couch. you let out a laugh, “so you have plans of proposing soon yeah?”

he lets out a little chuckle as he begins pressing little kisses all over your face and neck, “hmm, you never know,” he shrugs. his breath against your neck sends chills down your spine. he keeps peppering little kisses all over you, making you let out little laughs as he does so.

“future husband. i like that nickname,” mat whispers.

[midnightsnyx]

girl at home | mat barzal | part 3

pairing: mat barzal x fem!reader summary: you’re eighteen when you find yourself pregnant after Mat leaves for hockey. nearly eight years later, Mat finds out about your daughter and you have to deal with the consequences of not telling him about her.

warnings: not edited, mentions of pregnancy, alcohol, some cute fluff and as usual, as much angst as i can fit into a chapter <3 word count: 2.2k authors note: OK well not gonna lie, i cried writing the ending. i keep saying happy things are on the way and they are we're just slow getting there, ok? anyway i hope you all like this chapter & if you wanna, feed my writing soul and give me some feedback <3 i do have a tag list if you'd like to be tagged, there is a form below or you can leave a comment or dm me & i can tag you in the next part. thanks for all the love on this little story <3

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Co-parenting with Mat is interesting to say the least. Although, you’re not sure if you can even classify it as co-parenting because Nora still has no idea who Mat really is. She just knows that he now tags along with the two of you most places you go and she’s thrilled. Her questions for him are endless, asking about anything from hockey to what living in New York is like. She’s always been inquisitive, but this is a whole new level, even for her. 

You have mixed feelings about this because while you are happy that they’re getting along, you’re worried what will happen at the end of the summer when Mat has to return to New York. There’s no way you and Nora can follow him, and co-parenting between Vancouver and New York? Impossible. 

You’re sitting with Mat, both of you watching Nora play with some other kids on the playground. He’s been quiet but you can tell there’s something on his mind. Even though it’s been eight years, you still know Mat like the back of your hand and you know when he’s trying to decide whether or not to bring something up. You’re curious though, so you bump your knee against his and raise an eyebrow when he turns to you. 

“What’s on your mind?” you ask and he smiles sheepishly. 

“I was wondering if I could see some baby pictures,” he says quietly, and then adds, “of Nora,” as if he needs to specify. You were wondering when he was going to ask because his parents and Liana have already asked to see and asked for copies of all the pictures. Mat has been a little more reserved about most of it though, not asking questions about your pregnancy or for pictures of Nora as everyone else had.

“Yeah, of course,” you tell him, pulling your phone out and adding him to the shared album that his family is already in. 

A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth and you watch him swipe through pictures, pausing at certain ones although you can’t see which. You’re a little nervous because there are ultrasound photos and pictures of you throughout your pregnancy. You don’t know how he’ll react, because he still hasn’t really expanded on his feelings about you not telling him about her other than what he said at the coffee shop. He’s spoken to his parents, you know that much from Liana, but he hasn’t said anything more to you.

“She looks like you,” he eventually says, “got your nose.” 

“She has your eyes,” you counter and he smiles. 

“Yeah,” he whispers and before he can say anything else, Nora plops down on the bench next to him and peers at his phone.

“Hey! That’s me!” she exclaims, pointing to the picture of her from Halloween last year.

“Really?” you pretend to be surprised, smiling when she rolls her eyes dramatically. 

“Yes, mama. See? You said my eyes look like my dads.”

Mat tenses next to you. You’re sure he’s going to say something but instead he just smiles at Nora. 

“They’re pretty nice eyes,” he agrees, ruffling her hair before she ducks out of his reach with a giggle. 

“Mat, come push me on the swing!” she begs and he lets her pull him towards the swings without hesitation. You can’t help but grin at the pleased smile on Nora’s face and the way Mat does exactly what she wants without complaint. You know he would’ve definitely been the easygoing parent when Nora was younger and it makes you upset when you think too much about it because he should’ve been there for all her milestones and firsts. He should have been there when she crawled and then walked for the first time. He should have come with you when you dropped her off on her first day of Kindergarten and pretended he wasn't crying with you. 

There are so many firsts that he should have been next to you and it’s slowly eating away at you because you took that away from him.But it was the right thing to do. 

At least, that's what you tell yourself when you go to bed every night.

. . .

“So, how’s it going with Mat?” Jaxon asks, taking a sip of beer and giving you a knowing look. You regretted talking to Jax about your struggles the minute he started asking you the questions you didn’t want to hear. Your best friend is a little too observant sometimes and it always backfires. 

“Fine,” you say shortly, staring into your wine glass. Nora is staying at your moms tonight, so you decided to invite your friend over, hoping to get some advice that would help you feel better instead of feeling like you’re being interrogated. 

“Right,” he drawls, “that’s why you sent me a cryptic text and haven’t said anything else since “beer or wine?” right? I could be home with my boyfriend right now but you seemed like you were going to spiral and we all know exactly how that ends.” 

“Things are fine,” you grumble. “He’s been absolutely perfect with her.”

“Alright, then what’s bothering you?” 

“It’s just, I feel guilty, okay? Mat’s being better than I ever hoped to even think about and I feel like I shouldn’t have taken away his chance to be in her life before she was even born,” you say in one breath. “I keep thinking about the things he’s missed, and I feel like-”

Jax cuts you off before you can say anything else, holding up a hand. “Look, you did what you thought was best at the time. Was it necessarily fair? No. You can’t go back though, and you’re going to drive yourself insane if you keep thinking like this. You can’t change the past, but if he wants to be in her life now, and you’re okay with that, you need to make peace with your choices.”

Your shoulders deflate at his words, and you drink the remaining wine in your glass. He’s right about all of it and you hate that. You hate that he’s right and you hate that you can’t accept it.

“I need more wine,” you mumble, standing up and making your way to the kitchen. You don’t usually drink, definitely not since Nora, but you let yourself indulge every now and then. Besides, Jax has always been a bad influence. 

You’ve just finished pouring the glass when there’s a knock on your door. You look at the time on the microwave and frown, unsure who would be knocking at eleven o’clock on a Friday night. If anything was wrong, your mom would have called and you don’t have many friends that would make a late night visit. 

Abandoning your wine, you walk to the door and open it and come face to face with Mat who looks nervous and definitely like he would rather be anywhere but here. 

“Uh, hey?” you say but it sounds more like a question. He doesn't seem to be drunk and you don’t know what else would warrant a late night drop in. 

“Hey,” he says and just because you have the best luck, Jax decides that now is the right time to follow you to the door. 

“Your phone is ringing, and it’s your mom,” he says, freezing when he sees Mat standing there. He looks uncomfortable, and when you turn to Mat, all you see is fury. 

See, the problem is, despite nothing romantic going on between you and Jax, relationship talk wasn’t something that you and Mat had brought up. He didn’t bring up his girlfriend, and so far, nobody besides your mom has been around when Mat was with you and Nora. Also, throw in the fact that you’re sure Mat has no idea who Jax is, it’s easy to make assumptions. 

“Nevermind,” Mat says shortly, “I’ll leave you to your night.”

You grab his wrist before he can leave, wanting to clear all this up even though it shouldn’t really matter if you were dating someone. 

“Wait,” you say and he stops but keeps his back to you. 

“Nora woke up and wants to talk to you,” Jax says, breaking the silence and you hesitate, not wanting Mat to leave but knowing you need to talk to your daughter. He seems to sense your dilemma, because he hands you your phone, slips his shoes on and squeezes past you and Mat, calling out "I'll call an uber”, before walking down the hallway of your apartment building. 

You feel like an awful friend, and you’ll definitely be making it up to him but you pull Mat inside, shutting the door before holding the phone up to your ear. 

“Nora?”

“No,” your mom says softly, “I’ll put her on now.” 

You thank her quietly, waiting until you hear your daughter's voice. She’s sniffling, and tells you about the bad dream she had, asking if you can come pick her up. Your mom is trying to comfort her on the other line but it’s no use because she’s set on coming home.

You glance at your wine glass sitting on the counter and curse yourself because this is exactly why you try not to drink. 

Mat, as if he is reading your thoughts, says “I’ll go pick her up and bring her here.”

He still looks irritated but his expression softened since he heard Nora. You wouldn’t take him up on his offer but you know how much your mom hates driving in the dark so you just nod, watching him shake his hand out of yours and your face heats up when you realize you hadn’t let go. 

“Be back in twenty,” he says before leaving. 

“Mat’s on his way to get you, sweetie,” you tell Nora. “He’ll pick you up and bring you straight home, okay?”

She sniffles again and says a quiet, “okay,” before presumably handing the phone back to your mom who you tell that Mat is going to pick her up. She doesn't say anything, but you know she wants to. You realize she probably thinks that he was here with you and your instinct is to correct her but you don’t bother. You thank her and apologize, before bidding goodbye with a promise to let her know when Nora and Mat make it back home. 

You clean up while you’re waiting, dump your glass of wine down the sink and start making the couch up so Mat can just sleep here instead of going all the way back to his house after making the trip to pick Nora up. 

It’s not long before you hear the door open and close quietly and you look to see Mat carrying a sleeping Nora inside. 

“She fell asleep on the drive here,” he explains. “Didn’t want to wake her.”

You nod, pointing him in the direction of her room before sitting on the couch waiting until he comes back. You want to have whatever conversation the two of you need to have even though you know it won’t be a good one.

He’s quiet when he walks into the living room and hesitates before sitting on the couch next to you. You both sit in silence for a minute until you sigh, dropping your head into your hands. 

