#Mathew Barzal smut | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mendeshoney · 10 months

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don’t tell me you’re my heartbreaker

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

Pairing: mat barzal x f!reader

Word Count: 10,251

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You could deal with that.

…Right?

You checked your watch again.

6:29 PM.

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

You really shouldn’t have done it.

Would it send him the wrong message?

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

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

If he showed up.

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

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

6:30 PM.

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

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

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

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

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

Your stomach twists.

Shit.

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

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

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

“Hi,” Mat breathes. “Sorry I’m late.”

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

Gorgeous fucker.

Stupidly beautiful.

Annoyingly perfect.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I want to give this another shot.”

You blink, partially stunned.

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

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

You hadn’t been expecting…this.

“You…what?” You stutter out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There was…definitely a lot to unpack there.

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

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

But that was…gone now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His whiskey on the rocks be damned.

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

You raised a brow in suspicion. “Okay?”

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

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

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

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

“Mat you don’t have to-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Almost.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That he didn’t risk losing you.

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

Now you were breaking his.

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

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

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

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

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

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

It's all my fault. He thinks miserably.

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

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

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

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

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

Idiot.

Fucking beautiful idiot.

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

And even that was taken away from you.

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

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

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

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

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

Please baby, please talk to me

Let me fix this baby

I need you to know how sorry I am

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

I need you

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

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

You weren’t sure you wanted this anymore.

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

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

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

And that was why this hurt so bad.

Because you felt it all anyway.

You fell together anyway.

You loved him anyway.

Love him anyway.

Fuck.

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

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

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

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

“It’s me.”

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

“Mathew?”

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

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

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

Definitely can’t open the door wearing that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shrug. “It’s okay.”

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

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

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

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

So you let him talk.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His heart cracks in his chest.

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

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

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

And he wasn’t going to start now.

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

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

You let out a shaky breath. “It’s-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Because you loved him.

He drove you batshit crazy, but you loved him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not yet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Breakfast?” You ask, playfully skeptic.

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

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

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

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

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

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yelenasdog · 1 year

Text

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

1K notes · View notes

abilouwrites · 6 months

Text

BARZAL BABY FEVER

Mat BARZAL 😻🤠

“Oh lindy loulou” I grin sweetly at the three month old as I hold her into my arms, smothering the sweet baby in kisses, “oh ain’t you jus the cutest lil gumdrop to ever be”

I used to hate when my southern accent would shine through but I’ve grown to not mind it as much, “yes you are, yes you are!” I rock her slowly shuffling back and fourth, Noah looks at me and I know he wants his a baby back but I’m not ready to give her up just yet.

“Y/n please, Linds needs her nap” He begs quietly as I continue playing with his daughter, tickling her tummy and watching as she grins and laughs a little, “Mat tell your girlfriend to give me my baby back”

He doesn’t respond, sitting and staring as I let her suckle on my finger, “Noah, Shh” I whisper gently as I make my way back to the couch, once she starts to fuss I stand back up and keep rocking her, “she’ll nap, don’t you worry”

“Just support her head” He nervously goes to stand but I turn away from him, “y/n please”

“I have little siblings, don’t worry” I wave him off, bouncing her up so she’s got her head on my shoulder.

Mat comes over to me and stands behind me gently kissing her forehead and nose, “can I hold her”

I frown but reluctantly let him hold Lindy, even though she’s not my baby, “she smells so good” I whine out as Mat holds the small infant.

My heart swells as I watch him cradle the little girl, maybe because I’m ovulating or maybe because I saw the ring in the back of his dresser, “she’s just the sweetest lil gooseberry”

Noah nods and I watch Sarah slowly creep outside of the bedroom, “god I’m so sorry I slept through it all” she apologizes rubbing her eyes, “can I get you anythin? Water? Tea, maybe coffee” she asks

“No we’re alright, you sleep well?” I ask, patting down the couch for her to come sit

“Yeah, I needed that. If you two want to babysit”

“Yes” Mat and I say without hesitation

Noah and his wife look at eachother with an excitement and love I adore.

“Next Saturday?”

Lindy and I are laying on the couch of Mat and I’s apartment, she’s playing with the little gold shine on my earrings. Mat left for an hour to hit the gym but he promised to bring back lunch.

“Hey cuties” Mat fawns as he walks back into the apartment. Setting a bag of food down onto the island table, “when’s her nap?” He asks quietly as Lindy rests her head on my chest and sprawls out on me.

“In a few minutes, but I wanna get her sleepy before I put her down” I tell him. Mat nods slowly picking her up, whispering softly as he gently places her down in the little crib Noah lent us.

I get up and make my way to the food mat bought, “good workout?” I ask as he quickly devours a large fry and a few of my chicken nuggets.

“Ya” he whispers out, “so uh this is really out of the blue.. do you think kids are in the cards for us?”

“I think so, at least I would really.. really love to have my own baby. We can’t keep Lindy forever” I confess, “I’m sure once they’re back to a regular sleeping schedule they’ll miss her”

“With the way Noah’s blowing up my phone lately I think they already miss her”

#hockey #nhl #nhl blurb #nhl fanfiction #mat barzal smut #mat barzal x reader #mathew barzal #husband material #mat barzal #mat barzal my beloved

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behoright · 1 year

Text

console me l m. barzal

how it feels to rest / on your patient lips

summary: as angry as mat is after the season loss, he cannot hide it from you. mostly plotless smut

wordcount: 4.6k

warnings: minors DNI! 18+ only. smut, sexual situations that include rough sex, degrading language and behaviors, pain/pleasure dynamics, pet names, consent break/check, bodily fluids. mentions of size difference and love lol.

a/n: for all my sad, islanders girlies. masterlist is fixed! muah.

read me please: i cannot say this any more clearly: this is not for everyone. read at your discretion. the warnings are stated as clearly as i can my loves. my inbox is always open to have any discussion about writing, relationships, sex, bdsm and kink. if this makes you uncomfortable or simply is not your cup of tea, move on my dear. love u guys always.

⊹　　　🎧　　　 ⁾⁾　

It really took only a day to figure out.

As much as he tried to hide it, leave it at the rink.

Anger.

Mat had never been so pissed before.

For once, he knew that he had given it his all.

He had sacrificed, time and time again.

Played through sickness, injuries, birthdays, and special events.

Harder than ever before.

Despite knowing that everything passes, he couldn’t shake the thought, or perhaps the fact, that there had been other factors that cost the team the cup.

Things out of his control.

And it drove him to the edge every night.

Having to see his teammates get more disappointed with every passing second on the ice.

Knowing that their dream was slipping away from them, no matter how much he had clawed and fought to hold on.

He spent extra time at the gym, on the ice, hours after the last painful loss, just to attempt to get rid of the anger.

But it wasn’t working.

Instead, it just fueled the apparent neverending and burning cycle.

The last thing he wanted to do was bring his negativity home.

Back to you.

To the safe haven you had both built so meticulously.

The only person that stood by his side, in every sense of the word, didn’t deserve to take the brunt.

However, you could see the cracks.

He was very good at veiling it, but not good enough for you.

The past couple days had brought you a huge sense of gratitude, knowing you were in a relationship that stripped your souls and bodies.

Fully being yourselves at all times.

So, as you packed to begin your various summer travels, you knew you had no other choice.

Something was pounding, deep from inside you, to open this door for you two.

You stood in your shared room, watching Mat’s muscular back crouched down in the walk in closet as he messily threw his shirts in his luggage.

“Mat?” you called him, voice shaky.

“Hmm, babe?” he asked, still packing.

“How are you feeling?”

The question wasn’t anything new, a domestic ritual you two had to keep your connection based in truth wholly.

Since you had both promised to listen without any stories or distractions in exchange for the complete truth, every single time, it had become easier to share.

“Well, love…” he sighed, not daring to face you as his face stiffened, your question bringing up his most repressed feelings. “I’m angry. I’m fucking frustrated at how it all ended, you know?”

“You are?” you said, walking towards him, picking at the skin on your hands nervously.

“Yeah, baby. It’s okay, I mean, it’ll pass. But I’m angry.”

“Take it out on me.” you blurted out, strong in your stance and words, now only a couple of feet behind him. “Fuck me as hard as you can.”

Mat stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes widening as his mind emptied, only being able to stare at the half empty suitcase in front of him.

Whether he liked to admit it or not, he knew that you could see right through him.

There was no hiding from the woman he loved.

“I know that we’ve talked about this before but… are you sure you can handle it?” he questioned, turning around to look at you.

“I know I can, Mat.”

“Baby…”

The overhead warm light surrounded your head like a halo as he looked up at you.

He wondered, during a poetic moment, how his angel could be giving herself over to him like this.

“I’m asking for it.” you said, taking a step closer to him. “Can you handle it?”

For a moment he forgot that his sweet angel was no such thing behind closed doors. Ever since the first night, he saw that dark fire inside you, and it hadn’t gone out in years.

Mat was the perfect fan to your flames.

“Oh, so it’s like that huh?” Mat answered, his lips curling up into a smirk as he stood up to tower over you. “Will you tell me if you need me to stop?”

“Yes.” you gulped as you two stood just inches apart. “I remember my word.”

“You do, huh?” he asked as you saw his feet take one last step towards you, the fabric of his shirt ghosting over yours.

“I can take it.” you repeated, getting lost in his eyes as you looked up into his dark eyes.

“Yeah, we can take it, right, baby?” he uttered, his fingers wrapping around the sides of your neck as his eyes looked down upon you. “We fucking can.”

His lips finally met yours, Mat’s tongue swiping feverishly on your bottom lip before invading your mouth, drippingly meeting yours in a heated makeout session.

The belligerence of his kiss sent a moan reberverating inside his open mouth.

Mat loved to make out. He could do it for hours, until his cock began to twitch restlessly in his denim.

He opened his mouth fully, letting you invade each other messily.

Lately, he had taken it as far as to spit in your mouth. Not forcefully, but just letting a trail of spit drip from the tip of his tongue into your throat, the height difference coming to his advantage.

It felt so fucking primal to him that it always sent you flying against a wall everytime he’d see the look of passion and satisfaction in your eyes after you swallowed his saliva.

“Is this what you’ve been thinking about? All those times I was heated, venting at you?”

he asked, forcing you to take steps back into the bedroom, still holding you tightly, the tips of his fingers pushing against the ridges of your scalp.

“Yes.” you whispered into a kiss. The sensual murmur drove him to bite your bottom lip, pull it towards him as he stopped your motions.

“Oh, what is wrong with you, baby? That’s so fucking bad.” he said, watching the bite swell up exquisitely as you smiled, enticing him into more kisses.

More spit, boiling into each other and pushing each other unconsciously as you two ondulated in your heat. He began to shove himself intensely against you, getting more of those moans he loved so much.

“You can’t even be quiet when I kiss you.” he said, shaking his head slowly as his hand came to rest on the front of your neck. He flinched backwards when you attempted to kiss him again.

It was his bedroom now.

“Come here.” he barked, sitting down on the bed. “This will shut you up.”

He didn’t have to repeat himself before you kneeled in front of him, not even giving him a chance to undo his pants before your mouth salivated over him. He rested his long fingers on your shoulder, almost keeping you tamed as he pulled out his erection.

“Eager, eager girl.” he chuckled, watching you leap onto him.

You wished you could take him entirely the second your tongue met the salty precum that had dribbled down his shaft, but that had never been a possibility.

Unbeknownst to you, Mat fucking loved it.

He adored that you struggled to take him, that you wanted so hard to swallow him whole at a first try.

His head fell back, exposing his thick adam’s apple as it thumped in his throat, Mat trying to hide his gulps every time your lips wrapped around him lower and lower.

You knew just how to please him, swirling your tongue and hollowing your cheeks just at the right minute spots that still took his by surprise every single time.

Mat felt your desperation as you kept taking him down, so eager to please him. For a second, it enchanted him, filling him with gratitude that he had a partner that so badly wanted to destress him.

However, it was short-lived.

It was not what you wanted, or what he needed.

“Fuck.”

It felt good, his toes slowly beginning to curl as he felt strings of precum coat the back of your throat, but the more he channeled the feeling that he had pushed away for so long, the more restless he became.

Every time you gagged, your muscles would clench around him, shocking him with exhilarating stimulation.

“Sit up. Now.” he said, strictly, jumping out of his experience. You tentatively moved away from him, the only thing connecting you two now being a sloppy trail of saliva.

“Baby, I-, I-...” you said, uncertainly.

“You what? Hmm?” he asked, undressing as you stared at him dumbfounded.

Throughout the years, Mat had never sounded so stern in the bedroom as he did now.

“You asked for angry Mat, didn’t you?” he continued, tapping your head demeaningly in an effort to sit you up. “Beggars can’t be choosers, doll.”

The register in his voice was forceful and humiliating enough to send your desire running down the inside of your thighs, his muscular hands working on practically ripping your clothes off so harshly that he had thrown you off balance a couple of times.

Your heart began to race in anticipation as he silently threw the half-trashed garments through the room.

He was decisive, precise in his actions, and it made you slightly trepid.

Prolepsis and nerves mixing acidly in your stomach; you knew you had the choice to revoke consent anytime, but you were grounded enough to know that Mat was the safest man to do this with.

Apart from working up to it for months now, and seeing him slowly come out of his shell and let go further every time he got you to himself behind closed doors, you knew how much you wanted this.

Your body knew as well, your blood rushing rapidly to your cunt as he kept grazing against your skin, snapping the back of your bra before discarding it mindlessly. You could feel the flames of his subjugated feelings simmering again, coming to the surface the more he got out of his head and into his body, his breath becoming deeper and hotter against your skin, breathing out frustration with low, vibrational groans.

“Get on the bed.” he yapped as soon as you were fully naked, his hand pushing you a tad bit too potently onto your bed; so much so that you naturally rested your sweaty limbs on the blankets on all fours.

“Look how wet you are. You’re not embarrassed?” he spit out, running his finger up your slit sloppily as he set himself behind you. “I haven’t even touched you, Y/N.”

He was just a hair over the line, authoritative in his colloquy and pinpointing his acts precisely to get you where he wanted.

He didn’t care to run himself on your slit, not tonight, his cock still dripping with your thick spit. He thrusted entirely into you, his pounding head coming in contact with your cervix instantly, making your body barely jolt forward.

“You should be fucking ashamed, Y/N, not moaning.” he barked, as he began to move painfully slow. His thick length, running in and out of your tight walls at a lethargic pace.

Still, feeling every inch so powerfully split you apart with no preparation, the ridges of his member and his veins skimming your engorged insides ripped moans out of you like never before.

“You just love being a fuck toy for me, don’t you.” he said, roughly intensifying the grip on your hips as he gradually sped up his movements. He sounded just as rough, doing his best to hold back any signs of satisfaction, but it wasn’t easy. He had made you into a mess so quickly and it mostly came down to his demeanor.

Ever since he met you, he knew he’d treat you right and respectfully, only you.

He never cared to seem friendly to other girls, truthfully; because he had you.

The only girl that had naturally commanded such a soft love and tenderness out of him. It was almost ironic to him how the tougher he was with you in between the sheets, the more you melted.

And god, did he love to see you like this.

Spread vulnerably and already on the brink after a handful of thrusts.

It drove him mad, struggling to keep any self-control just to have you on a tittering edge.

But feeling you drip around him, your yearning for him ebbing and flowing out of your pussy as it mixed with the spit that you’d left on his cock, now all of it mixing and coating both of you.

