#mat barzal fanfiction
Text
That’s That Me, Espresso
Mat Barzal x model!fem!reader
A visceral in doses fic
Warnings: alcohol consumption, smut and mentions exhibitionism🤭 (bolded italics are flashbacks)
Takes place this summer
Mat has the perfect view from his floating in the pool. You’re on the chaise lounge, soaking up the vibrant sun rays. Your tortoise shell sunglasses sit perfectly on the bridge of your nose and you’re donned in the tiniest, pale yellow bikini. The cups of your top do the bare minimum at keeping you covered, but Mat has no complaints about it. He loves being able to see the sheen of sweat painting your skin, making it look extremely soft and silky. Don’t even get him started with the way your boobs rise and fall with every breath of air you take.
It’s like you know he’s watching when you adjust your form. His eyes follow the way your hips softly jut up so you can be more comfortable. Mat gulps down and leans his head back into the water, needing to cool down from your heated allure. But even with his eyes closed, he’s still taunted by the images of you behind his eyelids.
“Fuck, Maty. You feel so good,” you moan, hands pressed into his chest and your body straddling your boyfriend’s. His cock deep inside of you.
“Yeah, baby? You’re taking me so well,” he whispers, teeth nipping on your earlobe to make you lean into him.
Your boobs push up into his face and his mouth takes advantage of your nipples. He tugs and sucks at your stiffened peaks, drowning in the music that is your whimpers.
Mat’s hands go to your hips to guide you, but your body takes over. You bounce up and down, his leaking tip dragging along your wet walls. You grind into him and he hits your spongy spot. Your arousal increases and drips down his shaft. The squelching sounds intensifying your impending orgasm. After pleasure filled moments of taking him deeper and deeper, you start to swirl your hips from left to right and right to left. The movement lets you feel just how much he truly stretches you out. He fills you up in all the right ways; you swear you can feel him fuck into areas you didn’t even know existed.
“I’m gonna cum,” you announce, a finger circling your clit in tandem with your lower half.
“Cum for me, pretty girl,” your boyfriend encourages, hands glued to the cheeks of your ass.
The knot inside of your stomach snaps, throwing you into a dizzying, burning haze. Your back arches as your tight walls collapse around his cock. Mat’s finger takes over massaging your clit and that makes you go blind with ecstasy. Everything goes black as your body trembles furiously and you gush around his length. You fist his hair and pull his lips flush against yours, tongue thrusting into his mouth. He easily takes it into his mouth and sucks on it, tasting the remnants of his previous orgasm that you expertly sucked out of him.
Your sexy hockey player boyfriend shifts his hips, cock spreading you open all over again. You whimper and spasm against the muscles of his body. You’re so sensitive, any subtle movement of his has your cock-drunk pussy spiraling into another powerful orgasm. You clench down around him, keeping him tight and warm and making him see stars as he spills into you.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Your Pussy was made for me,” Mat’s groans rattle though your spent body as you continue to flutter around him, milking him for every single drop of his release.
A large hand wraps around your throat and pulls your face to his. His lips take yours and he steals whatever breath you have left.
Even in a relaxed state, Mat can’t escape the sight of your swiveling hips and the flush it creates on his neck down to his chest. It wouldn’t be a problem- the way you awaken his lust and cause his length to stir awake, but the fact that he has to wait until you’re done tanning is the problem.
It’s almost laughable the way Mat is so transparent. From your spot out of the water you can clearly tell he wants to take you exactly where you are. Impatience burns at his skin and you know that he wants nothing but to indulge in his lust.
You peer over at him from over the lens of your shades, catching a perfect glance at his hungry eyes. The usual hazel irises now mirror the espresso you had this morning. You flash him a knowing smirk, biting onto your bottom lip. The thought of his godlike body over yours sounds way too appealing.