“Jax is a friend,” you mumble. “But even if he wasn’t, you have no place being mad about it.”

“I wasn’t mad,” he argues, “I was caught off guard. I didn’t know you were dating because you hadn’t brought it up.”

“I’m not dating,” you repeat and he sighs.

“I know.” 

Another minute of silence before you raise your head and look at him. 

“What about you? What happened to your girlfriend?” you ask, even though you know she left. 

He shrugs, “she left. Said she wanted no part in raising a child. Not that she would have had any place in Nora’s life if I had a say.”

“Of course you have a say,” you say. 

He looks at you with an unreadable expression on his face. You forget sometimes how good looking he is and it’s probably the alcohol that makes your brain fuzzy but all of a sudden, you just miss him. It’s not just physical attraction either, you can’t help but remember how considerate, loving and caring he was when you dated. You were both young, but it always felt like the two of you would be together forever even though you always knew in the back of your mind that he would have to leave one day and you wouldn’t be able to follow him. 

Despite doing your best to forget about him, to get over him the past eight years, the love you felt for him never went away. 

“Do you ever think about us? About what could’ve been?” you ask quietly.

“Always,” he says gently with a softness in his eyes that you’ve only seen directed towards Nora since he came back into your life.  

“Me too,” you whisper. 

He hesitates before lifting a hand and brushing a piece of loose hair that’s fallen in front of your face, tucking it behind your ear. His hand lingers for a moment, fingertips just barely brushing against your cheek. Your eyes close and you let yourself have this one moment, one minute where you can imagine that you’re seventeen again, laying on your bed with Mat’s arms holding you, whispering empty promises about forever to each other. Just kids in love, thinking forever was possible.

But you’ll never be those kids again.

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[stars1997]

Pls write for mat Barzal I love you work!!!

Dinner date

Paring(s): Mat Barzal x reader

Warnings: I didn't know if you wanted smut. i did write some but i added a warning so don't read past the warning if your not looking to read smut. smut, fingering, oral,

Summary: Mat and you go out on a date. you end up at a sports pub that has a pool table and Mat teaches you how to play pool.

“Honey! Are you almost ready?” Mat calls out to you. you warp the last uncurled strand of hair around the curling iron.

“I’m finishing up my hair. I’ll be right out, give me like five more minutes.” you remove the hair form the curling iron, spraying it with hair spray so hit holds it curl.

You adjust your dress and look in the mirror making sure that your makeup is exactly how you want it.

You walk out of the bathroom and make your way to the living room. You found Mat sitting on the couch. He looks up from his phone a smile spreads across his face when his eyes meet yours.

You give him a little spin, showing off your dress to him. he stands up taking your hands in his.

“You look beautiful. So, fucking beautiful.”  He pulls you into him. his hands move to your waist before reaching around to grab your butt making you giggle. “You should wear this dress more often.” He gives you butt a slap before kissing you on the lips.

“So, what is the plan for tonight?” he didn’t respond, he just grabbed your hand and pulled you out the door.

-

You and Mat have been out all day. He took you to all your favorite places to go shopping. You’re holding about six bags wail Mat is holding about six more. you and mat don’t do big dates like this often that’s why when you do get the chance, he loves to spoil you with whatever you want.

Normally date nights consist of staying at home and watching a movie, then falling asleep on the couch. you love those nights just as much as you love the more extravagant date nights.

-

Mat and you are now out at dinner. It was some cute little hole in the wall sports pub. The pub wasn’t that crowed yet. You ordered your food. You both got a burger.

You hand the waiter the menus giving him a small thank you before he walked off. You look back over at Mat his eyes already on you.

“I’m so glad you finally have a day off.” You reach your hands across the table to grab his. He rubs his thumbs across the back of your hands.

“I’m just glad I get to spend my day with you.” he lifts your hands giving them a kiss. You and Mat talked about everything from the game that he played yesterday to soothing that happed to you at work a few days ago. The time seem to go by fast.

The waiter dropped off your food. Mat was quick to start eating his burger. You reach over and take one of his onion rings before picking up your burger and taking a bite.

He gave you a small smile before pushing his plate a little closer to you knowing that that won’t be the last onion ring you will be taking from him.

You look around the restaurant, your eyes scanning over all the TVs and the sports art that’s hanging on the wall. You look at the people sitting at the tables enjoying their food before your eyes landed on a pool table in the back of the restaurant.

“Oh cool! They have a pool table.” You pointed it out to Mat.

“When were done eating we should play.” You nod your head yes as you take a sip of your lemonade.

-

The later it got the more packed the restaurant became. You and Mat finished eating a little bit ago. Now Mat has been trying to teach you how to play pool.

“I can’t believe that you don’t know how to play pool.” Mat lined up his pool que with the white ball. Mat needed to get the 8 ball in to win the game.

“Hey! don’t make fun of me. I was just never taught how to play.” Mat hits the white ball, the white ball then hitting the 8-ball making it roll right into the top left corner pocket.

“It’s no point. You just going to win every game.” You let out a huff. Mat set the balls back up before walking over to you.

“How about I teach you.” He put his pool cue back in its holder before he took your hand and pulled you in front of him. His chest now pressed into your back. He moves you so your now leaned over the table, helping you adjust the cue to line up with the white ball.

You push your hips back into him, trying to get more comfortable and he lets out a grunt. He pulls your arm back then pushes it forward hitting the white ball into the others, breaking the triangle.

“See it’s not that hard. You just need to aim and know how much force you should use to be able to make the balls move.” You turn around and throw your arms around his neck giving him a kiss on the lips.

-

Mat took some more time teaching you how to play. It took a few tries but now your able to play without his help.

“We should get one for the house.” You look at him with a huge smile on your face as the last of your balls just went into one of the pockets.

“Just a minute ago you were hating it. But yes, we should get one for the house.” He laughs moving back over to you leaning forward to whisper in your ear.

“If we get one for the house in going to bend you over it. You have been driving me crazy all night in this dress. Not to mention when you would grind your ass against me earlier. Fuck I need you so bad.” you plant a kiss on his cheek, leaving a lipstick mark. you take his pool cue and lay it down on the table before doing the same with yours.

“Well, I think we better get out of here. I’m starting to get bored, and I might have an idea on what we can do to fix that.” You wink at him before you grab his hand and pull him out of the restaurant.

-

(Smut below this line)

_______________________________

The drive home felt long. You played with Mats fingers the whole ride, picking at them, bringing his hand up to your lips to kiss them. You needed them in you.

You took his hand and placed it on your chest right above your boobs, your hand over his as you drag it down your chest to your stomach, right above your underwear. You look over at him in the driver’s seat. The knuckles on his other hand are white due to the grip he has on the steering wheel.

You use your other hand to bunch up your dress before slipping his hand into your panties. you run his fingers over your clit.

“Fuck Mat. Please I need you.” you slide his fingers lower and slide two of them into you. a moan slips past your lips.

“Yes, Mat. Oh fuck. Your fingers feel so good.” at this point your riding his fingers. You could feel yourself reaching your high quicker than you wanted to, but you just let it happen.

Mat moved his fingers away from you when he knew you have come down form your high. You breathe heavy for a second before getting on your knees in the passenger seat, facing Mat. You bring your hands down to unbutton his pants pulling his hard cock out of his pants.

You lean forward spiting on the tip of his cock before stoking him a few times. Your lips wrap around his tip sucking on him for a second before taking the rest of his cock in your mouth.

He brings down one of his hands to your head griping your hair. His hips lift off the seat for a second making the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat.

“Fuck, holy shit. I love your mouth so much.” you move your head faster on his cock, hollowing out your cheeks.

“Shit you just put your mouth on me and I’m already going to cum.” He lets out a grunt before releasing in your mouth.

“Oh, I am so buying a pool table when we get home.” You giggle in response kissing him on the cheek before sitting back down in your seat. You turn on the radio and sing along to the songs for the rest of the ride.

[chukys-mouthguard]

broken memories

sequel to kinda tempting

4.3k words

featuring: mat barzal x female reader x matt rempe

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

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

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

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

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

“Babe? I’m home!”

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

“There she is!”

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

“And how is baby girl doing?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re leaving?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Turns out you were wrong.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/n?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Not anymore.”

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

“Wait, what? You guys didn’t-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How is Matt handling the news?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can we talk?”

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

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

“Like what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To: Mat Barzal

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

[yelenasdog]

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

genre: filthy smut, fluff, angst with happy ending

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

words: 8.7k (WOAH)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She always was.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh yeah?” She asked. “I doubt that.”

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

But patience is a virtue, she supposed.

“Want me to prove it, pretty boy?”

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

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

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

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

Not that he’d care.

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

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

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

He stood up, and she led him to her room, though he knew the way well enough. Her hand in his felt nice, comforting, even, and he wasn’t going to complain. In the beginning of the arrangement the two of them had, touches like that had been normal. But as time went on, the barely there brushes and gentle caresses stopped all together.

He wanted to say something, wanted to ask her what was wrong, if it was something he did. But when he was off the ice, Mathew Barzal was not a man who liked to push his luck. So he didn’t. He let the touches slip away, and took what he could get from her.

Which right now, was toeing off his shoes, and crawling onto the plush comforter of her bed. It smelled like that sparkly ”fairy dust” shit from Lush he saw sitting on her bathroom counter once, cotton candy and bubblegum infiltrating his senses. That, and her favorite floral perfume he was all too familiar with on her pillow. A combination of scents he usually would find too much, sickly-sweet. But it was her, and that alone made it the most soothing aroma he’d ever known.