“Yeah, my little doll.” he said, masking his exasperation as he found a steady rhythm that made your ass recoil delightfully against his pelvis, the chiseled V that framed his cock pounding hard into your flesh as you began to see stars.

Your mouth was stuck open, wanting his call out his name miserably but finding it impossible as the tension kept building within you, tightening your pussy all around and sending shivers down his back as his legs began to tense, inch by inch.

He groaned deeply, squeezing his eyes shut and striving to pivot on that feeling he adored so much, all the sensations that came with being buried deep inside you.

But all he found was that anger.

The emotion he had tried to leave at work, to get past.

The one that you had noticed.

For good reason, because it was unignorable.

And so he focused on it, the frustration that he had accumulated for months beginning to expand and find its way insidiously through every vessel, every corner of his being. His jaw clenched, the more he let it take over him, the more pleasure would grow, passing from you to him and burning brightly in his belly.

The hinges of the bed creaked and slammed against the wall, his bedframe scratching against his beloved wooden floor as his ears were blessed with your saccharine moans, leaving you unexpectedly and unplanned.

Your body knew how to take him precisely as his thrusts moved you forward, encouraging all the natural sounds to come out of you instinctively.

He was afraid that if he let go of your hips that he would lose it.

He was afraid that he’d pound you right into the mattress; instead, he had a set intention to make this last, to see how far he could take you.

Mat had never heard you sound so beautiful, he thought, just as his rage came to a peak; he could feel his joints begin to sore as he gave it his all, unwilling to stop and let go, fully zoned into unloading his stress.

He never knew it would bring you so much bliss as he looked down and saw the consequences, heavenly squelching echoing against his growls. He knew you were losing it, micro mannerisms in your body letting him see that you were reaching your orgasm hastily.

He didn’t need to see your face.

He knew that that familiar blush had knocked at your door, covering your cheeks expansively as your moaning got more high-pitched and frenetic, your pussy twitching around his moving cock.

“Slow down, you’re making a fucking mess.” he commanded, smugly knowing it would allow it to rip through you, just as it did.

His knuckles turned white just as yours did, the grip on your sheets fatally unyielding as you let go, coming over Mat.

The pleasure sparking every synapse in your brain, the cozy feeling flashing through you over and over again as he kept fucking, still roughly and aggressively.

“You’re fucking gushing.” he said, brave enough to let a hand come down, hard on your ass. The nonchalant tone of disgust in his voice made your whole body light up, tiny bumps forming on your skin at his words as you began to come down from your orgasm.

Mat kept relentlessly, only speeding up, just edging at the border of being too much. As he hit the same spot over and over again, forcefully, your limbs became weak, succumbing to the tremoring that Mat was sending through your system.

The more you came on him, the more degrading he’d become, periodically spitting onto your core. You knew it wasn’t for any functional purpose more than for humiliating pleasure, giving you everything you craved and more. You couldn’t ask for more, his groans and insults filling up the room; however, the needier you acted, the more Mat would crack under you.

And the more you pretended you didn’t notice it, the harder your eyes would roll back.

“You’re so fucking loud, god damn. I’d tell you to shut up, but I know you can’t do it, you’re so heated up.”

Your muscles started to twitch faintly as he snuck his hand around you to rub your clit vigorously, pushing against your skin with sadistic pressure. As much as you tried to get any words of warning out, your body betrayed you, falling pathetically flush against the mattress, the only thing leaving you a whimper.

The movement wasn’t surprising to you; you had noticed the build-up and distress signals a while ago but had stupidly given in to the thrill instead.

For Mat, however, it was a different story.

Seeing you tremble against his milky sheets, writhing around slowly and whimpering had him worried immediately. He pulled out swiftly before turning you around.

Thankfully, your eyes found each other, giving him an encouraging sign of lucidity from you.

“Look into my eyes. Are you okay?” he said, clenching his fingers underneath your chin.

“M’kay.”

Through blurry vision, you were able to find his dark gaze, regardless of how he was touching your face. The grip on your cheek was so protective and yet you couldn’t ignore the hedonism in his touch.

“What is it? I’m not going to keep fucking you if you’re lying to me.” he said, harshly.

Your brain had melted, completely caved into him, his energy and touch that had brought you to this place so quickly. The unfamiliar floaty feeling neighbored you as you began to tranquilize your boyfriend.

“I’m not lying.” you muttered lazily, gaining enough strength to prop yourself up on your elbows, your nose now touching his. “It just feels so good, Mat.”

Your confession took Mat by surprise.

His worst fear was taking it all too far, unwillingly hurting you in any way, whether that be physically or otherwise.

All the same, here you were, in all of your splendor under him, shaking from pleasure.

It didn’t take long to realize that perhaps he had induced some sort of high, if that was possible.

“You need a kiss?” he asked, his eyes still diligently studying your face. “You need a kiss, don’t you, yeah, come here.”

It wasn’t frenzied or fiery, and still, it told him everything he needed to know.

“That’s all? Better?” he looked at you once more, running his mental checklist.

Eyes were good, skin not too flushed, she can kiss normally, and speak. Not dehydrated or pale.

“Much better.”

The transparency in your speech set in stone what he had thought of.

The words that so easily came out of him, his mannerisms and gestures had sent you haywire, quivering with vibrant intensity, the bliss forcing its way out of your pores, steaming from your skin.

“Good job.” he coaxed, mentally patting himself on the back with a smirk as you fell back down onto the cloudy mattress with a dreamy sigh, a hazy look fixated on him.

Drunk on pleasure, he thought, snickering.

“I bet you feel so dirty, don’t you?” Mat said, his chest heaving with warm sweat dripping from his stubble down onto his pecs. Vulnerability surrounded you both, your eyes running upon each other’s bodies. Taking this moment to pause made sure you were attending to each other fully and completely, the desire still consuming you thoroughly. In the quietness, Mat took his fingers and began running them down your abdomen, barely grazing your clammy skin.

“I asked you a question, doll.” he said, moving his touch again up your centerline. You could only nod, his fingertips electrifying you with eternal bliss as they found their resting place on your plump lips.

“Are you having trouble with your words?” he said, breathlessly mocking you before you stuck your tongue out, soaking his digits by letting them sit on you.

After all, Mat didn’t think he could break any further.

Until then.

Seeing you embrace the feeling gave him the reassurance that he was subconsciously looking for.

He was incredulous at your actions, sticking your tongue out fully, with no shame or guilt, and only for him.

Letting your spit absorb into his calloused skin, while more saliva pooled visibly at the back of your throat.

Disgustingly.

And it made his throbbing cock twitch, heedlessly slapping against your cunt in a wet motion.

“Fuck, angel.”

He pushed it further by entering your mouth and your pussy simultaneously, a choked moan surrounding his hand as your eyes flew back.

“That’s my fucking girl.” he said, his eyebrows furrowed as he wasted no time in his fucking, militantly filling you fully again. “Doesn’t it make you feel so good, baby?”

“It does.” you moaned, obediently answering his every question and request.

“Doesn’t it feel so fucking good to be so dirty for me?” he asked, flush taking over him again.

It was so delightful to see him let go, fully, just as he thought the same about you.

“So nasty, such a sick little girl.” he continued. “Turn around, come here.”

Mat sat back on his heels, guiding you to sit on his cock.

The will was stronger than logic, your thighs quivering as you sunk down on him.

Mat always hit deeper at this angle, his cock bulging out on your lower tummy as your ass came flush with him.

“You’re so bad, so fucking bad. And look at you, you don’t even care.” he said, moving your hair to the side as his lips grazed against the shell of your ear.

“What would everyone say if they saw you acting like this, huh? Begging to take me after I’m so mean to you. After I slap you, choke you, and spit on you. After I say the most degrading fucking shit to you, you don’t care. It makes your panties drenched, doesn’t it?”

Mat’s hands ran up past your tummy and found a tight hold on your tits, variating between letting them bounce in his palm and gripping them so desperately that it left marks on you. Your chests moved in synch, up and down with your motions; you let your head fall back on his shoulder as you unavailingly rebounded briskly, tightening just at the perfect moment, when your opening came in touch with the delicious curve between his pelvis and the base of his cock.

“Just as I fucking thought, you can’t even hold back.” he said, grinding ever so slightly against you. The recognizable feeling started to take over you for the millionth time, candied moans causing Mat to jolt against you unexpectedly and thrust deeper.

“You’re going to cum again, aren’t you?” he asked, slapping one of your breasts. “Your body gives you away so easily, angel face.”

He was solid under you, your loving foundation as more juices ran out of you, covering his thighs in sticky squirt, your whole being quivering in delight with his arms instinctively holding you through it.

“That’s because you’re mine, yeah?”

Your eyes, stuck on the ceiling, recognized just how close his face was to yours, gaze fixated on your expression as it furrowed and sweated the incessant orgasm.

“Yeah, I don’t even have to fucking ask.”

Mat kept talking, kept grinding, as his hands got more desperate, undecided between all the layers of skin and flesh. The more he focused on you, the more he felt like he couldn’t hold back any longer, and as much as he felt that most of the night, he knew that the simple intemperance that had built inside him was about to burst.

“Look at you. You need more? You always fucking do.” he coaxed, settling his left hand on your throat as your whole body kept aching, spasming sweetly on top of him.

Totally uncontrolled.

Unaware of what liquids were leaving you and what noises you were making.

Your brain only handling and pining for pleasure.

More and more.

“It’s never fucking enough for you, is it? You love it when I cross the line with you, you needy, needy girl.” he said, his grip on your throat tightening slightly enough to make your dotted vision fill with sparkles.

Your head snapped up as your abdomen contracted, almost painfully sore, finally letting you breathe deeply as your body gave you a second to recuperate.

Tears involuntarily left the corners of your eyes, perhaps from the delectation of it all, the intensity, the overwhelm, or the tiredness.

“It feels so, so good. You make me feel so good.” you managed to find the strength to whisper against Mat’s lips before letting yours fall on top of his in a loving kiss.

“Oh, god, you’re going to make me cum, baby.”

Mat’s voice quivered, as he stared into you; he had never breathed deeper and yet hyperventilated at the same time, just as he'd never felt so much rage and frustration mixed with pleasure all at once.

“Like that, like that, like that.” he said, through gritted teeth. “Fucking look at me.”

He grabbed your chin roughly, your face pouting under his touch in the cutest way, he thought. “Like that, baby, fuck.”

Mat exclaimed loudly as he colvulsed forward, his cum filling your tight hole with a growl so deep that you felt yourself vibrate at the power in his voice. You sloppily kept jumping on his dick, every single muscle of his being flexing in concentration and gratification as his warm seed seeped inside you and overflowed, running down his hips before he had the chance to pull out.

“Oh, fuck, baby.” he moaned, breathlessly. You finally fell, completely limp, into the puddle that he made you in since the beginning.

“That’s okay, that’s okay, fall into my arms.” Mat reassured, still firing under you. “You did so good. You were so, so good, angel.”

Mat had enough of a size advantage on you to manhandle you, this time turning you both onto your sides after a couple of quiet moments, keeping his cock warm still inside your folds.

“I love you, I love you, baby. So much. Thank you, thank you. Come here.” he whispered against you, running his hand through your locks as he pulled you closer to him by your waist.

“Are you good, baby?” he said, watching you nod with a sweet smile on your face. “Why are you crying?”

“It just felt so good, babe.” you reassured him, turning slightly to play with his shining chain that sat damply on his collarbones.

“I would never hurt you, yeah? You’re safe with me.” he whispered into your cheek in between kisses. “I got you always, babe. Nothing’s going to hurt you while I’m here.”

“I know, baby, I love you.” you said, your eyes into his. “Are you okay, Mat?”

“Oh, baby, yes, yes I’m okay don’t worry. Was I too rough? Too mean? You can tell me, love.”

“No, no, it was perfect.” you repeated. You’d say it as many times as it was needed.

“Good. You were perfect.” he said.

You didn’t know, but he thought the same. Reassurance had no limit for him.

“I see you, I see you fully and I love you, I love everything about you.”

“I love you more, Mat.” you said in between kisses. “Do you feel better now?”

“Oh, baby. So much fucking better.”

#mat barzal #mathew barzal #mat barzal rpf #mat barzal smut #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal fic #ny islanders #smut #nhl #nhl rpf #hockey #nhl fic #nhl smut #hockey smut #kikiwrites

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brokenanxiety · 6 months

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imagine mathew fucking you after she came back from collage classes🤤

you hated night labs so fucking much but sucked it up because you wanted to graduate on time. class got out at 8 and you were home at 8:15 on the dot. perks of having a shared place with mat close to campus. he was inside on the couch waiting for you. he finished practice a couple hours ago and had time to make you two some dinner, which was waiting on the stove. "hi baby," mat says. you say nothing as you climb into his lap and squeeze him tight. "class was that bad tonight?" all you could mutter was a little "mhm." mat's hands made their way on your ass giving you a light smack. "baby, you know what might help? how about i treat you like a princess tonight and help you forget about your big girl problems? you would like that wouldn't you?" you could feel him get hard under you and all you could do was smile and nod. "you're such a good little girl and so responsive too. now why don't you start grinding that sweet little cunt on my thigh, yeah?" you do as your told and you could feel yourself get wetter by the second. you know you are about to leave a huge wet mark on his sweatpants but you were too blissed out to care. "awww look at my little baby, not a single big girl thought in that brain of yours. just looking to cum," mat cooed. and that's all it took for your to reach your first orgasm that night. once you come down from your hight, he takes this opportunity to flip you two over and to take off your pants and panties. he asks "what do you want princess? my cock or my fingers?" you could barely form a coherent response but he was able to make out 'please' and 'cock'. "anything you want princess," mat replies as he pushes his cock into your dripping cunt. "fuck baby, your cunt was made for me. it's perfect, just like you." you could only moan as a response. "you're doing so good for me. squeezing me just like that. im not gonna last much longer." mat knew you were close, and so was he. "mat im gonna cum," you choke out between moans. "me too princess, wanna cum in you," mat replies back. "yes mat please, fill me up. i wanna feel you inside me." a few more thrusts and you were cumming in his arms and he was not far behind. his cum painting your insides felt like heaven and you didn't want him to pull out not, not yet at least. you two lay on the couch for a few minutes before he pulls out to clean you up and so that you can go pee. after you two clean up and change you are both down in the kitchen eating over the stove. mat is hugging you from behind and feeding you the pasta he made for the both of you, enjoying the comfortable silence. when he says, "i love you know. you are smartest girl in the world and there is nothing you can't do. im going to the proudest boyfriend in the whole world during your graduation next year." you can help but smile and blush because you have the best boyfriend in the world, "shut up you sap, i love you too."

#mat barzal #mathew barzal #matbarzal #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal smut #mat barzal imagine #answered #rebecca's neurons are firing

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2-fast-2-curious · 8 months

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Heeeey, do you have any more Barzy audios? Like kinda dom?

[M4F] Study break with your sweet boyfriend

[Stress Relief] [Improvisation] [Kisses] [Praise] [BFE] [Good girl] [Cuddling in my arms] [Sleep aid] [Baby] [Body appreciation] [Soft and sleepy voice] [Reassurance] [Drift to sleep] [Holding you] [Insomnia] [Taking care of you] [Cute and Sweet] [SFW]

Creator Reddit: u/daxfaps

#christine recommends audios #smut #ice hockey #hockey #national hockey league #nhl #nhl players #mat barzal #mathew barzal #new york islanders #x reader #x you

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adorethedistance · 1 year

Text

Black and White - Mat Barzal x Reader

Hockey Masterlist

Warnings: Swearing, mentions anxiety, almost pg13

Words: 1385

Summary: After attending one of the isles’ many fundraising events, a simple walk in the park turns into a moment the two of you will never forget.