Initially when he’d gotten off the ice, the adrenaline had been pumping, and his anger had been rampant. All he’d wanted was to get home to her, have his way with her. To have an outcome he could control.

He’d kept himself relatively calm in the locker room, not having any outbursts towards Ilya, or anyone for that matter. If any of the guys had noticed he was uncharacteristically quiet, they didn’t say anything.

That is, until the bus ride to the airport.

He had been typing out his text to her, (Hatty, lost in OT, Toronto, you know the one), when he had felt a pair of peering eyes. Sitting in the back of the bus, he’d thought he’d done well to avoid such glances, but apparently not.

“Y’know, you shouldn’t be sulking so much.” A certain French-Canadian spoke, the brunette man’s tired eyes lingering over Mat’s hunched over form.

If there was one thing he didn’t need right now, it was more pep talks from Tito. He’d had more than his fill in the locker room. And though he loved the guy, he didn’t need to be told again how he “did everything right” and had a ”killer game”.

Because he knows, and that’s partly why he’s so mad.

Partly. As the other part is the fact that he wants more than anything to come back to NY to her arms. He was exhausted at this point, and rather than having his way with her, he now just wanted to be welcomed home into those ridiculously cozy sheets. He wanted her to light up all those overpriced candles she loved so much from Bath and Bodyworks, and for Warrior to snuggle up by him, stinky dog breath be damned. He wanted her to turn on ”Miracle” in the back as white noise, and laugh as she repeated all the lines from memory. (He may be Canadian, but he can appreciate a heart warming story told by Kurt Russell when he sees one.)

More than anything, though, he wanted her. And not just for an hour or two before he inevitably dragged himself out of those silky sheets that felt heavenly on his back, leaving her sleeping beside him. She looked peaceful in those moments, and he often wondered what she dreamt of. If she was dreaming of him as he did of her.

Bottom line was, Mathew was the victim of a series of unfortunate events. And the man to his left could recognize that it wasn’t just the hockey that was bothering him. (Though, that whole situation did suck pretty bad, he’d admit.)

So when Anthony told him he shouldn’t be sulking, he flashed him a tight lipped smile and a nod, before looking out the window at the Toronto sunset. The oranges and pinks were stunning, and more than anything their vibrancy reminded him of her. The smile she’d give him in her post-orgasm glow, or of the orange blossom on the bottle of perfume on her vanity. Beauvillier’s gaze never faltered, though, recognizing the deep train of thought his close friend was experiencing.

The screen of his phone had begun to darken, the draft of his message just barely visible. Tito’s eyes quickly shifted from the screen and back up to Barzy, opening his mouth and pausing momentarily.

“Who’re you texting?”

Mat quickly turned off the device, the “click” sounding out in the quiet bus cabin, most of the Islanders players catching some shut eye or watching that new Game of Thrones spin off.

Personally, Mat didn’t get the appeal.

“Nobody, just… a friend I’m visiting tonight when we get back.”

Anthony’s eyebrows went up, making a face of understanding as he slowly nodded three times.

“A friend, huh?”

Mathew nods, taking his bottom lip between his teeth and letting it go. “Yup.” He adds softly for good measure, popping the p.

“You visiting a friend after a game like that, this late, hm?” Another pause. ”Must be an important friend.”

“Yeah.” His voice is soft again, compassion coming across his features and he thinks of her again.

“Well“, Anthony starts, popping in his earbuds and opening his phone to his Music app. “I’d say whatever’s going on with this friend seems worth talking to her about.”

Mat‘s head snaps up, and he scoffs, shaking his head.

“I didn’t say that it was a she-“

“You didn’t have to, buddy.” Tito winks in the most annoyingly-Tito way, and chuckles to himself. He then lays his head back onto the navy material behind him. Mat “hmph”s to himself, doing the same. He turns his phone back on again, going to the chat between the two of them. The still blinking cursor seems like it’s mocking him as he runs a hand over his face, hitting send.

If there’s gonna be any deep, emotional shit, it can wait until he’s not 2500 miles away.

7 hours later when he finally crashes through her front door, he swears the relief he feels mixed with the sense of dread it all might be over in an hour, gives him whiplash. But nonetheless, she welcomes him in, and she feels like home.

Warrior watches from the couch, his tail lazily wagging as he observes his owner greeting the man who occasionally slips him bacon from his Starbucks sandwich. His old man (old dog?) body doesn’t find the arrival of the hockey player worthy of leaving his nest on the sofa, as to him that’s all Mathew Barzal is. The bringer of bacon.

To Warrior’s owner, though, he was so much more.

The trek to the bedroom felt like it took an eternity, and as he laid on her bed, he couldn’t help but wonder if it would be a bad idea to push his luck for once. Risk ending it all to gain everything.

She laid down next to him, and he shifted, going from laying with his arms crossed under his head, to one next to her head, the other keeping him stable from his position on top of her.

Her hand crept up to push an unruly lock out of his eyes, and she leaned forward, and he met her halfway. They paused briefly, taking each other in after so long, before finally closing to distance.

He tasted warm, like cinnamon and something she couldn’t place, and she wondered if at the airport he’d gotten one of those pretzels she knew he liked so much. To compliment his psychopath reminiscent black coffee, of course.

His hand went from where it had been cradling her face down to rest on her hip. The soft touch elicited a whimper, and at that he pulled away, resting his forehead against hers.

She recognized that something was off, swimming around in that pretty little head of his. A small frown etched its way onto her face, and she lifted his chin up so he had no choice but to look at her.

“What’s wrong, Mat?”

He took in a shaky breath, looking over to his left, where the TV was on some random wallpaper, a sunset, he realizes. He scoffs, looking back at her.

“Can you just- can we- can I- fuck.” He mutters, slowly falling down so his body weight is nearly on top of her.

“Can you just… hold me?”

She swears she’s never heard him sound so broken.

“Yeah, baby, ’course. C’mere.” She replies softly, allowing him to fully rest on her. It was a miracle that he didn’t fully break down right there, at the feeling of her fingertips dancing over his skin, under his pushed up shirt. His nose was cold against her neck as he dragged it up against her to come to her cheek, pressing a kiss there. His eyes never opened, afraid that if they did, it would all just be another elaborate fantasy he’d created to pass the time.

“Is this a good idea?” Came her voice, cutting through the silence.

He sniffles. “What do you mean?”

“This. Us.” She says, not able to meet his gaze where he’s lifted his head.

“We’re going to get hurt. More than we already have.”

Oh. Oh, fuck this was happening right now. Mat sat up, feeling like a scared teenage boy. Damn you and the way you read people, Beauvillier. Maybe this would’ve been easier from 2500 miles away.

“We don’t have to.”

“What other option do we have?” She said, sounding defeated, like she already knows her answer and she doesn’t like it. “I-I can’t keep doing this no strings attached shit. Not when you do this. Not when you come here all beat up like some sad puppy.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. And he was.

“Don’t be. I should’ve known this would happen.” Her voice was soft, her eyes distant.

“That what would happen?” He questioned. She looked at him like he had two heads.

“That you’d leave, Mat. That this whole pretending bullshit wouldn’t be enough for me.”

He leaned forward again, catching her off guard.

“I’m not leaving you. I’d never leave you.”

She looked away briefly, mentally cursing herself for being so emotional as tears began to well up in her eyes. He fell to her side, forcing her to meet his gaze.

“Do you really want this?” She asked, the tears rolling down her face illuminated a hue of pink from the salt lamp on the bedside table. Mathew reached out a hand, dragging his thumb over the droplet. He hated that she was crying, but fuck, she sure looked pretty while doing it.

His answer came without thought, he’d done enough of that on his way over.

“Yes. I want you in every way, if you’ll have me.”

A small smile came onto the corners of her face, and she nodded, shortly at first, but more exaggerated as they started laughing, a small “yeah?” escaping from Mathew. She responded with the same, and he took that as his sign to reach forward, closing the distance between them.

And like all the times before, they fell into their routine, her hands going down to his hips, lifting the gray material of his shirt over his head. He returned the favor, the two of them moving in sync as she lifted her hips and he gently slid off her shorts. He ran his palms along her bare thighs and she shivered at the feeling, a reaction that didn’t go unnoticed by Mathew.

“I missed you, y/n.” He admitted, running a hand through his, now, unruly hair.

Another vibrant smile came across her face, easing whatever nerves Mat had left over from his confession.

“I missed you more, Mathew.”

He shook his head, dipping down to leave sloppy kisses on her neck. Taken aback, she let a shaky breath escape. He pulled back, satisfied with the response he’d pulled from her.

“Not possible.”

In a moment of boldness (and a slight hope to allow a fantasy to come to life) she challenged him.

“Prove it, then.”

His eyes darkened, then, and he surged forward. Her remaining clothes, which was just his sweatshirt and a flimsy cami, were gone in an instant. She was left in just a pair of black undies, Mat nearly cumming on the spot at the sight, like he’s some horny teenager. His apparel soon joined the growing pile on the floor, as she made a remark about how it wasn’t fair he was still so covered.

She shamelessly raked over his naked form, save for the black boxers, with his firm muscles, sore from the roadie, prominent as ever. She might’ve been drooling, she wasn’t sure. He smirked, the effect he had on her not lost to him.

The two began to kiss again, and there was no other way to describe it other than that it just felt right.

Mathew wasted no time, allowing his hand to trail down and cup her clothed heat, his thumb passing over her clit and past her entrance with a feather light touch. She shivered, her hips lifting up to chase the brief sensation. He pulled her panties to the side, teasing her entrance with his middle finger.

It was immediately covered in her slick, as was the black fabric he’d moved aside. It made him groan just from the sensation alone, making her chuckle at his behavior. Her laugh soon was cut off as he sunk the finger in, giving her no time to adjust, not that she needed it with how ready she was for it, before adding another.

His palm just barely grazed her begging clit as he pumped in and out slowly. And as she continued to lift her hips trying to feel him deeper, push his hand closer to her clit, she fully expected him to push her down and put her in her place.

But this whole thing was about showing him how much he missed her, how much he appreciated her. To show her that he was staying. And him staying meant that he’d have plenty of chances in the future to be an insufferable tease, but right now wasn’t one of those times.

“Matty, please-“ it was more of a breathy whine, not intelligible to an untrained ear. But thankfully for her, that wasn’t Mat.

“You want more, baby?” He questioned, knowing the answer. She nodded, hair splayed around her like a halo on the pillow. She was still illuminated from the TV screen and the salt lamp, making her look like an angel of sorts, not of this world.

“Look at me then, sweetheart. Wanna see that I’m makin’ you feel good.”

Her eyes that met his were glazed over and doe like, and it melted Mat’s insides at just one look. He did his best to push down the mushy feeling that arose, before realizing he didn’t have to anymore. He could feel as sickeningly in love as he wanted, no consequences.

“You’re so beautiful, baby. So needy, fuckin’ perfect girl.” He remarked, adding in a third finger. She let out a borderline pornographic cry, and Mat picked up his pace. His gaze only faltered from her face, contorting in pleasure, back to where he was pumping in and out of her, unable to resist the urge to watch in amazement.

Though her legs were flailing, going from propped up to sliding down and spread, rustling the comforter, she somehow had enough mind to reach a hand down. She attempted to run tight circles around her clit, but not before her hand was pinned to her side by the center above her,

“No, baby. Lemme.”

His range of motion was wider and his thrusts harder as he curled his fingers to perfectly hit that spot inside her that made her see stars, fully trailing his hand over her sex. He repeated the action again, and again, and again- and fuck, she didn’t know how long she’d go on like this but she never wanted the feeling to stop.

He felt her tighten around him, and he picked up his pace, knowing she was almost there.

“Mat!” she managed to get out between strangled moans and panting breaths. He leaned down, kissing below her ear on the one spot he knew drives her crazy. She was halfway thinking, well, less than halfway with her state at the moment, that he would cruelly pull his hand away as she reached her peak. So she clamped her thighs together in an attempt to trap him, subconsciously more than not.

It didn’t stop him from grinding his palm against her like he had been, leaning down to capture her lips with his in a searing kiss.

Everything at once was just so much, the obscene sounds coming from both their mouths and her wet heat, the feeling of Mathew’s bare skin on top of her, the feeling of warmth radiating from his body, and oh my God, after so long it’s fucking finally happening-

He felt as her chest seized and she pulled away from the kiss, her head slamming back before falling to the side. She cried out, her orgasm hitting her like nothing had before.

He found her lips in the chaos beneath him, his hand parting her thighs as she went lax, lazily pumping in and out as she rode out her high. Her slick coated the inside of her thighs, and Mat pulled away momentarily and she whined, like the little brat she was allowing herself to be.

He only smirked, leaning down to kiss on her collarbone, letting his tongue sweep over the seemingly shimmering expanse of skin before him. He moved further down, savoring the taste of her, how it felt to be so close to her. No guards up, no shields, no screening involved.

She moved her ring clad hands to run fingers through his locks, that fucking smile coming across her face. He looked up from where his hands were holding either side of her waist, his fingers digging into the soft flesh just enough to not make it hurt, but to say “I’m here. I’m not leaving.” His chin rested above her bellybutton, and he felt suddenly seen, bashful almost. He continued his trail down in a half assed attempt to hide his face, her breath hitching when he made it to her mound.

Her breath barely returned to her as he skipped over where she thought he was headed, instead opting to take her right leg over his shoulder, moving down the expanse of it to her ankle. He brought his eyes to meet hers, and a tender hand ran up and down the distance of it. He kissed the inside of her ankle, making his way up to the skin where her thigh met her already aching sex.

He lightly nudged his nose against the area, before attaching his lips. He started sucking on the skin there, licking her clean. Satisfied, he moved to the other side, beginning his good work.

“Mat,” she broke her silence, her voice splintered and low, “don’t tease. Please.”

He raised his eyebrows, seemingly in jest.

“I think we’re a little far gone from teasing, eh?” He asked, and truthfully, one mind blowing orgasm later, they were.

She chuckled, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever hotshot.”

“New nickname?” He questioned. “I like it.” He huffed, returning to his place between her legs. “But I fucking love this pussy, baby.”

And with that, he dove in. He immediately groaned at what he had found. (Which, obviously, caused her to tug at that perfect head of hair, eliciting another groan.)

If possible, she had become even wetter with the mix of his spit and her nectarine juices. It dripped down his chin, and he wanted to stay there forever. He’d found solace there, he thought. No Maple Leafs, no Tito, no hatty that meant jackshit in the end.

Just her and her consummate being. Vibrant, saccharine. His.

He wasn’t sure how long he spent drawing her closer and closer to the edge, but somewhere between repeated chants of praises and whatnot, he’d slipped.

“Fucking love this cunt, fucking love you-“

He hadn’t realized what he said, and if he had, he didn’t seem to care. But his words alone were enough to rip an unassuming orgasm from her. She didn’t allow herself long enough to think about if he meant to say it or not, or even to ride out the aftershocks rolling through her nerves. She grabbed him by the shoulders, forcing him away from her glistening cunt and up to where she connected their lips.

A small sound of surprise, not reluctance, escaped from where they were joined. Her hands came to cradle either side of his face, and Mat thinks that he might’ve cried from the tender action. He wasn’t sure, but he wasn’t going to ask. Hey, it’d been a long day.

“You mean it?”

He realized what he had said, then, eyes wide and somehow his face even more flushed than before. He considered lying, like when Tito had asked who he was texting and he’d said a friend.

But where would that leave him, he wondered?

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, I did.” He added after a beat of silence.

And in those few moments nothing had seemed scarier.

Not when he was 18, getting skipped over by teams in the draft, and that voice in the back of his head had told him that, somehow, everyone had collectively decided to skip Mathew Barzal. Not when he was 19 playing in his first game for the Isles, having to follow up Auston Matthews first NHL game where he had four goals. Four. Fuck.

No, all that was topped by this. By the same fear he’d had earlier when he’d been on the bus, or when he’d arrived at her apartment.

But all of that fear was dissolved in a second after her laugh sounded out in the small bedroom, her eyes crinkling at the edges. She pulled him down towards her, and the sound of her laughter pulled a radiant smile from the hockey player that he felt like hadn’t seen the light of day in a long time.

She rolled over on top of his chest, leaning forward and throwing her arms around his neck. His chain was glinting, now, in the light she had previously been bathed in, and it caught her eye as it rested against his milky complexion.

“You looooove me.” She regarded in a sing-song voice, and Mat rolled his eyes despite the smile growing on his face. She leaned down, and Mathew’s grip on her bare hips tightened, all too aware of the wet spot left on his stomach from her leaking sex.

She mirrored his previous movements down his chiseled body, a regular Adonis in his own right. She left open mouthed kisses, the wet patches from them adding to the thin sheen that covered his body. She made her way down to his boxers, the obvious tent making her stifle a laugh. He caught it though, of course, and rolled his eyes for what seemed like the millionth time.

“Laugh it up, babe. Laugh at my misery.” He commented, to which she only shook her head.

“Patience is a virtue, Mathew.”

“You’re one to talk.”

Well, he had a point there.

So rather than talk, she decided she’d put her mouth to good use. She pulled down his boxers at a painstakingly slow rate, watching as his cock slapped up against his stomach. Her mouth watered at the sight, the tip red and weeping, begging to be attended to. He kicked off the boxers, paying no mind to how they slipped onto the floor, forgotten. She didn’t either, as she was sure he had to have some extra in one of his gazillion bags sitting in her entry way.

Her nails scratched down his stomach, angry red lines puffing up and decorating around the expanse of his skin. They were accompanied by freckles and marks and scars that she could have mapped together with her eyes closed. She knew Mathew like the back of her hand. And with that, came knowing how to make him come undone in her hands.

She started leaving small kisses at the base of his shaft, before swiping the bead of precum from his head down to the rest of him. She pumped her hand a few times, and Mathew let out a strangled moan. She thought he couldn’t get any louder, feeling bad for her neighbors at whatever hour in the night it was, but she was quickly proven wrong.

She licked a long stripe from the bottom to his tip, before taking as much of him into her mouth as she could. She bobbed her head a few times, jacking off whatever she couldn’t fit with her hands. She hollowed her cheeks, and the rise and fall of Mathew’s chest quickened. The sound he let out was animalistic, and it sent another wave of arousal through her body. She moaned involuntarily, and the feeling caused Mathew to buck his hips.

“You’re doing so good, baby. ‘M not gonna last with you going at me- shit- like that.”

He brought a large hand down to the side of her face, lightly stroking her cheek. It was a moment of wholesomeness that reminded them what they were now, what he had said.

Mat could tell she was tired, her pace decreasing. The look in her eyes never changed, though. And as he went to speak to tell her it was okay, and she didn’t have to (and because since it had been so long, he was scared he’d bust his load if she wasn’t careful), she pulled off.