A/n: I’m like 90% done with finals and so I’m filling this anonymous request as a result. I hope y’all like this quick little fic and as an update there’s a fluffy Zegras fic in the works.

“Thank you for coming with me tonight,” Mat says from behind a fleeting scoop of bubblegum ice cream. The Islanders fundraising gala was fun and all but Mat and I dipped out before closing remarks in favor of grabbing ice cream before Baskin Robbins closed. So now we’re walking around a random park, black tie attire, in the cold Long Island night.

“You don’t have to thank me, I’m your girlfriend. Being your plus one is part of the gig, and I’m more than happy to do it.” Mat lets go of my hand to lift his arm and gesture me over. I gladly accept the warmth as I’m nearly freezing from walking around at night in a light coat while eating ice cream. He hugs me into his side and kisses my cheek gently. I breathe a small laugh as his lips are still cold.

“How do you know if you want to marry someone?” Mat asks out of nowhere. I hesitate for a second, jarred by his candidness.

“Are you asking me specifically or like the general ‘you’?”

“I’m asking you specifically.” I pause to collect my thoughts and Mat watches me carefully.

“...Well…I think for me specifically…I want an equal relationship where I feel like I lean on them as much as they lean on me for support. I want someone who respects my boundaries and knows I’m their partner and not their therapist. Whoever it is will get along with my family and at the very least tolerate my friends,” we share a small laugh amidst the tense moment. “I want someone who understands how I give love and helps me understand how to give them love and- why are you looking at me like that?” Mat barks out a nervous laugh. He takes his arm off of my shoulders and messes with his hair a bit. One of his nervous habits that I’m not sure he realizes he has.

“Do you think… I meet those requirements?” I hesitate but only because I’m trying to remember everything that I said.

“Yes, I think you do.” Mat smiles relieved before taking my hand in his own once more, placing a kiss on the top of it. We continue through the park, heading back to the car when a sudden flash of light catches our attention. Looking to the source, we see that a gazebo covered in christmas lights had previously not been lit. I snap my head around to look at Mat and the look on his face tells me he already knows just how excited I am about it.

“I don’t know how I didn’t notice this before!” I say as I’m pulling Mat along with me. His pace was too casual for the kind of urgency this sight has instilled in me. As we get closer, someone stands up and I stop in my place. I don’t want to impose on someone else’s time with the pretty lights. Opening my mouth to speak, I immediately cut myself off when I recognize the not so unfamiliar stranger.

“Beau?” I ask when he turns around. He looks at me, slightly panicked. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh my god, no way!” I hear a woman’s voice from behind me and Mat. I turn around to see it’s Emma emerging from a weird angle. She’s coming at us from behind rather than from the parking lot or from the shops.

“Long time no see,” I joke, happy to see our friends despite just spending the last three hours with them. “What’s up? Are you guys also on a walk… at the same park?” Beau and Emma share a look before she gestures him over to where she’s standing.

“Yeah, I was telling him about this gazebo because I drove by one night and the lights were just so pretty I wanted to show him.”

“Gotcha. Well if you want, I can take some cute pictures of the two of you!” I offer happily and Emma and Beau share another look.

“That… would be great, thank you! Beau?” She looks at him and nods over to the gazebo. He looks at Mat with the most confused look I’ve ever seen.

“You okay?” I ask as Emma hands me her phone. She has to physically walk over and grab Beau which snaps him back into reality.

“Yeah I’m good,” he replies quietly and walks into the gazebo. Emma barely poses and I’m about to snap the third photo when she breaks away and walks over to get her phone from me.

“That should be good, thank you.”

“Are you sure? I only took like three-”

“Yeah, no, we’re good! Your turn!” She says urgently and nudges me toward the gazebo. I decide not to push back and when I turn to beckon Mat over, he doesn’t follow.

“I’ll hold your coat so you can get outfit pictures first.” I reluctantly nod and then shrug off my jacket. Why is everyone being so weird?

“You gotta hurry because I am FREEZING!” I instruct Emma and she laughs before nodding.

“Copy that.”

“Okay, I want full fit and shoes for some and then just waist up in the others,” I speak quickly before posing and trying not to shiver violently. “Fuuuuuucckk it’s so cold.” All three of them laugh at my dramatics. Mat shakes his head amusedly and then hands my coat to Beau so he can get in the pictures. He wraps an arm around my waist for a few pictures and Emma snaps approximately two before putting on her director hat.

“Okay, Y/n stay where you are. Mat can I have you stand to the side of her but take a tiny little step back?”

“How should I pose without him…?” I ask skeptically. I don’t think I can see the creative vision and I hope Mat is also a little lost so I don’t just look like an idiot. When I turn to see if he’s also puzzled, I don’t get the moment I’m hoping for. Rather than sharing a confused look and laughing about it, I find him placed just out of my line of sight on one knee with one hand tucked into his jacket pocket.

My eyes go wide for a millisecond before welling up so full of tears that I can no longer see. I hold my right hand over my mouth to keep myself from crying harder. Mat has small tears in his eyes as he holds a small velvet box the color of the Isles signature blue.

“Y/n… you are the love of my life. I remember the first time you came over to my apartment. It was date number four. I made us dinner and you went to the bathroom and when you came back you were very anxious.” I laugh through my tears as I recall the evening and how the story went.

“You were acting weird the entire night and when I asked what was wrong, you were silent for a minute before asking if I “actually” used 3-in-1 shampoo. I laughed so hard I nearly cried and from that moment on, I knew you were endgame.” His simple word choice makes me laugh and the swelling of emotions in my chest makes me forget just how cold I was before.

“Y/n Y/l/n, will you marry me?” I begin to sob so uncontrollably that I can’t speak so I just nod an emphatic yes. Mat smiles brightly before taking the ring out of the box and sliding it onto it’s permanent spot on my left hand.

I don’t even wait for him to stand up before grabbing his face and kissing him with the passion only two people madly in love could ever know. He kisses me back and places his hands on my waist. Emma and Beau cheer and I remember they’ve been here the whole time.

“You motherfuckers! You knew, didn’t you?” They laugh at my outburst and confirm my suspicion. Mat rises to his full height and when he’s standing I playfully shove his chest. “That’s why you were being so weird today!”

“How does it feel to be engaged, man?” Beau asks and Mat huffs a long sigh.

“I don’t know, I think I blacked out.”

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wintfleur · 6 days

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I know I haven’t given you guys much about my Juliette au! But please send in some asks, questions/thoughts and blurbs and I’ll try to answer some of them tomorrow !!!

#🍂 ͡ ꒱ Juliette Leclerc #💌julietteleclerc!#⋆ ˚｡⋆୨🤎୧˚ Juliette’s lovers #⋆ ˚｡⋆୨🎞️୧˚ smutty lovers #mathew barzal x oc #mat barzal x oc #mathew barzal imagine #mat barzal imagine #quinn hughes x oc #quinn hughes imagine #nhl x oc #nhl x reader #nhl smut #mat barzal #quinn hughes #charles leclerc x sister!reader #leclerc sister fic

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hockeysnapsgalore · 3 months

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Because Matthew Barzal is hot🥵🥵

#hockeysnapsgalore #hockey snaps #hockey #hockey smut #mathew barzal #mathew barzal smut #new york islanders #new york islanders smut #snapchat #smut snaps

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barzysunflower · 4 months

Note

enemies to lovers with mat with D 13 and D 22. media girl x star player where mat loves to get under her skin because he’s dumb and can’t admit he likes her. she breaks up with her horrible bf and one night when she is out with the team something changes

thank you so much for the request!! this turned out very smutty but also a long part of plot so I hope you like it <3

13. “Let me help you forget that jerk.” & 22. “Do you feel what you’re doing to me.”

word count: 6.5k

warnings: drinking, jerk ex boyfriend, SMUT (18+)

"Oh, hey guys." The elevator door opened and a bunch of laughing hockey players stumbled out.

"Hey, (y/n)! Not going back to your room are you?" Oliver broke from the conversation to greet you.

"Yeah, actually. Kinda tired," you replied, hoping the stained tears you'd just dried in the bathroom weren't that obvious.

"Oh, come on. The night is young. Come out with us." He pointed to the guys behind him, including Mat, who looked at you with an expression you couldn't make out.

"Had a bad night so far, I think I just want to stay in," you said, shaking your head and forcing a smile.

"Well, what a better way to end it with a drink?," Matt Martin chimed in, his charming smile almost convincing you.

"I think she doesn't want to come. So let her be," the other Mat said, not even looking at you, and turned away from you and started shooing the guys in the direction of the exit. The guys let it go and with a wave they started following Mat.

As you watched them walk away, the tone in which Mat had said it sunk in and the sadness you had just felt turned into anger. Looking back on the relationship you had with Mat over the past few months, you could tell you really didn't have any. You were friendly with all of the other guys, coming to work was always a blast and with being around the team so often you had developed many inside jokes and gotten to know most of the very well. Except Mat. You could tell he had a problem with you but you didn't know why when everyone else was so nice to you. When you walked into a room and Mat was joking around and acting goofy, this side of him immediately stopped when he saw you. He was always acting quiet and when it came time for you to film content with him, he was acting like his normal self when the camera was on, but the second it was off and it was just the two of you, he was back to quiet and mumbled backhanded comments.

"You know what," you snapped out of your thoughts. "I think this night does call for a few drinks."

Wally turned around with a victory shout and threw his arm around you when you caught up with them.

***

"Alright, now tell me why you're downing these shots like you want to black out." Wally's face was already a bit blurry when you moved your head too quickly, but you finally forgot your boyfriend. Sorry. Ex-boyfriend.

That's right. After three years, you finally saw through all of the red flags and gaslighting and had enough of his bullshit. Or maybe it was the fact that you caught him cheating that made you realize all of these things.

"Oh, no, no, no. I am not drunk enough to spill my secrets to you." Wally acted all offended and again tried to the information out of you and finally flagged down the waitress to get you more shots. She delivered quickly, placing four more shots in front of you.

The first went down easy, so the second should go down just as smoothly. But you never got to that. "I think you've had enough to drink," Mat's voice carried over all of the noise from the bar. Your head snapped in his direction and you saw him staring at you intensely.

"He speaks." You lifted the little glass in the air. "And who are you to tell me I've had enough to drink?"

"You couldn't even get that question out without slurring, so maybe that." His stare somehow got more intense the longer you stared back. It might have something to with the fact that you crept the shot glass closer and closer to your lips.

"You don't like me. And I don't listen to guys who don't like me." You closed your eyes and took the shot. "Anymore."

"And there it is. Boyfriend?" Wally got your attention again and slightly pushed him.

"I don't wanna talk about him." You pouted and while Wally grinned victoriously, the other guys went back to their own conversation. A few moments passed, where you started to fast track through your memories of your relationship. The good and bad ones, but the bad ones stood out. "Why are all guys such idiots?"

All six of the guys turned their head, looking at you with a playful smile. "Yep, I am suddenly extremely aware that I am sitting at a table with just guys. Excuse me."

You stumbled through the bar to the bathroom, your head was spinning like crazy, not just because of the alcohol but also because despite how your ex-boyfriend mistreated you these past few years, it was still a loss you felt deeply. He was an ass, but you loved him and that didn't just go away in a night. You had no idea how long you stood in the bathroom, trying not to fall over but also gossiping with a few girls that found you in the bathroom with whom you had now become friends with.

A loud knock and call of your name disrupted the rather nasty conversation about your ex-boyfriend. You slowly opened the door to reveal Mat standing there with a glass of water. "You ok?"

"Why do you care, Mathew?!"

"Oh my god, are you the cheating boyfriend? She told us how cruel you are so get the hell out of here! You don't deserve her!," the blonde girl, whose name you'd unfortunately already forgotten and who was one of the sweet girls listening to your little rant, pushed herself through the door and in between the two of you.

"What?," Mat said perplexed looking at you for help.

"No, that's just Mat. What do you want?"

"You've been in here for a while. Thought you might need some water."

"No, thanks." You turned away, walking deeper into the bathroom to sit on the little couch. Your head started spinning again. Why was he being nice to you?

"Here." When you looked up, the girls were gone and only Mat stood in the bathroom handing over that glass of water that looked absolutely delicious. You crossed your arms, pouting, to which he rolled his eyes and placed the glass on the counter. "He cheated? Don't tell me you're still with him?"

"No! I might have stayed with him longer than I should have, but I do have some self respect. And, again, why do you care?"

"Jesus Christ, (y/n), why the hell do you think I don't care?," he shouted at you to which you let out a loud chuckle.

"Are you kidding? You hate me. Fine. I don't care." You did. "But don't come in here pretending to care and make a fool out of me."

"What are you talking about?" You scoffed, jumping to your feet, the alcohol giving you the courage.

"What am I talking about? Are you kidding? You never talk to me. You never even look at me. You stop joking around when I'm in the same room. You're visibly in pain when I have to take some pictures and videos of you. I don't know what I ever do to you, but whatever. I don't care anymore. Clearly it's your problem."

He sighed, then took a deep breath. Still never looking directly at you. "See, you're not even looking at me now! So get out. Have a laugh about my little break down in here but leave me alone!"

"I don't hate you," he simply said, making you even more angry. He was so insufferable. Always brooding, giving you dirty looks and now he says he doesn't hate you? That's exactly what you told him, listing every time he made you feel small and unliked by him.

"From day one! I walked in, thinking this was going to be the best job ever and yes it is! But the one guy I actually wanted to like me turned out the best the biggest asshole. But that's not what everyone else says about you, so why are you so mean to me? You're not like this with the rest of the social team, so it must be me! What did I do to you? Why is it just me?," you continued to now yell at him. But he stayed silent. He was on edge though, itching to tell you but fighting to hold back whatever he wanted to say. "You know what? I have had too much to drink to have this conversation right now."

"No you didn't," he replied, pressing his lips together.

"What? Were you not there starring daggers into me while I took like six shots with Wally?"

"I had the bartender switch to water. Half the time you were drinking water. Not counting your Long Island iced tea, you maybe two shots." Hm. Maybe that's why you didn't feel as drunk as you normally would be after that many shots. Your surprised faced actually made him chuckle for a split second. "Yeah. Wally didn't notice either. On that, why the fuck were you taking shots with Wally?"

"Because he offered. And he likes me. And I like him." He looked like you just stabbed a knife in his heart. "Why? You jealous?"

He didn't answer and your heart skipped a beat.

"Why'd you do it?," you asked quietly, concerning the fact that he had made the bartender switch to water.

"Why do you ask so many questions?"

"Maybe if you would answer one once in a while I would have so many! So why did you do it? Why are you jealous?" Silence. Again. And you started to get annoyed again. "God, Mathew would you just answer the damn question! You are such a difficult person. Why did you-"

"Because I like you!," he yelled back, shutting you up.

"W-what?," you asked, very confused. "That doesn't even make sense."

"I know." At least he admitted it. His face grew soft and he closed his eyes for a second. "Let's go, I'll walk you back to the hotel."

"No! I'm not going anywhere with you," you protested, crossing your arms again. He rolled his eyes.

"Come on."

"No. Not before you explain to me why the hell you would say you like me when these past few months clearly state otherwise."

"I-." But he wasn't able to say more than that.

"Yeah, that's what I thought." Disappoint you brushed past him heading for the door, but before you could make it, his hand grabbed you by the arm, spinning you to face him. His large hands grabbed you by the sides of your face and pulled you into him until your lips met.

The act caught you off guard so it took a couple of seconds to react, but when you did you practically melted in his touch. All the pain you had felt from your breakup suddenly vanished and only warm fuzzy feelings remained. His lips were so soft and warm, you wanted to explore them further. He must have felt the same way as he began to open his mouth with a sigh. His tongue brushed over your lips and elicited a small whimpering from you in response. You quickly became addicted to his touch and lifted your own hands to feel him.

"Holy shit." You both ripped apart turning to the familiar voice. The bathroom door was open and in the frame stood Ryan who was desperately trying not to laugh. "Sorry." But just as quickly as he appeared, he disappeared again.

Stunned at what just happened, not only the kiss but also that you'd been caught, you stood in that bathroom silently. Your brain went 100 mph, but to your surprise after the eventful day you had, the only thing in your mind was that kiss.

Mat broke the silence first. "Will you let me walk you back now?"

You only managed to nod and let Mat guide you out of that bathroom. He went to go talk to the guys quickly, letting them know that you'd be leaving. You were too embarrassed to face the other, knowing that Ryan probably told them what he saw, so you awkwardly stood by the exit until Mat came back to quickly escort you outside.

"Your purse."

"Oh." You accepted it, hanging it over your shoulder. You didn't even realize you forgot it. "Thank you."

The short walk back to the hotel was silent, even the elevator ride up to your floor and up until you reached your room. "Thanks for walking me back. Good night."

You started closing the door, but Mat interrupted. "I don't hate you."

"Okay."

He chuckled. "That's it? No millions of questions?"

"You're confusing me. And I'm tired. It's late? I don't even-"

"It's 11:30," he answered your thought looking at his watch.

"Oh. What? That's it?"

He chuckled again. "Yeah you were drinking at lightning speed."

"Well, I was trying to forget a certain someone."

"I'm sorry," he said. "Sorry that he cheated on you. You don't deserve that."

You tried to smile as a thank you, but it turned out very sad. Mat's hand reached out to brush some hair out of your face and your heart clenched at that gesture. "Did it work?"

"What?"

"Forgetting him?"

"The alcohol? No." It was definitely not the alcohol that helped you forget him, but the person standing in front of you. You thought he understood what he meant when his hand came up again to brush that same strand of hair out of your face again, but lingered slowly creeping back to the same place it was nested when you kissed at the bar.

"Want some help?" He suddenly stood very close to you. In the last few minutes he had entered your room enough to push you in and have the door close behind the two of you. And you hadn't even realized. You only had eyes for him. Or his eyes, which sparkled a desire full green. The tension that had been building ever since your fight at the bar almost became unbearable, which is probably what gave him the confidence to ask the question and for you to reply as you did. "Will you let me help you forget that jerk?"

You took the last step needed to stand flush against him and within a second your lips were on his. This kiss may have started out as passionately as the one at the bar but it quickly grew into something hotter.

Mat pushed you further into the room until you stumbled into the dresser onto which he lifted you with ease. You legs wrapped around his hips tightly so he had no room to escape, not that he had any plans to do so as his tongue licked into your mouth. You couldn't hold back a moan as Mat devoured your mouth like he couldn't get enough of you, your fingers digging into his soft brown hair.

You kissed for endless minutes, but when Mat eventually pulled away, your chest heaved, lungs pulling in much-needed oxygen. He breathed harshly, his mouth not retreating too far so you could feel him breathing against your lips. He nibbled on your lower lip, the feel of his teeth sinking into your swollen flesh making you moan softly. "Such pretty sounds," he mumbled in between teasing bites. "All for me?"

"Mhm," you whimpered, nudging your lips closer to his, desperate for his touch. He chuckled, but couldn't help but kiss you back, him too needy to feel this passion again.

More kisses, moans, and whimpers passed until you slowly inched your hips to the edge of the dresser until you finally met his. A deep groan rumbled through Mat's body upon contact and with his big hands he placed on your ass he pulled you even closer, rubbing his growing bulge against your quickly heating center. The layer of both of your jeans got in the way of the best possible friction and both of you realized that the clothes issue needed to be solved as fast as possible.

His mouth broke from yours to explore your jawline and neck. Just as your hands moved from his hair to open up his jeans, one of his hands moved to pull you v-neck down one shoulder, exposing more skin. Small moans climbed up your throat as his tongue started nibbling and licking your skin. "Mat," his name was barely a whisper, but he heard it and picked up on the plea to speed things up. He stepped away just enough so you could comfortably take off your sweater and bra in which time he pulled his pants down.

You didn't have a lot of time to react to the sight of his erect cock straining his underwear that already looked too tight from his thick thighs before Mat stepped back into you capturing your lips for another intoxicating kiss. You arched your back when his grabby hands got ahold of your breast, massaging it and rubbing your nipple between his fingers.

"Do you feel what you're doing to me? How could you ever think I hated you?," he asked out of breath as he continued to rub his hard cock over your center.

"Well, there is the time you-"

"Let's not get into this now, eh?" You laughed, but agreed since what he was doing to you felt way too good to stop. "But let's get you out of the pants and onto this extremely comfortable bed."

With that, he lifted you in the air walking you over to the bed and throwing you onto the mattress. Before dropping to his knees with a mischievous grin, he tore his sweater off then got to work on tearing your jeans off as well.

"God, I have been waiting to get my hands on you since the moment you first looked at me," he groaned as if he couldn't believe this moment was real.

"Then why-"

"Shush, I wasn't being mean to you," he interrupted.

"I was going to say, then why are you talking so long to take me?" The right corner of his lips curled up and his eyes darkened before finally also taking your panties off and grabbing you by your ass pulling you to the edge of the bed.

"Oh, honey, you're so wet" Mat rumbled, his fingers exploring your drenched folds, spreading you open for him while you trembled. "And who are you dripping for?"

"You." The word only a whisper.

"No one else on your mind?"

"No," you moaned bucking your hips into his touch. "Just you."

"That's right." He finally circled your clit, dragging a strangled moan from your mouth, before spanking the little bundle of nerves, making you jerk and cry out. "So sensitive and responsive," he murmured. "I've dreamed about your pussy—and it's even better than I imagined," he confessed distractedly before ducking down, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking until you were squirming beneath him so badly, he had to pin you down to the bed.

Pleasure washed through you in waves so overwhelming, your hands grabbed Mat's soft hair to keep yourself steady. Your whole body quaked, your hips bucking up against his face while he sucked your clit into his mouth, his tongue teasing the tip of it until you felt like you were going to shatter apart. But he wouldn't let you come so fast and continued teasing you. Mat licked at your pussy, his tongue digging into the depths of your hole as far as he could go, before using the tip of his tongue to tease your clit.

"Oh, god! Mathew," you moans grew louder at the sounds of him eating you out, something you ex never liked to do (not that you were thinking about him at all), and the thoughts of how hopefully he'd be fucking you numb in just a few minutes. If he was that good at foreplay, how good was he at the actual fucking part?

Just when you thought he couldn't get any better, he ripped his head out of your grasp and lightly slapped your clit, making you cry out. "So sweet," he mumbled, admiring your pussy again after having a taste. His fingers explored the sensitive tissue again before sinking one and then another finger into you. You moaned and squirmed, grabbing the sheets for some support.

"That's it. I can feel you squeezing me, you're close, eh?" You could only hum in response, still squirming beneath his touch. "Then come for me, honey."

Mat's fingers worked in and out of your hole slowly, dragging against your sensitive walls like he was reveling in how tight you were. His tongue brushed against your clit, making you moan and whine, the pleasure he offered so exquisite, you felt certain you were going to come soon. When his fingers pressed against that spot inside you, you abruptly screamed as you finally came. Your hands clutched the sheets then captured his hair again as you bucked your hips up violently against his face, his mouth never relenting even as your entire world shattered around you. His kept fucking you with his fingers, his mouth sucking on your puffy clit as pleasure coursed through you in wave after overwhelming wave. Your legs shook on either side of his head, the rest of your body trembling while Mat worked you through your orgasm.

Then, when the pleasure began to subside, Mat didn't relent. His fingers were still plunging in and out of your pussy while he licked furiously at your sensitive clit. You squirmed, whining at the overstimulation, but he only raised his head for a moment to stare up your body at you.

"One more," he rasped, pressing a kiss to your clit. "Gimme another one, honey," he said, greedy hunger in his voice. Then he spoke no more because his mouth was busy eating you out like a starved man. When he added a third finger to your cunt, fucking you harder with his fingers curled inside you, pressing against that spot, you felt the tension coiling inside you again. Mat was relentless, his tongue lashing against your clit, and it wasn't long before you came again.

If you'd thought your body had trembled and shook through your first release, it was nothing compared to the quaking shudders of your second orgasm. You screamed your throat raw at the overwhelming pleasure consuming your body and mind, and all you could do was hold onto his head and ride it out with him.

When you finally started to come down, you saw him licking your arousal from his fingers, his green eyes heated when he caught you staring at him. He smirked at your slumped, limp body and began to rise. He climbed on top of the mattress, pulling up with him, so your entire body now lay next to him.

"Gimme a minute," you huffed, still catching your breath, to which he chuckled.

"Take your time." With one hand under his head, he grinned at the ceiling. What he was saying earlier was the truth. He did like you and cared for you. He pinned for you and lusted after you. He just couldn't express that in the workplace and that somehow turned into passive aggressiveness. But he would apologize for that later. For now, he was just happy that after months of fantasizing you were actually lying in bed next to him.

"Thank you," you finally said waving your hand around. "For that."

Another laugh, one that made your heart skip a beat, left his mouth. "You sound like it was your first time being eaten out. And you're welcome."

When you didn't answer, only cringed, he sat himself up on his elbow looking down at you. You were strangely comfortable with being naked around him. With past boyfriends or hookups, you always quickly found something to cover up with. "How long were you with this jerk?"

"A few years."

"And he never once went down on you?" His perplexed face suddenly made you feel ashamed. Not about yourself but that you kept up with your ex for so long.

"Not never. He just didn't like doing it. And I haven't enjoyed it with others either so it wasn't a big deal," you admitted, though after what you just went through, you might have some reevaluating to do.

"Jesus Christ, (y/n)! You wasted your time with him. He should have been at your feet, worshipping you, thanking whatever god he believes in that you even looked at him let alone touch him. You especially deserve so much better." Your heart clenched and that fuzzy warm feeling in your belly returned. Since you had no idea how to respond, you kissed him. First softly, almost hesitant, but that feeling only grew stronger and within a few minutes you had pushed him back into the mattress and climbed on top of him.

You moaned into Mat's mouth, kissing him harder, your drenched center settling over the bulge in his pants. Your breath hitched in your throat and Mat took the opportunity to nip at your lower lip, making you moan again before you began rocking against his hardness. Renewed arousal flooded through your body, your skin heating while you kissed him until it became too much and you had to wrench your lips away from the handsome hockey player so you could gasp for air.

"Mathew," you cried softly, his name falling from your mouth in a whispered plea while your hips kept grinding down on his cock. He felt so big and thick beneath you and you didn't know what you wanted more, to keep grinding down against him or feel him fill you up.

Mat pressed his smile against your jaw, teasing your skin with kisses and little nips of his teeth, making you gasp and moan and clench down around nothing while you worked your pussy against his bulge.

"My mouth not enough for you, honey?" he rumbled teasingly in your ear, his hands sliding down your sides. He grabbed your ass with his big hands, kneading your soft flesh while helping you rock against him, dragging more moans from you. "Do you need my cock?"

"Yes, yes, please," you begged in a whining voice. Your pulse was thrumming beneath your skin and throbbing in your clit. Your hands pressed into the mattress next to his head and you used your grip as leverage to grind down harder on his bulge, pressing your clit against the fabric of his boxers until you were a whimpering mess. "Need it, please!"

"What do you need?," he whispered roughly.

"Your cock."

"Say my name. Who's making you feel like this?" His voice was rough in your ear sending more shivers down your body and directly to your clit.

"Mathew. You, Mat. Please, I need you."

His hands on your ass moved quickly to lift you to your knees just high enough so he could wiggle out of his underwear.

"Condom?," you whispered quickly before anything further progressed. His head dropped back in agony before he cursed. "Fuck."

Your head dropped to his chest, spinning as you considered the sides of the argument. "Sorry, I didn't actually plan on anything happening anytime soon."

"It's okay," you whispered, then kissed your way up his neck to his lips. "It's ok, we don't need one. I'm clean and on the pill."

"Me too. You sure?," he asked breathlessly in between more intoxicating kisses. "We don't need to do anything tonight."

"No, please, Mathew," you begged, lowering your hips onto his cock, sliding up and down his length. "I need you, please."

"Fuck! I would never say no to you, honey." Mat's gaze darkened before your eyes, a sound rumbling deep in his chest almost like a possessive growl. Then he was diving forward, capturing your lips in a searing kiss while his hands went back to your ass. He used his arm around your back to lower you down until the tip of his cock brushed against your dripping folds. "I'm gonna fuck your sweet pussy bare," he promised, bullying your clit with his tip until you were moaning and squirming on top of him. "I'm gonna fill you up with my come until it's dripping down your thighs."

Words escaped you, so you nodded your head, which felt light and fuzzy with how aroused you were. Your hands braced on Mat's shoulders and you stared deep into his eyes as he guided you to start sinking down on his cock. You gasped when you felt the head of his cock press inside your tight hole. You moaned when he was buried all the way inside of you, loving the feeling of his thick cock splitting you open, stretching out your little pussy. It was nearly overwhelming, just how much you had to stretch to accommodate him, but you enjoyed it too much to stop or protest. "So big," was all you could mumble, your lashes fluttering as you tried to keep holding his gaze through the feeling of his hardness stretching your inner walls.

Mat rumbled a pleased sound in his chest. "Ya like it, honey?" he asked, his lips curling in a devilish smirk that made you want to kiss his mouth hard. "Like feeling my big, fat cock splitting open your tight cunt?"

"Oh god, oh god," you mumbled, moaning while you slid down more of his length before lifting up and pressing down even further. "Feels so good—s'good, Mat," you muttered, still holding his gaze even as your eyes threatened to close from the overwhelming pleasure.

The moment felt too intimate to cut off the connection of your held gaze, so you stared into Mat's eyes as you worked yourself up and down his shaft, taking him impossibly deeper.

"F-fuck, oh fuck," Mat groaned, finally breaking eye contact to bury his face against your chest, like he was overwhelmed by the feeling of being buried inside you. His breath was hot against your breasts as he sucked in deep gulps of air, breathing in your scent while his hands gripped your hips so hard, you thought he might leave fingertip-shaped bruises on your hips—not that you minded. You shivered and clenched around his stiff cock, which only made him grunt in pleasure. "Feel so fucking good, honey," he rumbled, his voice muffled where it was pressed to your sternum. "So warm and tight and fucking perfect around my cock."

"Mhmm," you murmured, rocking your hips in small movements, feeling his cock drag against your sensitive inner walls. You were pressed so close together, you felt a shudder pass through Mat's body and continue through yours. It wasn't long before you were both writhing together, reveling in the feel of each other. "Feel so full—so full of your big cock, Mat," you said in a breathy whisper. You raked your nails through his hair, as he held you to your chest as your hips moved against his tiny thrusts.