A string of saliva followed, and the sight looked like a thumbnail of a shitty porno. Her eyes were droopy and glazed over, and Mat’s hypothesis was proven correct.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You don’t have to finish. Let me take care of you.” He repeated his sentiment from earlier. She only shook her head, continuing to jack him off with her hand. Oh. He thought. That’s not what I was expecting.

“S’okay, Matty. Wanna make you feel good.”

She ran her thumb over his tip again, her glassy and swollen bottom lip hanging ajar as she concentrated. The moans he was letting slip free could only be described as pathetic, the 190 pound hockey player putty in her hands.

“I’m gonna cum if you don’t, God, baby, shit! I-If you don’t stop.”

And then she pulled her hand off, and he let out a quick breath at the momentary relief, if that was even the right word. But it was short lived, and she managed to hoist herself up, dragging her folds along his cock, before stabilizing herself with hands on his chest. He slid inside of her, and the sounds they both let out echoed off her walls.

She started moving, and then it was “You’re fuckin’ amazing, you know that? So fuckin’ amazing. My girl, my perfect girl.” He rambled, the events of just that day alone scrambling his mind trying to keep up. Similarly to how she felt earlier, everything was just too much for the poor man. She felt like Heaven around him, and he watched in awe from below her as she moved, enamored by the woman he loves.

As she became more and more tired, her movement slowed, reduced to her grinding herself down on his cock. Mat was barely hanging on, trying to make it last as long as possible. He could tell she was close too, as she squeezed him like a vice, and put her energy into picking up her pace.

“Fuck, Matty. Feels s’good. Love you- shit! I love you so much, baby.” She told him, her eyes closed and her face screwed up as she chased her high. But something snapped in Mathew at her confession, and with a quick “fuck” under his breath, he flipped the two of them without ever leaving her.

He was relentless.

He slammed in and out, and at the sudden change in position and pace, she was blindsided. She thrashed around him, her hands everywhere at once. Her hair, his hair, grasping at his shoulders, scratching down his back. She settled for his biceps, as his hands were planted. One on the right side of her head, the other gripping her hip bone so hard, she was sure it’d bruise.

“It’s only ever been you, baby. I promise you.”

“Shit, Mat!” She cried, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. She loosely draped her legs around his middle, allowing him to reach new depths within her. He was fucking her senseless, and they fucking loved it.

“It’ll only ever be you. I love you. Fuck, I love you so much, Y/n.” His hair hung in his eyes as he fought to keep them open. He shook it out of his eyes, wanting to see her as she came in all her glory.

“Love you, Mat. So much, baby. You have no idea.”

His pelvis snapped harder against her, just barely reaching up and grazing her clit in the most exquisite way. The rope in her stomach began to tighten for the third time that night, so close to breaking she could almost taste it.

Actually, she could taste it, she realized. She had been biting down so hard on her bottom lip she could taste the metallic tang on her tongue, and fuck, it was all the more delectable.

“Mat!” It was another exclamation, followed by more babbles. “‘S too much, Matty, can’t do it.” Her voice was small, and despite the nature of the statement, Mat felt his heart flutter.

He shook his head. “Yes, you can, baby. I know you’re tired, but you can do it, Y/n. You’ve got another one in you sweetheart, pull through for me. I’ve got you.”

And never one to disappoint, especially not her Mathew, she did.

She came, and she came hard. But it wasn’t dramatic the way you’d think it’d be, at least not outwardly. Her breathing stopped, her toes curled, and her nails dug into the skin on Barzy’s arms. It wasn’t accompanied by a loud scream, or a drawn out, high pitched moan. It was a breath of relief that left her when she came, her head falling to the side and her eyes closing. A quiet moan of Mat’s name, and she was clamping down on him.

The sweet way his name fell off her tongue, mixed with how she was so damn tight around him as she came, and he was done for. It triggered his own orgasm, and he felt the same feeling of peace wash over him that she had as he spilled into her. He fucked her through it, soft thrusts calming whatever aftershocks they both were experiencing. She had gone limp under him, her eyes opening as she gave him the sweetest smile he’d ever seen.

He stayed in her, lowering himself onto his side, then maneuvering them so she was laying on him. They were a cliché and they knew it, but they couldn’t seem to care. A few moments passed in comfortable silence, before it was broken by Mathew’s scratchy post-sex voice. Swoon.

“So,” he started. She raised a brow, wondering where he was going with this.

“You looooove me, too, then?” He mimicked her tone from earlier, and they broke out in a fit of laughter as she slapped his arm and rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. I guess you’re alright.” She feigned annoyance, propping herself up on her right arm as she faced the man she loved. Mat scoffed, blowing a strand of hair from his forehead. “Just alright? You’re crazy, lady.”

“But you love me.”

Not a beat passed before “I do.”

She smiled softly, lifting up a hand to run a finger along his jaw. He caught it with his own, never breaking eye contact as he kissed her palm. Again, swoon.

“I know.” She responded, wanting to stay in that moment forever. But, she knew that if she stayed where she was too long, she’d more than likely fall asleep in record time. So, she pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth, which he turned to catch before she could go, pulling her back for a “real” kiss at his protest.

A petulant child, that’s what he is.

She pressed one more to his lips for good measure, before pulling himself off of him. They both let out disgruntled sounds at the sudden losses, and it took all her energy to sit up on the edge of her bed. She felt a strong jaw on her shoulder, and she leaned into it.

“Where you goin’? Leaving me all alone isn’t very nice.” She could hear the frown in his voice, and even though she knew he was joking, it tugged on her heartstrings that little bit.

“Gotta pee.” She said, standing up and walking towards the connecting bathroom. “Sorry baby, no UTIs for me.”

The frown stayed cemented on his face.

“You should be grateful,” she threw over her shoulder, shutting the door. “No UTIs, more fucking, yeah?”

He chuckled at her bluntness, deciding to go and get her some water and maybe a snack. Shit, he didn’t know. What was he supposed to do? Usually when they fucked before, her or Mat would be out the door as soon as possible, still trying to ward off those pesky feelings. But now, he was allowed to feel said pesky feelings, and he’d be damned if he fucked it up.

So, snack. And water? Yeah, water, for sure. He was hungry and thirsty, why wouldn’t she be. He had no idea the way around her kitchen, nor how to, er, actually make anything, so this would be rough. But, first, a pit stop.

He would have walked butt-ass naked into her kitchen, really, but then he remembered Warrior was out there and he didn’t have a need to traumatize that dog any further than he already was.

(It was one time, okay? He didn’t know she had a dog, he’d been asleep on his bed by the TV when they’d gotten to her place. And at the time, Mat was too preoccupied to notice.)

He looked around on the floor for the offending clothing item, slightly grossed out when he did finally find them. It was only for a minute, tops, is what he told himself, as he pulled on the boxers from earlier in the night.

He tiptoed, for literally no apparent reason, through the dark apartment until he found the bag he was looking for. He grabbed what he needed from it, struggling with the zipper while trying to close it, before giving up. On his way back to her room, he gave Warrior a nod and smile, and he swore the mutt gave one back. Okay, actually, on second thought, he remembered the clock on her microwave saying it was 3:18 AM, so, maybe he didn’t.

It was late and he just had the best sex of his life with the woman he loves. Give him a break. So what if he’s delusional and thinks he can communicate with dogs? At least he’s pretty.

When he gets to her room, he pulls on the newer, clean, pair of boxers, setting the other pair he grabbed from his bag on the bed for her when she got out of the bathroom, along with an Islanders shirt that he’d secretly always wanted to see her in. Too soon? Maybe. But after so long yearning for everything domestic and wholesome and good that he was convinced he didn’t deserve with her, he was indulging a little bit. So sue him.

His next stop, snacks. And water, can’t forget the water.

The water was easy enough, he got lucky. He grabbed her “emotional support cup” as she’d called it before when she thought he wasn’t listening, and went over to the fridge. He got a few ice cubes and put them in, and then went over to her Brita. He stood there, pressing down on the little lever, watching the steady stream of water into the cup. It was almost laughable, how he stood there in the dead silence, concentrating so hard. He was determined not to somehow do something wrong, even though it was just pouring a cup of water. Cute.

He checked the pantry once the cup was full, with the lid safely screwed on top. The rustling about caught the attention of Warrior, who hopped down from where he’d been on the couch, moseying on over.

Mat, who still was slightly wary of Warrior, despite the fact the dog would cause him no harm, shook his head at the mutt.

“Sorry, buddy. I don’t have anything for you.”

He turned his head and gave him puppy dog eyes, pulling out all the stops. Mat sighed, looking back to the pantry. He saw a box of Milkbones, and looked back to Warrior, who was egging him on. (They’re telepathically connected, remember?)

He reached in the box, pulling one out, and tossing it down. Warrior gratefully accepted, taking his treat and waltzing off to his bed to chow down. Mat looked in the pantry, going to close the box, when he sees it, his saving grace.

White bread, hallelujah.

He can do toast. Mathew Barzal is a totally capable 25 year old man who can make toast. So, he takes the bag, going over to the toaster. And-

One look at all those fancy buttons, and he’s tapped out.

Okay, it’s okay, he can remember seeing a vending machine on his way into her apartment. Yeah, he remembers her telling him about having to sign off on some HOA form for it, even though she was just renting. Apparently, her landlord hadn’t signed, which made it her job. Whatever, that’s irrelevant.

He figured that there wouldn’t be anybody out in her hallway at 3:23 AM, so he grabbed his coat with his wallet, shrugging it on over his bare back. His slides were somewhere in his hockey bag and the last thing he wanted to do was stink up her whole place by opening that Pandora’s box. So, barefoot it is.

He does his best to sneak out the apartment, leaving the door ajar as he makes the short walk to the vending machine, grateful his search was over. He let out a long sigh as he stood, wondering what to get her.

For himself he decided on a bag of cool ranch Doritos, and a bag of those tiny cookies. For her, he racked every corner of his brain for potential options, before realizing how long he’s taking, and how long he’d been gone. So, not wanting to waste any more time, he elected for one of everything.

He punched in the numbers and paid, attempting to grab them from the machine. Trying to pick up the few that had fallen, he leaned down. His attention was called elsewhere by the ”click!” of a door a few units down. His head snapped to the source of the sound.

“You’ve got to be shitting me.” He muttered under his breath upon what he saw.

A man probably not much older than himself, suitcase and backpack in tow, donned in, you guessed it, a New York Islanders hoodie a lá number 13.

The man had yet to notice the star player down the hall from him, and Mat was considering just making a run for Y/n’s place. But either way, he would have to go past the man, or the man would have to go past Mat to get to the elevator. Maybe he’d take the stairs? He hoped. Shit, who was he kidding, he’s not taking the stairs.

Starting his walk over, the unnamed Islanders fan lifted his head, stopping in his tracks. His jaw dropped, and if it wasn’t purely because of being in the presence of Mat Barzal, he had a hunch what it was.

Said hunch, was that it was due to the fact Mat Barzal was standing in front of him, in an apartment complex definitely not boujee enough for him to be living in, at 3:25 in the morning, naked, except for boxers and some fancy trench coat, holding several bags of snacks.

Mat would’ve laughed at the guys face, but he thought he wasn’t quite in the position to do so.

“Hey, man. How’s it going?” And a stupid bro nod, was all Mathew could manage.

-

While he was facing that debacle, Y/n was having one of her own.

After she’d gone to the bathroom, she decided to try to do her nighttime routine, too. She put on her robe from where it had been hanging in her bathroom, beginning her little routine.

When she emerged 10 minutes later, Mat was nowhere to be seen.

His bags were still by the door, albeit one of them hastily thrown open. Was he leaving and had gotten some clothes and an Uber? Did he have last minute regrets? The door to her place was left open, and an overwhelming sadness began to take over her system. As the tears began to well up, she looked over to Warrior, only to notice him chewing on… a milkbone? How the hell did he get a milkbone?

She sniffled, wiping her sleeve under her nose. She sat down on her couch, looking at where her iced coffee from earlier was still sitting, ¾ of the way empty. The tears started to flow freely again after that, and she stood up, deciding that she should at least shut the door. She didn’t need to deal with a robbery, too.

As she stood and turned, she was met with a very discombobulated and very underdressed Mat trying to shove his way through the door.

“Have a good flight, man. Enjoy Miami!” Mat called over his shoulder to what sounded like her neighbor Gian, based off of the “Thanks bro, good luck this season!” she heard back.

She slapped a hand over her mouth, trying to not bust out laughing at the sight in front of her. Hearing her snickering, he looked up gesturing to the bags in his arms.

“Hungry?” He asked, the smile on his face falling when he saw the red around her eyes. He dropped all the snacks on the couch to his right, making his way over to where she stood.

“Hey, hey, why’re you crying? What’s wrong sweetheart?” He questioned, and his sincerity made her smile widely.

“Nah, I’m all good, don’t worry about it. Just thought you’d left, that’s all…” A pause. “But I see now that you just had a case of munchies, apparently.”

He wrapped his arms around her shoulders pulling her towards his chest. His chin rested on her head, and she closed her eyes, inhaling his scent.

“No, baby. God, no, I’m not leaving. I just wanted to do this whole thing right, and I thought you might be hungry, and I tried to make toast- your toaster is really complex by the way,”

She pulled away from him as he rambled, her smile reaching her eyes.

“And I filled your water and set out clothes for you and I really did try, baby. I didn’t mean to fuck anything up, really.”

She giggled again, taking hold of the shoulders of his jacket, shrugging it off. She folded it over the back of a barstool, then turned back towards Mat.

“And Gian?”

“Oh yeah, he’s cool. Ran into him in the hallway and introduced myself. Going to visit some family in Miami.”

She raised an eyebrow, nodding her head in understanding. She stepped closer, wrapping her arms around his middle.

“So, am I gonna have to compete with him for your attention now whenever you come over?”

He reciprocated the action, one hand coming up to rest on her chin.

“I mean, he’s gonna be gone for two weeks, but after that…” he shrugged, trailing off. She hummed, and he smiled at her, leaning forward. He searched her eyes for any remaining upset, unable to find any, before he pressed his lips to hers. It was sweet and gentle, with not a hint of rush or fervor.

When they pulled apart, she was smiling again. Her hands found their way back to his neck.

“And baby, you’re amazing. You didn’t fuck up anything at all, I promise.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” She whispered, leaning in again to connect their lips. She let her tongue sweep over his bottom lip, biting down just barely before pulling away. She pushed down the sleeves of her robe just a bit, exposing her shoulders. Y/n took his hand, and started walking backwards, letting it slowly slip out of hers as she did.

“Come on, hotshot. Come to bed. Snacks will still be there in the morning.”

She smiled again briefly, before walking towards her room, the robe slipping down as she went. Mat stood watching her in total awe, glued in place, until he was knocked out of his trance.

“Hurry up! And lock the door, too, please!”

He had never obliged to anything quicker in his life.

(And as for the snacks, they were not still there in the morning, thanks to a certain mutt who managed to rip open all the packets on the couch. The next morning was spent at the vet, who had told them Warrior would be fine, just fat. The vet had only said this, though, after Mat had consoled a crying Y/n, who was under the impression he was going to be poisoned.

The rest of the day after that? Making up for lost time.)

FIN.

YO idk if that was good or not i kind of feel like i imagined writing the entire thing and it was a fever dream. but. anyway! if you liked it, be sure to reblog <3 thank u i love u! go eat some protein and drink some water. 

xx, hj

[senditcolton]

I've Got the Good Side of Things

Recording their favorite show on the DVR because you know they’ll be in a little late tonight and miss it. And them being somewhat surprised that you didn’t watch it without them.

part of my Valentine's Day prompts requested by anon | word count: 0.8k | warnings: none!

The group chat you had with your friends was muted on Monday at 8pm sharp. A quick text, a small explanation, and then your phone was set to do not disturb.

Normally, you would be right there in that text thread, shooting off multiple messages, probably using too many capital letters, exclamation points, and rose emojis. That was the norm when you watched The Bachelor and when it came to the “Women Tell All” … the drama was increased by a thousand and so were the reactions they brought.

However, Mat was away on a long road trip and wouldn’t be able to watch it with you.

He told you before he left that he didn’t mind if you watched it without him – after all, you’ve watched previous episodes alone because consistent Monday nights off weren’t in the cards when Mat had to report to UBS Arena or hop on a plane more often than not.

But you knew that his favorite thing to do was sit on the couch next to you and watch the drama that came when a group of thirty-two women competed for the attention of one man. Which is why, in your mind, you absolutely could not watch the Women Tell All without him.

So, the group chat was muted and instead of Joey attempting to find love on your screen, the New York Islanders were attempting to get pucks into the Dallas Stars net. The small red light on your DVR indicated that The Bachelor was being recorded, ready to be watched when Mat came back home.

The game ends with an Islanders victory but you wait until that red light disappears before texting Mat.

‘Great game!’ you message him, adding blue and orange heart emojis at the end for good measure. It isn’t long until Mat replies.

‘Thanks babe. How was The Bachelor?’

‘Pretty entertaining,’ you type. Your response was a slight lie. You were sure that it was entertaining as hell but you didn’t have any proof to back up your statements. Thankfully, Mat didn’t ask for proof.

‘Can’t wait to watch it when I get back.’

You smile to yourself, looking around the apartment as you think forward four days. The image of you curled up into Mat’s side, a hefty glass of wine each appears easily in your mind but it is shortly followed by a different image. You look around, planning out the idea that had filled your mind.  

Why not make a night it?

~ four days later ~

It took time and effort but you were ready. Plates were filled with Mat’s favorite home-cooked meal and glasses were filled with red wine, waiting on the coffee table to be consumed. The Bachelor on the television, paused on the title card, and a frankly ridiculous number of roses were scattered around your apartment.

It is silly how giddy you are, standing near your front door and bouncing on the balls of your feet as you wait for Mat to arrive. He texted you, asking if it was still alright if he came over that evening and you couldn’t say yes fast enough. You couldn’t wait to see his face – both in general and to see his reaction to your crazy plan.

A knock echoes around the room and the sound hadn’t even dissipated before you’re swinging the door open, coming face to face with Mat. You watch as his crooked smile appears and he wastes no time sweeping you into a hug.

“I missed you,” he mumbles against your shoulder.

“I missed you too.” You pull away from him and hold your arms out. “Welcome back!” you say, watching as Mat gazes around the space, taking in the state of your studio apartment.

“What’s all this?” he asks, bewildered, his eyes returning to yours.

“I lied to you. I didn’t watch The Bachelor on Monday because I wanted to watch it with you,” you explain.

“You didn’t watch it?”

Your reply is a small nod of your head.

“You made my favorite meal and decorated the apartment just so we could watch it together?”

Another nod.

“And you blew off your friends group chat? Even when I told you it was okay to watch it without me?”