"That's right, full of me," he mumbled possessively, nipping at your neck, moving back down to your breasts. He kissed your soft mounds while you rocked on top of him, his hands bringing you down harder and harder on his cock. Steve sucked on your nipple, lapping at the tight peak before giving the same attention to the other. "You feel better than I ever dreamed, honey," he rasped, looking up and catching your eye, depthless emotion filling his green eyes.

Shy heat filled your face and you smiled, warm pleasure curling through your limbs and pulsing insistently between your thighs. Your inner walls clenched down around Mat's cock, like your body was possessive of the feeling of him inside you and never wanted to let him go.

"I'm sorry," he whispered against your ear, pressing small wet kissed along your jaw. "Sorry I've been a bit of a jerk."

"So you admit it?" Your response sped up his thrusts to which you let out a surprised squeak which turned into a string of moans.

"Why don't you accept my apology for now and let me fuck you mindless like you deserve and we can talk about the rest later." His voice turned rough and possessive again, one you already loved as you pussy clamped down on his cock, so you nodded.

In a quick maneuver, Mat had turned the two of you around, lifting one of your legs. "Good girl."

He didn't give you a chance to react before he mercilessly started pounding into your sweet flesh. It was better than you ever could've imagined, the feeling of his hot, hard cock sinking into your tight cunt. His hips were smacking your thighs, his balls slapping against your ass with every thrust as he fucked you. You reveled in the feel of him, your arms and legs wrapped around him and dragging him deeper into the cradle of your body.

Mat's face hovered above you and you could see the way it was contorted with pleasure. The way he was fucking you—so possessively, you knew he was serious when he'd told you he had liked you all along. "Fuck," he choked out the whispered curse, pressing his forehead to yours. "Your pussy feels so fucking good gripping my cock."

You tilted your head up for a kiss, pressing your lips to his as you pulled him closer with your legs, rocking up against him. "More, please—need you, need more," you begged against his mouth, your breaths mingling until you didn't know where you ended and he began.

Giving you what you asked for, Mat pulled his hips back, dragging his cock along every sensitive inch of your cunt, before slamming back inside. His breathing was harsh in your ear as he let out stuttering moans, almost drowning out the sounds of his hips smacking against yours, his balls hitting your ass. "So good, so good, honey, so fucking good," he chanted against your check, his breath hot on your face.

Your face pressed into his neck, lips sucking on his skin until you knew you were going to leave marks, too far gone to care as your tongue darted out to taste him and soothe him. Your legs locked around his waist, your feet hooking behind his thighs so you could draw him deeper until he was fully seated in your cunt and he couldn't pull out more than an inch.

"Oh god, that's it. I'm so close," you mumbled as his thrust slowed but doubled in strength. Words escaped you, your lips forgetting how to do anything but kiss and moan and whimper and whine for Mat. Your head felt hazy, however not from the alcohol from earlier, but on Mat's cock and the dirty words pouring from his mouth.

"Yes, need you to come for me, honey. Need to feel you come on my cock," he muttered, picking up the pace of his slow grinding until he was rutting into you as much as your legs would let him. "Fuck, I can't stop, baby, 'm gonna come." He grunted and groaned, the sounds of his pleasure and his words filling the truck cab. "Come on my cock, baby," Mat rasped as he pounded his cock deep in your hole, grinding his pubic bone against your clit with every thrust, sending you careening toward the edge.

The desperation in Mat's voice and the way his cock pummeled a spot deep in your pussy that had your back arching into him, grinding your clit on him, pushed you over the edge. Your nails dug into his back, desperate to be anchored to him as it felt like you were free-falling through pleasure. Pressing your face into his neck, you muffled a scream, sobbing your release as your cunt rhythmically clamped down hard on his cock.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, that's it baby, that's a good girl," Mat praised, rutting into you harder, fucking you through your orgasm as he chased his own.

His fingers dug into your soft flesh so hard you were sure he'd leave bruises and that thought only sent more warmth curling through you, joining the aftershocks of your orgasm. "Please," you begged, your mouth finally remembering how to form words. "Come in me," you whined, squirming beneath him.

"Fuck—yes," he grunted, thrusting hard and pinning you down onto the mattress with his hips. "Take it, honey, take my come," he bit out through gritted teeth as you felt him start to come deep in your pussy. You moaned when you felt his cock twitch inside you, his come filling your warm hole. He panted, as he thrust a few more times, shallowly, until he was spent. Mat collapsed on top of you while you reveled in the feel of his come coating inside you. "So good for me, baby," he praised, turning his head enough to kiss your cheek.

Your arms and legs felt heavy and loose as your full body relaxed, drifting in the aftermath of a mind-blowing orgasm, feeling sated and happy. Running your fingers through Mat's hair, you hummed in happiness. Unable to stop yourself, you planted little kisses on his neck. He made a contented sound in his chest in response, his thumb sweeping over the back of your hand.

He still stayed buried deep inside you, brushing his lips over your face, your neck and collarbones. You enjoyed it, almost more than what you just did, breathing him in, staying in your fantasy just a little bit longer.

You suddenly snapped back to reality, realizing that while he had just been very sweat and caring, he did behave like a jerk these last few months. You pushed him off of you, pretending you didn't feel the extreme emptiness when his cock slipped out of you. "Get off me."

Mat laughed, sitting up on his elbows as he watched you scramble to find a shirt to cover up with. "Oh, come on, honey. Can't we enjoy this moment?"

"One phenomenal orgasm does just erase these last few months and prove that you actually never hated me," you explained in a snippy tone, blushing when you realized you admitted how good he'd made you feel.

"I'm pretty sure I made you come three times." You rolled your eyes, throwing his sweater at him before finally reaching your sweater and pulling it over your head. "Should I prove it to you again?"

Let's just say that that night and many other nights he continued to prove to you over and over again that he did in fact like you. Maybe even more than like.

#mat barzal #mathew barzal #mat barzal smut #nhl smut #hockey smut #smut #nhl fics #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #hockey fics #new york islanders

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hugshughes · 3 months

Text

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 - 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐍 𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐒

𝐙𝐄𝐑𝐎 - 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

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

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 - 𝐘/𝐧 𝐘/𝐥/𝐧'𝐬 𝐕𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐨.

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

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

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

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐭. 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰!

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

Artists / Y/n Y/l/n

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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mendeshoney · 2 years

Text

you know my weakness is you

author's note: well, you know, every now and then I remember I can write and Mat is the only player I apparently write about anymore, so here we are! this is I think my third (??? yikes) story I've written with an actual FMC character.

this character is a WOC and is plus sized bc...well, that's what I know as a person and it's kinda time I start actually trying to write like it. so let's just pretend there's a world where POC plus sized hockey wags can exist, mkay? i'm also manipulating some of the other wags of the team, so, that is also happening.

tags/warnings in no particular order: 18+, slight angst, enemies to lovers, original female character, WOC character, consensual unprotected sex, spit play, lots of kissing, more unprotected sex

word count: ~ 11,727k

Bruises.

So many bruises.

There were bruises on Summer’s arms and legs. Another on her cheek. All purple and splotchy and not at all good. They looked ugly and marred her brown skin in an unpleasant way that made his stomach churn.

Mat continued to take catalog - scrapes on her knees and elbows, and one on the bit of collarbone he could see before the rest disappeared beneath her white tank top. There was a cut on her head that was covered with a thin bandage, and he could see how part of it ran past her hairline and into her mess of curls. The final injury he clocked that made his composure snap was the cut on her plump bottom lip that made his blood run cold.

What the fuck.

“What the hell happened to you?” Mat demanded.

He didn’t realize he’d said it out loud, or that it came out so harshly until Summer stopped speaking mid-sentence. His friends’ heads swiveled toward him comically, all of them wearing matching “what the fuck” looks at the level of venom in each syllable.

Summer’s usual smile that she had been wearing as she was speaking had diminished, barely ghosting her lips now, and Mat internally kicked himself as the light that came with it left her eyes slowly. That look, the slightly kicked-puppy one he was so used to her looking at him with, stirred up an ache inside of him this time.

“She was just telling us about it, asshole.” Sydney spit, Marty frowning slightly at him from where he was wrapped around his wife.

“I got into an ATV accident.” Summer told him softly, a little slowly as well, and Mat watched the way her lips formed the words, watching how it hurt her a little to speak them with her damaged lip. “I’m okay,” She reassured him quickly. “It looks worse than it is.”

His hands curl into fists at his sides. “How?” He demanded again.

Mat remembers, briefly, that when he last spoke to Tito, his best friend had mentioned how Summer and that piece of shit boyfriend of hers were going ATV riding with his family. Clearly, clearly, he had to have been at fault, right?

“We flipped over.” Summer says, confirming his suspicions, and seemingly everyone else’s, because she flinches, back tracking a little. “It was an accident.”

Mat scoffs, and Summer’s brown eyes narrow at him. He shakes his head, and before he can say anything else, Anders clears his throat.

“She’s fine.” He echoes.

Figures. Mat thinks, scowling. Of course Anders would come to her rescue.

Summer Maldonado was the younger sister to Sabrina Maldonado, the first Filipino Miss USA and his team captain’s fiance. Sabrina had been the Islanders’ in-arena host up until she began dating Anders in his second season with the team. She’d been everyone’s favorite significant other, as perfect in real life as she was on the pageant stage, and it wasn’t until Summer was legal and Sabrina had deemed Anders’ teammates as mildly gentlemanly that she deemed it okay to start bringing Summer around.

That of course, had been Mat’s rookie year. And for some reason, a reason he can’t quite understand, even though he’d taken one look at Summer that first day and deemed her the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen in his life - caramel skin he imagined tasted as good as it looked, curves that he’d only hoped in his wildest fantasies he’d be able to map with his hands, long brown curly hair he wanted to feel between his fingers, bury his nose in - she’d hated him.

So he hated her too.

And had every day since.

Except today. Especially not today. Not when she showed up looking like she fought in the main event pay per view of a UFC title bout the night before.

How could he hate her when he wanted to understand how someone could allow her to walk away with all this damage to her precious body? A body he still hoped to worship someday, just once, if he got the chance.

Mat walks away, decides he can’t look at Summer or the god awful damage to her any longer. It makes him feel sick inside, and so he marches into Anders’ kitchen, flings open the fridge with way more force than necessary, and grabs the neck of a beer bottle so tight he pictures it’s the neck of Summer’s shitbag of a boyfriend.

He pops the cap off with a bottle opener and takes a hefty swig, leaning against the kitchen counter and shutting his eyes as he tilts his head up to face the ceiling.

Mat hears Anders’ sigh as he enters the kitchen, closing the sliding door behind him and joining Mat as he brooded.

“Don’t give her anymore shit about it, understand?” Anders warns, using his stupid captainly voice that he knows will get Mat under heel.

“Did that dickbag do it?” Mat counters.

“He was there, yes. He was driving the ATV when it flipped, but it was an accident. Sabrina’s already laid into Summer for it.”

At that, Mat’s eyes fly open, and Anders visibly winces. “Why?”

That was definitely a red flag. If it was an accident as everyone had been saying, what was there for Sabrina to be mad about?

Anders knew he fucked up, but instead of admit it, he tried to recover. “Safety.”

“Bullshit.” Mat spit. The bruises on Summer’s skin flashed in his mind, and Mat was certain he’d never be able to get the image out of his brain for the rest of his life. “What did Will do?”

He hated using that idiot’s name.

Anders seemed to hesitate, but at Mat’s fiery gaze, he caved. “He dropped her off at the hospital but he didn’t stick around. Sabrina had to go pick her up from the ER last night.”

Alone.

Mat’s chest twisted into something wicked. That dead fuck had left Summer alone in the ER after his idiocy, and Summer had the audacity to play it off like…like…

There was something hot and flaming in his veins that gave him half a mind to storm back outside and yell at Summer until she called her sorry excuse of a boyfriend to dump his ass. But as quick as his anger came, Mat forced it away.

What did he care?

She didn’t even like him. He wasn’t supposed to like her.

He wanted to say a thousand different things to Anders, but didn’t. He stood there, under the scrutiny of his captain’s gaze a little longer, and all he could say was “Whatever.”

Summer remembers the day she met Mat.

She remembers how the team had showed up at Anders and Sabrina’s house, how she’d been in Sabrina’s office submitting her final paper for the fall semester of her freshman year at Columbia, how she’d come out of the office at the sound of her name from her sister, and sauntered into the kitchen with a nervous yet shy smile on her face.

There’d only been about four of them, the first group to arrive, and Sabrina hoped that her casual outfit of blue jeans and a white tank top hadn’t been as underdressed as she feared when she spotted him.

Mathew Barzal. The new kid to the team, and according to what she’d been hearing from Islanders fans, the second coming of Jesus to the team. He’d been as handsome as she’d expected, as good looking as the girls at school had said, and Summer was shocked when she found herself under the intensity of his gaze as it ran over her body.

It felt like he’d taken his sweet time when it had maybe only been ten seconds max. Her stomach had churned uncomfortably anyway as he took in his fill, and while Summer had been working on her confidence, had been working on learning to love herself as she was, she suddenly didn’t like how he made her feel the opposite. A guy as gorgeous as that? What else could he be doing when looking at a girl like her except judging? Something ugly reared its head within her, made her feel terrible without reason, so when his eyes finally found hers, she looked away from him dismissively, drawing a line in the sand.

“They’re nice, but they’re still boys.” Sabrina had told her before they had arrived. “Just don’t let them get to you if they start to bother you.”

Summer took it to heart. Refusing to let Mat Barzal, or any man, get under her skin.

Mat scrolls through Instagram aimlessly, resting on Tito’s couch while he waits for him to get ready so they can go get dinner.

As he’s scrolling, he sees a picture Sabrina posted of her and her sister that’s been uploaded fifteen minutes ago.

It’s a picture from last Spring, he realizes, when he spots the little streak of baby pink hair Summer had under all of her layers. Summer’s hair is straight in the photo, and she’s wearing a long sleeve black dress that cuts off mid thigh, white heels, and she’s sitting next to Sabrina, who’s dressed similarly.

He zeroes in on Sabrina’s caption after getting his fill of Summer and her figure, heart pounding a little as he reads.

“Happy birthday Summer! Thankful to be your sister” Accompanied by a bunch of emojis stares at Mat, and his heart pounds once more.

He doesn’t really think about it when he clicks on the picture that’s tagged with Summer’s account, and clicks on it. The most recent picture is one of Summer from what looks like this morning.

She’s sitting up in her bed, dressed in a shirt that’s a few sizes too big, hair in a messy bun with some of those curls fallen out and framing her face. The clean and fresh look on her also slightly sleepy face has Mat taking in a slow breath, his eyes trying to commit everything to memory. Her eyes are closed as she smiles, one hand on her cheek bashfully, those beautiful, naturally plump, mauve pink lips stretching into a sleepy smile.

Damn her.

For all she got on his nerves, for all she irritated him, all the times she’d been a fucking pain in his ass, she still had to be the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

There’s a cake in the photo, resting on her bed in front of her, and balloons next to her bedside. He spots Sabrina’s purse off to the side, figuring she’d surprised Summer and taken the picture.

“Cheers to 24! Thank you to @sabimaldonao for the birthday surprise. Love you always!”

Mat finds himself commenting “happy birthday curly” and then pressing “Follow,” followed by the quickest exit out of Instagram ever, like he’s about to get caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Tito chooses that moment to decide he’s ready, and Mat screams like a little bitch when Tito says “Ready!”

It scares Tito, who yells in return, and then Mat chucks a couch pillow at him.

“Why did you throw that at me!”

“Why’d you sneak up on me!” Mat retorts, shooting up from the couch.

His palms are sweaty. Why were his palms sweaty?

Tito scowls at Mat. “Are you ready or not? I’m starving.”

Mat grumbles. “I’m not the one who took an hour to get ready, dickhead.”

As they head out to the bank of elevators, Mat pulls out his phone again, careful to expose the screen to Tito as he heads back into Instagram to see if Summer responded.

She didn’t. And she also didn’t follow him back yet.

It’s fine. Who cares? He reasons. It’s her birthday, you’re just being nice.

He checks again at least three times during dinner, and twice more after he heads home later that night.

Mat’s unreasonably irritated when there’s still nothing.

Who cares? He convinces himself. You don’t.

There were five years between Sabrina and Summer, and Summer felt the envy in each of them.

Never in a negative sense. And never because of Sabrina. Absolutely not.

Despite the childhood and teenage years (on both their parts) of them arguing and going through the typical sibling spats, Summer loved her sister more than anything in the world. She remembers being at Sabrina’s first pageant and thinking “my sister is prettier than all of these people.”

Sabrina had been a chubby child, but as she grew, she had shed all that weight through sports, extracurriculars, and was slim and beautiful and maintained the same weight and stature since she was sixteen.

Summer kept the baby fat as she grew, but not to Sabrina’s height, and while she felt puberty wasn’t completely unkind to her, it was clear puberty and her family genes favored Sabrina.

Her relatives showered Sabrina with praise. Always “Maganda ka.” You’re beautiful and “Wala kang kasing ganda!” No one’s prettier than you!

All Summer got was “Ang ganda ng ngiti mo.” You have such a beautiful smile.

Sabrina was everyone’s favorite. And that was okay, she was Summer’s favorite too.

Sabrina wasn’t oblivious or naive, she knew Summer had a tough time, that whenever their Lolo or Lola offered Sabrina seconds at dinner, they denied Summer seconds in the same breath telling her, “You eat anymore and you’ll be as big as a house!” Sabrina had stuck up for Summer many times, but it never really stopped happening to her.

People loved Sabrina.

They only liked Summer.

So yeah. She had her issues. But she also had her older sister to look up to, idolize, reasonably envy, and confide in.

Sabrina and Anders had gotten engaged last year after Summer finished her Master’s degree. The engagement, which, in Summer’s opinion, had been long overdue, had been a spectacle in itself, and now Sabrina and Anders had finally agreed to sit down and start planning, and their wedding was scheduled to be at the end of the summer.

They’d been living in their house in Bayport since Anders all but begged Sabrina to after they’d been dating about two years, and when they did, Sabrina made Anders swear to her that at least one of their five massive bedrooms would always be reserved for Summer (even though Summer lived in Garden City, less than forty five minutes away.)

Summer agreed to come over every other Saturday this summer to assist Sabrina with planning, and had stayed true to her word, even if it meant seeing more of Anders’ teammates.

Or teammate, to be specific.

Especially not with his recent social media activity.

She’d been shocked to say the least at his happy birthday message. Shock transformed into suspicion when she saw he even followed her on Instagram.

She didn’t say anything back. Didn’t return the follow. Why would she? They weren’t actually friends anyway.

Except, he’d started interacting, or trying to interact, with her. She’d posted a story with a poll for her friends, and when he voted on it (in her favor, though he didn’t know that), she remembered how she’d scrunched her nose in distaste. She posted a picture of her mom’s dog, a mangy little Scottish Terrier she and Sabrina had named “Angus” as teenagers, who had chewed up her Roku remote while dog-sitting him for her parents for the weekend.

Mat had reacted to it with a laughing emoji, and that also went ignored.

She made the mistake of posting another story of the particularly gnarly bruise on her forearm as it was healing, with a text over the picture that read “last time I try to be a daredevil” and Mat had responded to the story with a “next time don’t put yourself in danger while in the presence of idiots.”

Mat grinded on her nerves every chance he got, it seemed, and his insistence on his presence would certainly not help her current predicament.

Even if he may have been right.

After her ATV accident and being left at the hospital, she’d confronted Will and demanded to know why he didn’t come to check on her, or why he hadn’t called or texted to see if she was okay.

Deep down, Summer knew the answer, knew he didn’t really give a shit about her like he said he did, she just needed to hear it from his mouth. True to form, he’d come up with excuse after excuse, and she’d had enough, calling it quits and telling him she never wanted to see him again.

Was she upset she almost wasted a year of her life with him? Yes.

Was she upset that he didn’t seem to care about her when she was hurt? Yes.

Was she upset that he didn’t reach out after their breakup with apologies and roses?

Also yes.

It didn’t make sense, logically, she knew that. She didn’t want to be with him, sure, but no one had ever really fought for her before, fought to keep her, fought to win her back. And maybe she wanted that, just once, maybe she wanted to be wanted, lusted after, fought for, desired.

A picture of Sabrina from her Miss USA crowning hung from the wall as Summer sat in the computer chair of Sabrina and Anders’ joint office. Next to it, a picture of Anders on one knee, proposing, and next to that, a picture of Anders on the ice.

She thought of their relationship, of how Anders had worked every day to be worthy of her older sister, and immediately stopped, trying to focus her attention on the screen in front of her instead.

There was no use getting lost in her feelings.

She tries to focus on the information in front of her, about custom invitations and designs and price points, when the front door to Sabrina’s house opens, and a loud “Anders!” rings out.

Summer groans, shouting out “He’s outside, dipshit!”

Moments later, Mat’s annoyingly handsome face came into view as his body filled the doorway. “Oh, it is you. Your little witch’s cave too hot? Had to come to big sis’s to get away from your steaming cauldron?”

“Can you even spell ‘cauldron,’ Mathew?” She says, keeping her eyes on the laptop.

“Why are you here?” He fires back.

“It’s my sister’s house.”

“It’s my captain’s house.”

“Pretty sure it’s still my sister’s house.”

“Don’t you have a boyfriend to get back to?”

Summer could feel her control snap. “Listen, you little shit, I-”

“Can you two at least try to get along for one day?”

Mat jumps a little at Sabrina’s voice, whirling around with a fright, while Summer just rolls her eyes.

“He came in unannounced and bothered me.” Summer mutters, clicking on an invitation pattern that matches Sabrina’s wedding theme.

Sabrina sighed, and motioned with her head toward the backyard. “Anders is outside, he’s waiting for you.”

Mat nods once, glances back at Summer with a scowl, then saunters off.

Finding his captain next to his exercise equipment in his backyard, Mat throws down his bag and plops onto a bench, glaring at Anders.

Anders rolls his eyes. “Can you at least try to be nice to her? She’s going through something, you know.”

Mat scoffs. He thinks of Summer’s healing bruises, some yellow, some still green, but at least the cut on her forehead had disappeared for the most part. He also thinks of the picture of her healing bruise on her arm she’d posted on her Instagram story the week before. He doesn’t think he noticed it just now.

“Yeah,” Mat says after a beat too long. “Well she’s healing up fine to me from the looks of it.”

Anders gives him a strange look, but waives it away, shoving weights at Mat. “Whatever, let’s get started.

Mat has half a mind to push back, ask Anders what he was about to say, but he levels him with that Captainly stare, and Mat shuts up, commencing his workout.

Drastic measures are being taken so Summer doesn't get too lost in her own heartbreak.

Well, not heartbreak, maybe lack of it.

She’d gone from wishing that Will had fought for her to actually being grateful that he hadn’t, then regretful that she didn’t actually feel any sorrow for leaving him behind.

Summer felt like she should be sad. But she wasn’t. And that somehow managed to make everything worse.

She feels like she’s pouting, so she keeps drinking in the hopes that none of her friends notice.

She especially keeps her eyes away from the scene near her that’s slowly awakening the little green monster inside, choosing to look around the club at literally anyone and anything else except Mat.

She goes so far as to make sure to volunteer herself anytime someone is going to the bathroom to tag along so nothing happens, and volunteer to go grab drinks with whoever is buying the next round.

It’s a lot, but she was getting away with it.

Or so she thought.

“What is up with you tonight?”

She narrows her eyes at Emma, because Emma already knows the answer, but is choosing to ask her in front of everyone anyway to draw their attention.

“Nothing.” Summer says earnestly, grabbing her margarita and taking a long sip from her straw.

“You are drinking a lot more tonight.” Tito offers, looking at the drink in her hand.

Summer frowns. “It’s a birthday party, isn’t that the point?”

Mat’s birthday party, to be specific. She doesn’t think she was explicitly invited, but didn’t protest when Sabrina picked her up and brought her to Tito and Emma’s to get ready together.

“Yeah, but you usually don’t party as hard. Everything okay?” Tito asks again. Emma’s staring a hole into the side of Summer’s face, and she ignores her.

Nodding, Summer takes another sip. “Fine.”

“Wouldn’t have anything to do with a boy would it?” Tito tries, the corner of his lips turning up into a smirk. Summer misses the glance he does between her and Mat, thinking instead that he’s talking about Will.

She shakes her head, pasting on a cordial smile. “Nope. No boy drama here.”

“Great!” Emma exclaims. She untangles herself from her fiance’s hold then exits the booth, grabs Summer’s drink and places it on the table before guiding Summer to the dance floor.

Only a few feet away, Mat dances with some leggy brunette, his hands on her waist, and Summer fights off a scowl, green, green, green creeping through her veins, and she shoves the feeling away.

Who gives a fuck what he’s doing? She questions herself before facing Emma.

“What are you doing?” She asks as Emma begins to dance.

“Helping you.” She supplies sweetly. “I didn’t convince you to wear this dress for nothing, Sum. C’mon, let’s dance and make him your stupid ex boyfriend regret that he exists.”

Caving, Summer starts to dance, swaying her hips along to the beat and eventually smiling at Emma for the distraction.

Okay, so maybe Emma gets to be right about this.

As self conscious as she was about the dress before, it’s clearly working, as guys start to approach from all sides as the song continues. They stay away from Emma, the big diamond on her left hand a clear “stay away,” but some try to get close to Summer.

One does - a tall, buff, and devilishly handsome one - and as he taps Summer’s shoulder, she can see Tito coming in to join Emma.

“Wanna dance?” He says, flashing a flirty smile, and Summer nods, placing her hand in his outstretched one.

He gives her a twirl, pressing her back against his front as he pulls her close, but not too close, just enough to toe the line, and they start to move together, his hands on her hips. He leans close, the deep timber in his voice saying “I’m Loren, what’s your name beautiful?”

“Summer,” she says easily. “Nice to meet you.”

Loren smiles, his blonde hair brushing her face a little as he pulls back. “The pleasure’s definitely mine.” She thinks she hears him say.

Out of the corner of her eye, as Tito and Emma dance together, she sees Emma’s kilowatt smile and thumbs up, and the tequila in Summer’s drink suddenly begins to run quickly through her veins, causing her to flash a wicked smile back at Emma.

Leaning her head back against Loren’s shoulder, she can feel the stray curls slipping from ponytail begin to stick to her face as she heats up from the inside, and rests her hands on top of his, following his lead. Song after song blends together as she sways in Loren’s hold, and as another one begins, he chuckles. “I could go all night long with you.”

Summer can feel flames creep up her cheeks and into her hairline, catching Loren’s drift in more ways than one. “I’d like to see you try.” She flirts back.

He bends lower, lips ghosting her cheek when he says “Let’s go grab a water.”

She nods, letting him take her hand in his as he pulls her toward the bar. She signals a thumbs up to Emma and then to Sabrina as they pass, letting them know she’s okay, and Sabrina nods once, but still narrows her eyes at Loren anyway, her protectiveness never wavering.

Summer is only slightly shocked when they bypass the bar altogether, and Loren crowds her into the hallway near the bathrooms. Loren presses her against the wall with his body, placing his arms against it on either side of her head before he dips down, lips brushing hers as he says “I’ve had my eyes on you all night.”

Heat pools in her belly, and she tilts her head up slightly. “Have you now?”

He nods, presses a soft kiss to her lips, testing the waters. “Been thinking about what you might taste like.”

“Well keep thinking.”

The angry voice has both Summer and Loren snapping their heads toward the start of the hallway, where Mat stands, hands balled into fists as he glowers at Loren.

Loren, seemingly undeterred, doesn’t back up out of Summer’s space. “Can we help you?”

Mat storms over, cutting between them and forcibly pushing Loren away. Loren’s got a couple of inches on Mat, but Mat’s definitely stronger. “I suggest you walk away.”

“Is she your girlfriend or something?” Loren asks, then smirks. “Doesn’t seem like she wants to be.”

“She won’t be yours, that’s for sure.” Mat spits.

Summer, indignant, steps forward, pulling Mat’s shoulder. She was getting really tired of this pissing contest, really fast.

“Mat, knock it off.” She demands. “Just go away.”

He turns to look at her then, and Summer takes a step back when she sees the fire in his eyes, all anger and hatred. “You seriously want to go home with this loser?”

“She doesn’t want to go home with you.” Loren pipes up, and that seems to snap the last bit of restraint Mat had, because the next thing Summer knows, Mat’s turning around as fast as lighting and punching Loren across the face. Loren stumbles back just a second, then charges forward, and Summer finds herself shouting Mat’s name, something sick making her stomach churn.

She’s not stupid enough to try to intervene between two people who are stronger and bigger than her, but she can’t let this continue, so she calls for Tito, calls for Anders, voice rough and desperate, and they appear with Marty in tow, which, Summer realizes, is bound to make the situation slightly worse.

Emma, Sabrina, and Sydney are there as well, pulling Summer down the hall with them and away as the men try to break up the scuffle.

“Are you okay?” Sabrina demands. “Did he hurt you?”

Summer’s eyebrows bunch in confusion. “What? No. Mat didn’t do anything.”

Sabrina frowns. “I meant that guy you were with.”

Duh. Summer thinks lamely. “Oh, no, he didn’t. He barely even kissed me, but it was mutual.”

Her older sister searches her face for…something, what, Summer isn’t sure, but she seems to find it, and nods, pushing her toward Emma and Sydney. “C’mon, let’s go.”

“What about the guys? Mat’s party? Don’t do this on my account. I’m fine, I swear.”

“We’re not,” Sydney reassures Summer, rubbing her arm gently as they pile into Sydney’s SUV parked near the curb. “We’ll finish the celebration somewhere else.”

“What about the guys?” She asks.

“They’ll take my car.” Sabrina says. “I gave Anders the key.”

Summer nods, but suddenly doesn’t feel like she’d be welcome at wherever that ‘somewhere else’ is, so she asks to go home instead.

The girls exchange worried looks, but agree, and they head toward Summer’s apartment instead.

Mat saunters over to where Summer stood in front of the island of the outdoor bar in Anders and Sabrina’s backyard. It was another night, another get together, and the warm air of the official start to the summer season wrapped everyone in a soft embrace.

He’d been meaning to approach Summer, meaning to apologize for his actions at the club with that punk. He didn’t feel he’d been unreasonable, but everyone else had reminded him that no matter his intentions, his actions said differently, and so, here he was.

And if the fact that Summer didn’t show up at Tito’s place when they all managed to reconvene said more than anything he felt his soul could bear.

Mat looked her over as she approached, taking full stock of her beauty. Her long curls in a ponytail secured with a scrunchie trailed down the open back of her red dress. From his perspective behind her as he approached, it had slightly puffy short sleeves, and crossed at the lower back, and the sight of her bare skin let him know she probably wasn’t wearing a bra.