You nod again, although the action this time is a little timid, a sliver of doubt blooming in your chest at his cascade of questions. Was it too much? Was it too weird? The nerves remain until that stupidly infectious smile spreads across his face.

“You’re amazing, you know that?”

“Jesus, don’t scare me like that, Mat!” you exclaim, swatting his chest, a laugh falling from both of you.

“I figured I’d get us in the mood. Create some drama, y’know?” he explains, grabbing your hand as he makes his way to couch with you in tow. You settle down next to him, picking up your wine and the remote before curling into his side.

“I think that this episode will have enough drama without your help,” you chirp, pressing play and hearing applause from the studio audience resonate from the speakers. Mat’s arm comes around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him in order to press a small kiss into your hair.

[islesnucks]

Voicemail - Mathew Barzal x Reader - TEASER

Hey! This is so random after like a year of not posting any fics but here's a small preview of one of the Barzy fics I've been working on. I'll probably post it next week.

Summary: what started as an accidentall voicemial to your ex boyfriend ended up becoming routine and maybe even more

Add yoruself to the taglist if you wanna be notified when i post the fic! PS: ill also use my old taglist so if you were in it but changed your url and wanna be notified please add yourself again and also let me know which is your old url so i can delete it, thanks!

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

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

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

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

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

"Mat." you picked up.

"Hey. You called me?"

-

POSTED HERE!!

[thatsdemko]

neighbor - m.barzal

masterlist

requested: n

pairings: mat barzal x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of alcohol + mentions of first round 2023 playoffs

a/n: feedback is always appreciated xx

he’s your neighbor for Christs sake, but you can’t help but stare. ever since the very attractive brunette across the way started opening his blinds more, you couldn’t help but feel your eyes gravitate more towards that window.

and how could you not? half the time he’s in an unbuttoned linen shirt and sweatpants walking around his apartment, while the other half he’s dressed to the nines in a suit and tie. needless to say, he’s quite nice to stare at.

he hasn’t caught on, but every so often he pretends to stretch a couple feet away in front of the window to stare at you. he pretty much knows your morning routine, how you get up in nothing but a sports bra and sweatpants, you start your coffee pot first thing, and usually play with your cat for the next thirty minutes before you disappear to work.

he’s seen you in your outfits for the bars to your next morning hungover pajamas, and he’s even seen you when you think nobody else can. it’s okay, he won’t say a thing but he does enjoy the show every so often.

it’s two in the morning when he’s awake, playoffs just about to start his mind can’t help to wander. it’s prompted him to slip outside, enjoy the fresh air to clear his thoughts.

“you look cold.” you say watching his head snap in your direction, you’re met with none other than his eyes. the ones you made bets about how pretty they would be in person, and you were right, they were gorgeous.

“oh,” he says looking down at himself, he’s in nothing but sweatpants and a pair of slides. it didn’t take him until you said something to realize the weather outside his apartment is actually unpleasant, and rather chilly for a man who’s not wearing a shirt.

“I’m y/n, I think my window looks at yours.”

he nods moving over on the bench allowing you to sit, “I’m mat, it’s nice to finally put a name to your face.” he watches you take a seat all the way at the edge, a nervous smile placing your face as you two listen to the sirens and faint voices of the city.

“so why are you awake?” he bites first, pulling his arms across his chest to try and stay warm. it’s too early to invite you back to his place, sit inside his heated space, he’ll just have to make due to keep warm until it’s the right time.

you shrug, “lots to think about, you?” you turn to him and he nods, you watch him run his fingers through his short brown hair. you remember the day he came home with a buzz cut, your friends practically mourned the loss.

“yeah works getting a little competitive I’d say.” he sighs, eyes looking upward at the stars, only a few shine bright in the cities skies. it makes him miss home, the amount of stars he’d see in the sky are much brighter and clearer than the clouded ones of New York.

“is that why you dress up sometimes? sorry, I don’t mean to sound weird I just see you—“

his laugh cuts you off, of all those times you’ve seen him laugh you never expected it to sound like it does against your ears. it brings a smile to your face. “kind of, although I’m supposed to dress clean for work, bosses demand.”

“so that’s why you got a buzz cut?” you ask moving a little closer to him, you can see the goosebumps that decorate his arms.

“that was my own doing.”

“a poor decision if I must say so.” you snap back, watching him roll his eyes in response. he mutters a couple words you can’t hear but you don’t press to figure them out.

“I must say, you’re judging me a lot for someone who wears the same clothes three days in a row.” he sends you a playful wink and you’re thankful for the night lights that don’t cast over your red cheeks of embarrassment.

“I think I’m going to start closing my blinds from you.”

—

he moves in front of his window, suit jack and button up shirt holding two different ties in each hand. holding them up, you move to the window from the kitchen to point at the one you like the most. you’re liking this new found friendship, ever since that late night on the bench, things have been awfully fun and exciting.

you’d go to your window, hold up whatever decision you had and he’d answer with his opinion. you’d see each other on the streets more often than you expected, and sometimes he’d even walk you to your office for work. he was becoming a friend rather than just some neighbor.

“then my friends and I were thinking of going to the bars, you’re more than welcome to come! I’m sure they’d love to meet you.” you nudge his shoulder with your elbow listening to him hiss at the burnt coffee that split over his hand.

“I’d love to but I actually have a date tonight.” he proudly smiles, it’s the first you’d talk about relationships. you always assumed he was single. having not seen a single woman over in his place, unless it was his mother, so it makes since the bachelor was getting lonely in his nice pad.

you’re just not sure why you feel your throat closeup and the saliva in your mouth make it impossible for you to start a sentence.

“but if I change my mind you’ll text me the address?” he stops in front of your office, and all you can do is nod before bidding him a quiet goodbye before rushing up the stairs to the big doors of your building.

when you finally get up there, you heave out a long breath finally feeling your throat clear and salvia dry your mouth. boy, did you have a story to tell your girlfriends tonight.

they were rooting for you two, saying it’s a perfect trope of boy meets girl and boy next door. and yeah maybe you were also rooting for it happen too, because as time went on you developed feelings for him that were more than just a crush. you began to enjoy his company more and more, you just wish maybe he enjoyed it the same amount.

—

when he enters the bar of the location you’ve sent him, it’s not hard to find you. your smile brightens up any room, and can easily be spotted a mile away. after a shitty date, seeing you was all he wanted.

he moves throughout the sweaty bodies, couple of them offer pats to his shoulders congratulating him on the playoffs achievements, but none of those matter. he’s more focused on getting closer to you, and when he does a man that had been blocked by other bodies comes into focus.

he’s got his hand on your hip, as he yells into your ear, whatever it was made you laugh, but nothing like how mat made you laugh. he had the ability to get your full unhinged reaction, your body leaning forward and a snort or two. he thinks it’s cute.

your attention shifts when you recognize that familiar body that’s standing a couple feet away, “mat, you came!” you exclaim, motioning for him to come closer and he does.

“no way you know mat barzal.” the guy you’re talking to is stunned as he extends a hand, mat gladly takes it assuming he’s fan, “I fucking hope the canes destroy you guys.”

mat quick to withdraws his hand from the other guys grip, you give the two a confused look having no clue what they are talking about, “mat barzal, islanders player? please tell me you watch sports.” he laughs. you shake your head slowly looking up at your neighbor, who’s nervously playing with the hairs on the nape of his neck.

“hey man congratulations though!” the guy you’re talking to excuses himself, and you’re pretty sure he won’t be coming back, but that’s fine. mat’s here and from what you remember, it means his date didn’t go as planned.

“so you’re alone, it didn’t go well?” you turn to him and he shrugs a slight nod. he watches you play with the tiny straws in your drink trying to slurp the rest of the liquid.

“how many of those you had?” he chuckles watching you nearly chug half the drink before he jokingly pulls it away from your lips, “easy now.”

“I don’t know, they’ve all been free.”

he laughs watching you sway side to side from the music, but the alcohol that’s following through your body, “why don’t I buy you a glass of water and we can go home?” he offers, you happily nod heading to say goodbye to your friends.

once you’re out the doors of the bar, he drapes his coat around your shoulders and he offers for you to come inside his place. you’re eager to see the rest whether you’ll remember it or not, but you nod following him inside saying hello to his doorman.

when you enter his place most of it isn’t what you expected it to be. it’s minimal decorations, only a few decorative pieces of art work hang on the walls, and a hockey stick hangs above his dinning room table.

“Crosby’s stick. he gave it to me after my first game against him. I nearly cried.” he laughs watching you move across his floors taking in his space, you stop at the infamous window and look inside your apartment.

you can se the hallway that leads to your bedroom, the cat tree where you cat sleeps in, and the living room where you spend most of your time entertaining your boring nights.

“I didn’t realize how much you see of me.” you turn to him, he’s seated on his cream colored couch shaking his head.

“I look over yeah, but I know when to look away.”

“like when?” you dangerously ask, moving to sit beside him on his couch, he positions himself to look at you.

“okay like when you get out of the shower and you have on no towel, I know to look away. I’m not a pervert.” he scoffs having remembered the time his mother was over and nearly had a heart attack at the sight of you.

you gasp, hand covering your mouth, “do not tell me you’ve seen me in nothing but my underwear and bra?!”

he gives you look of confirmation without even saying the words, you hide your face into one of his pillows hearing that beautiful laugh ring your ears, “oh come on! it’s okay, I’m sure you’ve seen me in my underwear before.”

you pull your face away from the pillow with rosy red cheeks, “yeah but that’s different! you walk around in your shorts and nothing on all the time!”

he smirks, “oh so you do watch me?” watching you shove your face into the pillow of embarrassment once more.