Fuck.

He eyes the white strappy heels on her feet and suddenly felt the urgent need to know what they would feel like digging into his back.

Mat steels himself, and with a beer in one hand and a glass of wine in the other, he extends the glass of wine toward Summer with a mumbled “Truce” as he approaches.

She turns to look at him, one eyebrow raised at the glass. “I’m sorry?”

“Truce.” He repeats, a little louder. “I’m sorry for the other night.”

“The other night?” She echoes, and Mat tries not to scowl.

“Do I have to spell it out for you?” He says, then winces, placing both his beer and her glass of wine down on the countertop. “The other night at the club, when I punched that guy you were gonna hook up with.”

“Loren?” Summer asks, genuine shock in her voice.

Mat could feel the flames of anger lick at him from the inside, and he tried so desperately to push it down.

“I don’t care what his name is.” There was more venom in his voice than he’d wanted to be. But it was true, he didn’t. He didn’t care about or want to hear about any second rate guy you hung around.

Because it’s not you? The devil on his shoulder taunted.

Fuck off.

“I’m sorry for ruining your night.” He tries again. “I wasn’t trying to start anything. It was wrong of me, and I’m sorry.”

“Mat,” she says, soft. “If anything, I should be sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin your birthday.”

“You didn’t.” He promises, “I did by doing that. But you didn’t ruin anything. And I’m sorry I acted out.”

“Oh, well, thank you.”

Mat pauses. “So you forgive me? You don’t hate me?”

“I do.”

Mat stares at her, weighing her non answer of an answer. “You do?”

“I do,” she says, nodding, then clarifies with a wicked gleam. “Hate you.”

Mat sours, grabbing his beer and taking a large swing before putting it back down. “Right back at ya, princess.”

She rolls her eyes, then pauses, like she’s thinking. It’s another beat before she tells Mat, “I didn’t want to hook up with him, you know.”

His blood begins to boil again. “I don’t know, you were dancing on that punk like you didn’t have a boyfriend.”

“Because I don’t.” She says simply.

A record scratching screams in his head, and he rounds on her. “What?”

“I said, I don’t.”

“You don’t what?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend.”

When he just stares at her, trying to come to terms with what she just said, she rolls her eyes and takes a step back from him. “Oh for god's sake Mathew, I broke up with him. So shut the fuck up about it already.” She spits, turning on her heels and leaving him in the wake of her revelation.

His heart beat in his chest, something sick and wicked making him follow Summer into Anders’ house as she sauntered away ahead of him. At the sound of the sliding door closing behind him, he half expected Summer to turn around and look at him, but she didn’t, instead continuing to stalk toward the guest room down the hall.

Mat hurried his steps, catching up with her before grabbing her hand, turning her around and pushing her into the open hall closet, then shutting the door closed and locking it behind him. He flipped on the light, soul brightening at the sight of her beautiful face and then dimming at the frown on it.

“What the fuck, Mathew?” she spit.

“You broke up with him?” He demands.

She rolled her eyes, and Mat felt his palm aching to spank her ass for it. “Yes, that’s what I said. We broke up. Did you need further clarification? I figured all of your past failed relationships would-”

“When?” He cut her off, taking a step closer to her. Summer took one back, nearly backing into the shelf of extra linens behind her.

“Two weeks ago.” She deadpans, crossing her arms over her chest, inadvertently drawing his attention to them as her words sunk in.

Two weeks. Two weeks too long.

“Two weeks ago?” He echoes in disbelief.

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Her eyebrows raise at him in equal disbelief as she says “Why the fuck would I do that?”

“You know why.” He hisses.

Another roll of her eyes followed by an irritated sigh. “No, I don’t. Why don’t you spell it out for me?”

Her challenge hangs in the air, and he feels himself pause for one, two, three seconds before…

Fuck it.

“God damn you.” Mat swears, reaching under her dress, finding her hip, wrapping his fist around the lace fabric of her underwear there, and tugs.

He tugs once, strong and quick, and the flimsy thing snaps, and Summer lets out an indignant squeak as he pulls the ruined fabric from under her dress, sticking it in his pocket.

“Mat-” she says, and he surges forward to kiss her, to take her mouth and shut her up because if she said his name like that again he’d come before he was even inside her. His hands cup the sides of her face as he sucks her bottom lip into his mouth, gently running his tongue over it before letting it slip between his teeth and pulling. When she moans again, Mat nearly bursts at the seams.

“Gonna make you feel good.” He promises her, continuing to taste the berries on her lips as he let his hands slide up, let his hands go up to the scrunchie holding her beautiful curls in its ponytail and pulling, running his fingers through her hair as it cascades down, letting her scrunchie rest on his wrist.

The need for Summer built and built and built in his body, and all his control and restraint snapped as she moaned.

For all she got on his nerves, for all she irritated him, all the times she’d been a fucking pain in his ass, she still had to be the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

And she was finally under his touch.

Fucking finally.

He grips her hair at the base of her neck in his fist, uses it and pulls her head back so he can lick deeper into her insolent little mouth. He flips them as he goes, walking her backwards, pressing her into the locked door of the hall closet and covering her mouth with one of his hands, his other making its way back under her dress.

Mat parts her with his fingers, drawing her wetness as if it answered only to him - and he would make it answer to him - and she made this broken sound under his palm that had him resting his forehead against hers as he presses his body into her, and presses her further into the door.

“If you keep that shit up, making all those pretty noises, I’m not gonna last.” He breathes, removing his hand from her mouth only to kiss her again, to taste and swallow her moans as she made them now. He brought his now free hand down to her hip to keep her still, squeezing as the fingers against her pussy drew her wetness to her clit, where Mat began to rub gently.

“Do you want to come for me?” He asks, lips brushing against Summer’s as he speaks.

She nods, and he kisses her again, licking into her mouth, continuing to rub her in slow, firm circles.

“On my fingers?” Mat breathes. “Or on my cock?”

Before she can answer, he slips a finger inside, and feels his cock throb when it’s met with slick, tight, silken heat. She squeezes his finger as he begins to slowly pump, and with each push inside, it feels like her body’s trying to draw him in further, begging for more, more, please more.

He suddenly realizes with an awful sense of clarity that they won’t have enough time, enough privacy for him to be able to do everything he’d hoped to with her, and definitely not tonight. So he decides for them both, saying “My fingers, then,” when she doesn’t manage to answer him the more he curls his finger inside her.

Carefully, he adds another, feels her squeeze down and watches her eyes roll back in delight, a faint blush rising on her caramel skin. His hand that was on her hip comes out from under the skirt of her dress, only to play at the neckline of her dress, then tug it down, freeing her breasts, and Mat wastes no time in bending his head down and sucking a dusky nipple into his mouth, tongue running over her flesh greedily as he licked and lapped and sucked.

“Oh!” Summer cries out, her hands flying to his hair, gripping the strands between her fingers as her hips start to wind, riding his hand. He brings his thumb into the fray, rubbing circles as he fingers her, and at the squeeze of her cunt, he groans.

He switches to her other nipple, giving it the same attention as he murmured “Come for me, honey. Want you to come for me. Need it. Need you.”

“Yes!” Summer whines, breath coming out in short punches.

“Need you, need you, need you” he pleads against her lips, not afraid or caring that he was about two seconds away from basically begging.

Mat’s eyes flutter shut before he opens them again, deciding this moment was too good to pass up, that he’d waited too long for this to not look at Summer’s face as she came.

His eyes trailed up and his cock throbbed again.

Her eyes are screwed shut, tears trailing those beautiful cheeks as her head is thrown back, hair falling in beautiful ribbon curls over her shoulders, covering the tops of her breasts, running down her back as she moves her perfect body against his, those curves sending him into a trance as she winds her hips on his fingers.

Needy, and greedy, he slips a third finger inside of her, moaning as she suffocates them, his thumb rubbing her once, twice, three times before her pussy locks his fingers in a vice grip as she comes, the wet sounds echoing around them as Mat continues his assault.

He surges up, kissing her again to swallow her cries, his cock throbbing painfully when Summer begins to suck on his tongue, anchoring herself as her orgasm rides through her.

When she’s had enough, she reaches down, circling his wrist with her hand and squeezing firmly, signaling for him to stop. He does, slowing his ministrations before carefully pulling out of her a digit at a time, and when his fingers were free, he wastes no time before bringing his hand to his mouth and sucking a finger between his lips.

Summer watches with heavy lidded eyes as he tastes her, and he makes sure to suck it clean before he brings his other two fingers to her lips. Obediently, and compliant by orgasm, she sucks his fingers eagerly, tasting herself, and it takes Mat everything in him not to come in his pants at the sight.

He withdraws his fingers and replaces them with his mouth, moaning at the taste of her on her tongue, and dirty fantasies start to play in his head.

Mat wants to be in a bed with her, touching, hands wandering all over, exchanging sloppy kisses for hours before he gets her on her knees, spits in her mouth, tongue her down then spit in it again before wrapping her hair in his grip, holding her chin as her messy lips parts, guiding it to his cock, stuffing himself down her throat -

They could do that. They could do that right now. All he had to do was get her out of this closet and down the hall to the guest room she was staying in and -

The sliding door of the kitchen opens loudly, someone mills about, and then the door closes again, its loud click reminding them of their limited time frame, lack of privacy, and obvious company.

Mat should have backed away, but he didn’t. Instead, he kept kissing Summer until their slow, languid kisses turned into soft pecks, and she pushed gently at his chest until he was at arm's length.

The distance, however short, made his blood run cold.

“We should - I should go.” Summer says. Her voice was hoarse, lips red from his love, and her body called to his again.

Her hair draped around her like a veil, her breasts still bared to him, nipples shiny from his mouth, and her dress slightly bunched up to the tops of her thighs, Summer looked every bit as sexy to him as the day he met her, only now, there was something about the glow of her skin that made it scream “mine” in Mat’s eyes.

“You should go back outside.” She continues when he says nothing. “They’ll be wondering where we are. And if whoever that was tells everyone else they didn’t hear us yelling at each other, they’ll be suspicious. Especially Sabrina and Anders.”

“Summer, we should -”

“I’ll go first. Then you go. You can say you had to go out front for some air. I’ll go to my room.”

He frowns, hard cock softening as reality sinks in.

She’s trying to run from you. The devil on his shoulder whispered. Don’t let her.

Too late.

Without another word, Summer adjusted her clothes, covering herself up and smoothing down her hair before she flipped the lock, opened the door, and sauntered off, leaving Mat standing there as his brain fought past the fog of desire and tried desperately to catch up.

When it did, he realized that despite feeling like he just took four steps forward with Summer, she shoved him back eight, and he didn’t know how to cross back over that distance without admitting all the things he kept buried inside.

He never actually hated her. Not really. She pushed and he pushed back - it’s how they’d always been.

But if Summer decided to pull instead of push one day, Mat was certain he’d go willingly, eagerly into her arms. And hadn’t he just done that?

He debates for a second that he might just disobey her, might go after her and finish what they started, and then wonders if it would be better if he snuck into the bathroom and jacked off.

He does neither of those things. Instead, he walks back out to join his teammates, friends, and their significant others in the backyard, trying to ignore the fact that he just had the girl of his dreams in his arms, and let her walk away.

So…that had happened.

Summer currently lay on her back, staring at her bedroom ceiling.

She’d been thankful that Sabrina didn’t think to ask twice when she’d said she’d be staying at her apartment “doing chores” instead of heading to Sabrina’s like normal. It was technically a Saturday where she’s supposed to be helping with wedding planning, but she didn’t want to risk it.

It being Mat undoubtedly showing up at their house and forcing Summer to confront her new apparent reality.

It had been a week since their little almost-sexcapade in Sabrina’s hall closet, and she couldn’t shake the memory of it no matter how hard she tried.

(If you could count reacquainting herself with her dildo and pretending it was Mat as trying.)

She’d been trying to get the feeling of him out of her mind, but she couldn’t. It was no use. Every time she closed her eyes, she could conjure the image of him as he kissed her, as he fingered her within an inch of her life, the way his eyes tracked her movements as she sucked herself off of his fingers before he’d claimed her mouth.

He’d kissed her, touched her, tasted her like he owned her, and Summer wasn’t sure if she liked it and should be wanting more, or if she should be concerned that she’d let him do any of that to her in the first place.

Of course Mat was handsome. She wasn’t blind.

It was just that…well, she thought he hated her.

Summer was under the impression that all of their back and forth had been a clear indication that he couldn’t stand her, wanted nothing to do with her, and thought of her the same way most men did.

Uninteresting. Not as pretty. Not worth it.

It made her confused. Made her start to rethink everything she thought she knew about him.

The night she got back from Sabrina’s after he’d taken her into the closet, she’d grabbed her phone, opened up Instagram, and looked through all of his activity. The comments, the reactions, all of it. While he may not have interacted with all of her stories, he’d watched them, every single one, and had to wonder…

Was that Mat…flirting? Or trying to?

No. No way. It couldn’t have been. She’d seen Mat flirt with countless women over the years she’d known him. What he did was not flirting.

Or…was it?

Summer let out another groan, flopping onto her stomach and deciding hiding herself away in her apartment and trying to figure this out on her own was going to be no use.

She got up, changing into a babydoll dress - to hell with pants - grabbing her purse and car keys to head to Buttercooky Bakery and Cafe.

Once she got there, she ordered her usual array of pastries and had them boxed up, so she could bring them to Sabrina’s house. If her sister decided to ask, Summer would just lie and say she finished up her chores early.

The only way to stop thinking about Mat was to fill her brain to capacity with something else, anything else.

Wedding planning should do the trick.

The team was playing Kan Jam in Anders’ back yard while Sabrina and the other significant others lounged inside.

Mat, usually one of the first ones to jump in and play, had been working out with Josh and Casey instead, trying desperately to focus on anything but the fact that the last time he’d set foot in this house, nearly a week ago, he’d defiled his captain’s future sister in law.

Well, partially defiled.

Still.

Summer’s nearly naked body plagued his mind every waking second of his day, and the only way he seemed to be able to get rid of it was when he needed to focus on something else.

Like right now - focusing on trying not to drop two hundred and fifty pounds of barbells on his chest as he bench pressed.

He keeps the count in his head, trying to focus on his breathing, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, when Josh tapped his shoulder from his spotter’s position, and Mat pushed up, allowing Josh to take the bar from him and set it back in place. Mat sat up carefully, accepting his water bottle from Casey before looking at Josh.

Josh wasn’t paying attention though, instead watching his wife through the open sliding door toward Sabrina and Anders’ kitchen, where Summer had apparently just arrived, a pastry box in tow and a small smile for her older sister.

Mat’s heart runs head first into his ribcage.

He feels the need in his body to go to her and pushes it down, instead tapping Josh on the side and gesturing toward the bench Mat was still sitting on. “Your turn, big guy.”

It was technically Casey’s turn to spot, but Mat took over, needing the distraction so he didn’t turn around to look at Summer, no matter how much he wanted to.

Later, when they finished their workout, and the rest of the guys finished their game of Kan Jam, they all took to the pool. Some of the significant others had come out to join them, swimming with the others, and when Mat didn’t spot Summer, he guessed that she’d probably just swung by to drop off pastries and then leave.

He feels it’s safe, so he grabs his bag and heads into the house, showering quickly in the guest bath down in the basement.

After he gets dressed and puts his shit away in his bag, he heads back up the stairs, fully intending to head to the backyard when he hears soft music, and he knows in his soul it’s Summer.

He follows the sound, trailing down the hallway that leads to the guest bedroom Anders and Sabrina designated as hers, not surprised to find her laying on the bed while soft music streams from the record player in the corner of the room.

She’s wearing a dress, her and her fucking dresses, hair fanned out around her on the covers, eyes open and staring at the ceiling while her mouth moves along silently to the words of the song.

Mat can feel a smart remark creeping up his throat - the usual way they greet each other - before he tamps it down, setting his bag down on the floor before he steps into the room, then shuts her bedroom door behind him softly, flicking the lock.

“Hi.” He says softly, trying not to startle her.

She turns her head to the side, expression seemingly blank as she stares at him. “Hi.”

God.

Mat swears he melts right there and then.

Her voice. All she’d said was a simple “hi” but it rang like tinkling bells in his head and he feels his hands twitch at his sides.

“Got a staring problem, thirteen?” She quips, but it doesn’t hold its usual attitude. There’s a cheeky smile that slowly breaks onto her face, and he finds himself moving forward, placing one knee on the bed.

To his surprise, she leans up, pushing up on her hands to sit up as he gets onto the bed on both knees.

She looks up at him, big brown eyes filled with expectation, and Mat, he can’t help it, he gives in.

“Been thinking about you.” He says, honestly, bringing his hands up to her face, brushing away some of the curls before just holding her cheeks in his palms.

She nods. “Me too.”

And that…that’s going to have to be enough.

He bends down, does it slowly enough to give Summer the room she needs to bail, to tell him “thanks for the orgasm!” and just leaves, reminding him that this isn’t what they do.

But she doesn’t.

She meets him halfway, her lips softly meeting his, hands coming up to rest on his forearms. It’s slow, languid, like honey dripping, and Mat revels in it. Loves the way that she lets him lead her as they kiss, lets him take control and take what he needs, what he wants from her with every movement of his lips, just take, take, take…

Mat feels her hands slowly trail down his arms, down his sides before she finds the hem of his shirt and dips her hands under it. They settle on his abdomen, and she runs her hands up and down before Mat feels her nails gently scratch down, and he shivers, pushing forward into her touch just a little more.

“Yeah?” She murmurs between kisses. Mat nods, and she does it again, digging her fingers in a little more that causes Mat to hiss a little, nipping her bottom lip between his teeth.

“Love your mouth.” He tells her, seizing it in another searing kiss that turns filthy the minute Summer lets her hands trail down his abdomen again and settles on the waistband of his sweats.

“My mouth?” She asks, voice teasing as her fingers start to dip below, and he drops one of his hands from her face to trap both her wrists in one grip, the other hand dropping to the hollow of her throat. He doesn’t squeeze, just holds her there, holds her gaze in his as his breathing quickens.

“Yes.” He answers. “Your insolent little mouth.”

A wicked gleam crosses her brown eyes, and Mat can feel her testing his limits - something she clearly doesn’t forget how to do. She hums, blinking a little in a way that has Mat tracking the slow movement of her eyelashes brushing the tops of her cheeks. He finds himself bending to kiss them, pressing his lips to one cheek, then the other, and drops both hands to help her wind her arms around him as he finally comes down on top of her.

She opens her legs to welcome his body between them, and he fits there easily, just as he’d hoped he would. She’s all soft - soft skin, soft embrace - as he brings his arms next to her, cradling her head in his hands so he can tangle his fingers in her hair, grip it tight to tilt her head back.

Just as he had before, the second her mouth opens to him as he starts to kiss her, he claims it, slipping his tongue between her lips, trying to gauge how far she’ll let him take this, take this moment, how far she’ll let him play with her.

He pulls back a little, figures he might be swinging for the fences, but he won’t know unless he tries.

Summer’s panting as she stares at him, waiting for him.

“Open your mouth.” He says. His voice is gentle, but it’s a command all the same.

Mat watches and feels his cock go rock solid when Summer’s eyes glaze over and she smiles slowly, syrupy, wicked, and then she slowly opens her mouth, tongue sticking out and all.

Holy fucking shit.

Mat can’t breathe. He purses his lips, watches as his spit trails from his mouth into hers, onto her tongue, and then that beautiful tongue disappears as her mouth closes. He watches her swallow, and then the little fucking devil has the nerve to say “Thank you.”

He can’t contain himself anymore. Anything in him that demanded they take this moment slow fucking vaporizes when he surges forward again, fist tightening in her hair as he holds her face to his in a dirty, sloppy, open mouthed kiss.

He starts to move his hips, grinding into the warm, familiar heat between the apex of her thighs, those beautiful legs bracketing his sides, and her hands travel to his ass, squeezing his cheeks while pulling him closer to her, tilting her hips up to meet his thrusts.

Christ.

He hadn’t done this in…well…ever. He’d never been fully clothed, grinding desperately against a girl, about ten seconds from coming in his pants from kissing and spit play and

“What the fuck are you doing to me?” Mat demands against her mouth, and he trails his kisses to the side, kissing the corner of her mouth, her chin, cheek, jaw, and he brings his lips to her neck, leaving slow kisses, gentle kisses that quickly turn to nips when she lines them up, his cock right where she must need him to be, and moves her hips up and down, guiding their friction.

He sucks the skin of her neck in his mouth hard, laving it with his tongue while she whines beneath him. One of her hands flies up to cup the back of his head, her fingers combing between the strands and gripping it, the other digging her nails into his ass cheek with a vice grip.

“Take what you need.” Mat says against her neck. “Take it, take it, take it…”

She nods furiously, and Mat bends his head, sucking another mark into her neck, freeing one hand from her curls and bringing it to her breasts, tugging the neckline of her dress down and gripping one of her breasts in his hand, pinching her nipple between his fingers.

Summer cries out, and Mat brings his lips back to hers to swallow it, lets her kiss him messily before he brings his hands to her hips, taking over, guiding them and giving her what she needs.

He’s learned her rhythm at this point, and had been paying attention in the back of his mind at her breaths, her movements, where she needed him to be and what made her get closer and closer to that beautiful orgasm.

“I’ve got you, beautiful.” He promises. “I’ve got you.”

“Need more.” Summer pleads, trailing her hand between them. Mat tracks her hand as it goes, watches it dip down and under the hem of her dress to her black lace panties that have been moved to the side in their grinding.

His hips stutter slightly at the sight of her bare pussy almost fully exposed to him. The mauve of the lips of her mouth match the mauve of the lips of her pussy, her pussy which is shining with the wetness of her arousal. He’d had it wrapped around his fingers, knew how good it felt, but at the minute, he demanded to know how good it tasted.

Mat began to rise up on his arms, fully intended to scoot down the bed and throw those beautiful caramel thighs over his shoulder and drink his fill, but Summer caught him, pulled his face down to hers with a shake of her head. “Need you now.” She pleads, kissing him again. “Please.”

There was a part of him that went to protest, but then her hand dipped beneath his waistband and wrapped around his cock, and Mat felt a groan leave his mouth as he settled his body atop hers once more.

“Please.” She says again, urging him to start moving. It took him a second, but he found the rhythm she needed.

His cock, freed from his pants that he’d shoved around his thighs, sliding up and down against her bare pussy, fucking up into the grip of her hands while they kissed, sloppy, messy, desperate.

Summer was moaning into his mouth now, his name a prayer on her lips between kisses, and Mat felt it, felt the way her body began to seize, began to shake and tremble and he felt like he could cry with relief.

“Please baby.” He begs. “Come for me. Wanna see you come for me again.”

She cried out, tears springing from her eyes and trailing down her cheeks. The devil inside him rose up in Mat and he leaned down a little more, licking her tears from her skin. It must have spoken to her devil, because then she gripped his chin in her hand and kissed him, her tongue seeking his to taste her tears.

“You’re going to fucking kill me.” He murmurs, and it makes Summer laugh before she moans again, desperate as her hips work faster, climbing closer and closer to her orgasm.

Mat focuses on the softness of her hand, the wetness of her pussy he can feel against him and his eyes screw shut. “Please Summer, please, I need you to -”

“Yes Mat,” she says, “Yes yes yes yes yes…”

Her hips move and move and move, and when she begins to come, begins to shake under his body, he pushes forward into her hand the moment her hips cant up, and instead of gliding against her pussy when she brings her hips back down, the head of his dick catches against her entrance, and she pushes him inside, bare cock to her bare pussy, he's inside, and it sends Mat careening over the edge of a cliff and into his own orgasm full force.

Summer’s hand disappears from between them as Mat drops the full weight of his body on hers, his hands on her hips as he pumps inside her, coming and emptying his load into her awaiting cunt.

“Oh my god,” she moans out, hands circling around his neck as she winds her hips, riding out their orgasms together.

It’s not enough. The squeeze of her pussy, the wetness from her orgasm dripping down his cock and onto his balls, the way her body seems to invite him deeper inside of her.

Mat continues his assault, pounding his hips and placing his hands on the backs of her thighs, opening her up for him so he can fuck her deeper. His cock is sensitive, but he can feel the need, can feel that her little fucking stunt wasn’t enough, that he still has more to give her.

“You’re a goddamn maniac.” He curses, watching his dick tunnel in and out of her. “A goddamn nightmare.”

Summer cries out his name, and his eyes flash up to hers, capturing her gaze. “Please,” she begs sweetly, and he has half a mind to wrap his hands around her throat and squeeze until she tells him “thank you” again.

She’s a fucking demoness. The devil on his shoulder praises. She’d let you do it.

“Open your fucking mouth.” He says instead, says again. She does as he asks, no slow preamble about it, and he spits into her awaiting mouth, kissing her before she can close it. He brings one hand from her thigh to rest on her throat in warning, pulling back to say “Now swallow it, you fucking brat.”

She does, opening her mouth to show him, sticking her tongue out. He sucks it into his mouth before kissing her again, squeezing her throat when he says “Good fucking girl.”

He pushes up, placing his hand back on her thigh as he continues to fuck into her, chasing his second orgasm.

It comes when Summer does, for the second time, without warning as she squeezes down on him, her body pulsing and legs shaking beneath his touch. Mat feels her arousal drip down him again and he’s coming with a long groan, pressing deep inside of Summer.

He drops down again, pressing kisses to her neck, her cheek, working his way back to her lips where she meets him eagerly, and he lets her thighs go, her legs immediately wrapping around him and making it clear she doesn’t want him to leave anytime soon.

As if he fucking could. As if he wanted to. Nothing could take him away from her now.

“Gonna roll us on our side, okay?” He says, voice a little hoarse. Summer nods, moving with him as he goes. He hikes up the leg that’s on top of him a little higher, making it easier for him to remain inside her.

As his hands creep under her dress and trail up the soft, round slope of her belly, Mat smiles when Summer giggles a little, clearly ticklish.

They stare at one another, smiles in their eyes.

Holy shit.

Had he hoped for another moment like this with Summer? Of course! Did he think it’d happen today? No.

Had he hoped for it? Still yes.

Eventually, he does pull out, and they trail into the bathroom in Summer’s room to clean up a little bit. When they’re done, he follows her back out to her room and they resume their position laying on their sides, legs tangled together as they stare at one another.

“Don’t run away.” He finds himself saying, knows there’s a ‘please’ in there he’s not saying, but one she can certainly hear.

She shakes her head, reaching out with her fingers to brush his lips. “I won’t.” She promises, watches as Mat takes her fingers and kisses the tips of each one before bringing it to rest on his chest.

Part of him is happy. Happy and sated. The other is mildly alarmed that he had the balls to fuck Summer, his captain’s future younger sister in law, in his captain’s house, less than a week after he fingered her in the hall closet of the same house.

Men had been castrated over a lot less.

“What does this mean?” Summer asks, hesitation in her tone.

It should scare Mat. Questions like that usually do, but with Summer, it doesn’t.

He shrugs. “It means I might actually like you a little bit, you fucking brat.”

There’s a pause, and Mat chances a look at her to see if she’s taken it the wrong way, but she merely blinks at him, and then laughs, laughs light and loud and Mat’s laughing along with her, their laughter filling their bellies and the room until there’s happy tears leaking from Summer’s eyes.

“I think I can live with that.” She finally says. The expression on her face reads satisfaction, and he thinks he’d do anything she wanted if it meant he could keep that look on her face.

He liked knowing he put it there in the first place.

They fell into a comfortable silence, letting the record player continue crooning whatever vinyl Summer had put on before he’d come in here and…well…taken her for himself.

Mat watched Summer’s beautiful face closely, watched her breathing even out, and felt like he could fall asleep right here, tangled together with her in the soft glow of her room.

That is, until incessant knocking rained down on her door, and Sabrina’s indignant voice rang out.

“Mat Barzal! You’d better explain why you’ve locked yourself in my sister’s room!”

More thunderous knocking, and Mat reaches out, securing Summer and relaxing her when it makes her wince.

“I know you’re in there!” Sabrina exclaims. “Your bag is in the hall, you fucking asshole!”

“You’d better not be doing what I think you’re doing!” Anders calls out next, and they can’t help it.

Summer and Mat burst out laughing again.

“Is it just sex then? Or is there more?” Sabrina asks Summer, hours later. The sun’s been gone and there’s a fire going in their pit. They’re laying on the lounge chairs by the pool. The rest of the crowd still lingers, some in the hot tub near the edge of the yard, others coming in and out of the house.

“I don’t know,” Summer says honestly. “That’s the…second? Technically second, time we’ve done it.”

“Does the sex make you hate him less?

“I mean, the sex doesn’t hurt.”

Sabrina laughs at that, and as it dies down, considers her sister for a second.

It makes Summer uncomfortable, so she lets out a small nervous laugh, asking “What?”

Sabrina shakes her head a little. “I just…I feel like I partially expected this, but I also didn’t, but it makes sense. I think you’d be good together.”

Summer shrugs, aloof. “Maybe. Who knows? We’re just…hanging out.” That’s technically half true. All they’d done so far was…well, kind of fuck. And then fuck.

“Is that what the kids call it these days?” Sabrina teases, then reaches out, grabbing Summer’s hand and squeezing. “I’m just kidding. I mean it. If you’re cool with…whatever it is you two are doing, then I support you. But just remember it doesn’t mean I won’t stop looking out for you.”

“I know,” Summer promises, then looks across the yard to find Anders and Mat engaged in what looks to be a heated conversation, and Summer can only guess it’s similar to the one she and Sabrina just had.

Anders levels Mat with a Captainly look. “I’m telling you not to take this risk. This whole ‘I hate you but now I like you’ risk. And especially not with Summer.”

Mat scoffs, spotting her watching him from across the yard and shoots her a shit eating grin, wiggling his fingers in a small, hopefully reassuring wave. It seems to work, and Summer goes back to speaking to Sabrina.

He rounds on his captain, eyes narrowed. “Fuck off, okay? I know she’s gonna be your sister in law or whatever, but you don’t have anything to worry about. What we’re doing is casual. It’s a mutually beneficial transactional relationship.”

At least, he thinks it is. They hadn’t technically addressed that.

His captain narrows his gaze. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear you say that.”

“Anders-”

“I mean it, Mat. If you’re not serious about her, leave her alone. You saw the shit she went through with Will. I’m not saying you’re anything like him, but she can’t go through that again. And whether you want to admit it or not, there’s something between the two of you, and if it goes wrong, it’s going to be really, really bad.”

“It won’t.” Mat insists.

Even as the devil on his shoulder whispers "It might."

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