“it’s okay, I like knowing it’s you watching me rather than some other girl. I was beginning to think you didn’t notice.”

you pull your face away from the pillow tossing it aside, “what’s that supposed to mean?” you ask, and it’s his faces turn to light up red.

“isn’t it obvious?”

you shake your head, “it’s as obvious as you playing a sport!”

he laughs moving a little closer to you on the couch, “I wouldn’t be asking someone which tie to wear if I didn’t like them a little more than a friend.” he places a hand against your kneecap watching you lean back against his couch.

“you like me more than just a neighbor?”

“I guess it’s not as obvious as I thought it would be.”

you shake your head, “you’re horrible at making things obvious, but it’s okay we can work on it.”

[drewsbuzzcut]

Champion In The Bed

mat barzal x model!fem!reader

a visceral in doses fic

warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT (very little spanking, teasing, and slightly edited) let me know if I missed anything

takes place February 2024

You follow Mat’s gaze as you’re sitting, straddling his lap and leaning back on your hands. He ogles your jersey and backwards cap clad form, and it’s not just any jersey, it’s his all star skills jersey. The material hangs off your body as it’s too big for you, but it does a nice job at hiding your black lingerie. His eyes pick up on the way you come off shy, but your fingers fiddling with his happy trail tells him otherwise. His hands rub your thighs and he subtly goes higher until they’re hidden under the jersey. Your body breaks out in chills just from his touch alone.

Everything feels like it’s in slow motion. It’s obvious that it’s Mat’s goal to tease you until you’re at your wits end. You attempt remaining stoic so he doesn’t know just how bad you want him, but each time he licks his lips or lets his eyes dip down to your covered up cunt, you feel your resolve start to disappear. It doesn’t help that he’s completely naked underneath you. His length stands at attention, waiting to be touched by you.

“Maty,” you whisper and softly adjust yourself so you’re leaning in closer to him.

“What, pretty girl?” He tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear after pulling his cap off your head, and you so badly want to suck his fingers into your mouth.

“I’m so proud of you. My hotshot, hockey boyfriend who is an all star. Fuck the skills comp, at least you can get me to cum. Plus, you looked so sexy in your jersey,” you whisper the praise in his ear, nipping at the lobe to get a small moan out of him.

“Not as sexy as you look in it,” he compliments as the tip of his nose trails along a vein in your neck. Your smooth, sweet perfume consumes him.

“Let me show you how proud I am. Let me ride you,” you plead, letting your lips on his jaw persuade him. You slip his cap back onto his head, backwards of course. He’s the hottest person you’ve ever seen, and it makes you insanely wet, you can feel it pooling in your underwear.

Your hips start to move on top of him, but his hands quickly land on your hips to halt your movements. You let out a disappointed huff that makes him chuckle.

“I thought this was about me?” He tuts and you nod your head in agreement.

“Then you’re going to be my good girl and wait until I’m ready for you to show me just how proud you are,” he chastises with a spank delivered to your ass. You let out a faint moan and throw your head back in frustration. He’s touching you but not enough and not where you need him most.

He lifts the jersey halfway up your torso, fingertips gliding over your soft skin. He unveils your see through, lacy panties. You notice the way his jaw clenched and the way his hands gripped the jersey tighter. He is having a tough time, too.

“As much as I love you wearing my jersey, I prefer you naked,” he grabs your chin, lips encompassing yours.

Your hands press into his chest. The feeling of his strong muscles drives you crazy. He slowly pulls the jersey off of you, watching the way you shiver and the way your nipples grow hard.

“Fuck. Look at you. My girl is so sexy.”

He presses a kiss to your neck and softly sucks on your skin until his mark is left behind. His lips move down to the tops of your breasts while he thumbs at your nipples over your lacy bra. You subconsciously arch into his touch, getting him to unclasp your bra expertly with one hand. He sends you a cocky smirk and a wink, and if you weren’t already soaked, that’d probably do the trick.

His thumbs tuck into the thin straps of your thong before sliding back out. He drags a finger from your bellybutton down to the top of your underwear. Before you can even figure out what he’s doing, Mat rips your thong in half.

“That was brand new,” you gasp.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll buy you a lot more when we get home,” he shushes you.

He fiddles with your “13” pendant on the chain around your neck before he pushes you to lean back like you originally were.

“Baby, please. Let me fuck you, please,” you beg as he starts to fist his cock.

He bites on his lip -something he does when he’s being a tease- and nudges your clit with his angry and leaking tip. You let out the sweetest moan and try to move your hips for some kind of friction. Sadly, he stills your movements and shoots you a warning glare. He suddenly lifts you up, pulling you closer and slipping his length in between your folds.

“C’mon, pretty girl. Make a mess,” he instructs you, guiding your hips back and forth until you start to move on your own.

Your hips start slow, trying to get used to the pleasure of this type of teasing. The more wet you become, the easier it is to grind against his length. Your hands rest on his broad shoulders for support and you let your arousal coat your boyfriend.

Your cunt practically jerks him off without him actually being inside of you, and you make sure to rub your clit against the veins of his shaft. Your pleasure drags out along his girth, moans spilling from the seam of your lips. His eyes are glued to the way you work yourself on him, feeling himself start to pulse. Your sticky slickness is a good look on him.

The look of lust that washes over your features turns him on even more, because he’s the one who’s making you feel this way.

“I think I’m going to cum,” you whisper. The pressure on your clit and the fact that Mat’s letting you make a mess on him drives you fast to an orgasm.

“Not yet,” he says, lifting your body off his lap and placing you on his thigh.

Your body is already thrumming, and your orgasm is lingering in your stomach ready to burst at Mat’s signal. You grind against his thick thigh, the hard muscle stroking your clit just right. He flexes the muscles in his thigh and then relaxes them. The action sends a vibration through you and that electricity drives you to the edge. You're barely holding onto your release, but the sensation is quickly making you crumble. You buck your hips faster and you hear the blood rushing to your ears as you continue to throb on top of him. Your wet cunt contracts around nothing and you so badly want his dick inside of you.

“Please, Maty. I need you. I want you inside of me,” you plead and he quickly hauls you off his thigh and pushes into your pussy in a quick stroke.

Your arms lock around his neck as you bounce on his cock, body on fire with how deep he hits inside of you. Your breasts sway in front of him and he shoves his face between the supple flesh. His mouth ravages your skin until you’re left a whimpering mess.

You rut up against him, screams clawing up your throat each time his tip massages your sweet spot. Your hands grab onto the bill of his cap, pulling it back to make tufts of hair stick out and stick to his forehead.

“Yes! Yes! Oh my god. Right there, baby. Fuck yes,” you let the scream rip through your entire body as heat and tingles start to spread beyond your stomach. You bounce down harder as your pussy continues to take him deeper. His hands grip your ass to try to slow you down, but the way your arousal drips down his shaft makes him lose his sanity.

“You better not cum. I can feel your little pussy squeezing down on me,” he grips your throat and speaks into your mouth as you slant your lips over his.

“I’m gonna cum,” you cry, mouth opening in a loud moan during your wet kiss.

Mat abruptly pulls out of you, ignoring your whimpers as he rises to his knees. He loops his arms under your knees, picking you up so your body is completely under his control. He thrusts back into you, using his grip on your hips to slam you down on him.

“Harder,” you whine, throwing your head back. Your chest heaves and you try to match his thrusts but his grip is too tight. You’ll have delicious fingerprints on the dips of your hips later. You feel your body start to shake, your orgasm looming over you. The way Mat bulges in your stomach drags him to the brink of his orgasm.

“You’re so sexy, baby. My needy girl, you like the way my cock feels deep inside of you?” He questions cockily. He knows you're enjoying it by the way your eyes keep rolling to the back of your head and the way you quiver in his grip.

“Yes, Barzy, yes!” You shout, looking dazedly at your man. His cap sits prettily on his head, his chain bounces with his movements, and the way he glows in sweat makes you dizzy. A new flurry of fire rushes to the tips of your fingers and toes. Your pussy clenches in desire.

“I’m gonna cum,” you cry.

“Cum for me, pretty girl,” he grants your wish, pounding into your boneless body.

Moans spill from his mouth as your warm, slick walls flutter around his cock and your orgasm surges through your body. Your all star looks deep into your eyes as he continues to drill into you until your nonsensical mewls become mixed with his grunts.

“Cum for me, baby,” you rasp.

He pulls out, laying you back on the bed and strokes his cock. His fist moves fast. A red flush blooming on his neck and chest as he feels his balls tighten.

“Yeah, baby. Just like that. My hot ass, all star boyfriend. Just like that, baby. Cum for me,” you spur him on, circling your clit for extra motivation.

“Fuck,” he whimpers as ropes of cum squirt onto your stomach.

You scoop some of his expense with your finger and pop it into your mouth.

“I love you,” he says as you obscenely moan around your digit.

Mat pulls your finger out of your mouth and replaces it with his tongue, making you even more breathless.

“I love you, baby. I’m so proud of you,” you press a chaste kiss to his lips and chest. One hand rests on his back while your other rests on the back of his neck, fiddling with the hair hidden underneath his hat. Your legs tighten around his hips to keep him close.

“Never leave my side,” he requests, tracing the pendant of your necklace.

“Never,” you assure him, combing your fingers through his hair as he cuddles into you, head resting on your chest and a hand placed on your stomach.

There’s nothing that can be compared to this feeling.

a/n: This was written fairly quickly so sorry if it’s all over the place. Enjoy!!