God, you’re so lucky. You’re the one he craves; you’re the love of his life. All of his ex girlfriends and ex flings are nothing compared to you. You’re his living, breathing, dream. You feel nothing but pride, knowing that you’ve made him unattainable. You know, without a doubt, that one day you’ll be his wife and eventually have his babies. You shrug in nonchalance, happily accepting your fate while taking a sip of your sloshy margarita. The watermelon crush drips down your chin and you wipe it up with a single finger before popping it into your mouth, lapping up the liquid. Your action grabs Mat’s attention and pulls him out of the pool. You’re just too hard to resist.
“Hey, hot stuff,” Mat grins, droplets of water slipping down the defined ridges of his body as he exits the pool.
“Hey, hotshot,” you hum, taking another drink of the frozen goodness. The tequila burns your throat just right- almost like when you take your boyfriend’s cock into your mouth.
Mat pauses where he’s at, taking in the sight of you. You teasingly spread your legs open, your bikini covered heat begging him to come over. You silently call him to you with your pointer finger making a come hither motion.
“Hi, baby, can you put some tanning lotion on me?” You simply ask, holding out the bottle towards him.
“Of course, pretty girl.” He takes the bottle and squeezes the substance onto his palm.
Before he can start you flip over onto your stomach. You sport a cocky grin when you notice Mat’s eyes dip down to the curves of your ass. Now he knows why you had that familiar sultry lilt to your question; you were being a tease. With a deep breath he moves to start massaging the lotion into your legs.
His big hands take up so much space on your body and it drives you wild. Your core starts to drip and flutter, too bad you have to wait.
Moving onto your back, he takes his time and gives you a gentle massage. You practically melt into the lounger beneath you, especially when he starts tracing the letters of your tattoo. The feeling of his rough hands on your smooth skin is so enticing, because despite the roughness, he treats your body like you’re a goddess.
“That feels so good,” you moan and stretch out your limbs. Mat is instantly transported to his previous thoughts of you coming undone on top of him. Those moans are the exact same.
Without a word, your boyfriend delivers a hard smack to your ass. Your skin simmers under his palms and he grows hotter after hearing your whimper. The sting sends a jolt of pulsing desire to your pussy.
“You little shit,” you huff out, blowing some of your hair out of your face after Mat flipped you over by your hips. You throw a playful glare at him, but he just gives you a sassy smirk in return.
“You love me,” he says with a shrug and boy is he right.
You clench your thighs together as you’re desperate for friction. The way he easily manhandles you is one of the hottest things ever.
“Yeah, I guess I do,” you sigh, hands moving behind your back and pulling at the strings that hold your top up.
Your eyes lock onto your boyfriend’s, tension rising into the already humid air, and pull your top away from your chest. Your breasts fall free and every rational thought flees Mat’s head. He’s spent the entire time at the pool wanting you moaning and fucked out; he’s not waiting any longer.
Before he can make his next move, you place your foot on torso. He cocks his head to the side in a silent question. You hold the bottle of lotion out to him, humming in satisfaction when he reluctantly takes it.
This time his movements are with haste and he makes sure not to rub any on your exposed boobs. Not even your protest could get him to comply, but you quickly drop it in hopes of his perfect tongue swirling around your nipples.
After he’s done and the sun tan lotion is put away, he crawls over you. His hulking body looms over your smaller frame. To anyone else it’d look daunting, but it fills you with a carnal urge. Your hands ghost over his muscled chest and faint goosebumps appear on his skin. He leans down over your chest and takes a nipple into his mouth. You arch off the lounger and enjoy the way he nips at you. You card your fingers through his hair, pulling at the strands every time he sucks on you harder.
“Kiss me,” you whine, guiding his mouth away from your nipple and onto your mouth.
His tongue snakes between your lips, getting a taste of your margarita. The kiss is bruising and makes your body tingle; your heart accelerating with each caress. You pull Mat down on top of you, arms and legs wrapping around him. Your whine is swallowed by him as he grinds his clothed cock into your covered pussy. Pulling away, Mat takes a look at your glossy and plump lips, then he nibbles at them while you lay flaccid under him. His hands roam down your sides, painting you in a darkened flush that isn’t your tan. He fiddles with the ties of your bikini bottoms and slowly pulls them undone.
“I want you,” his voice is heavy with lust and it makes the hairs on your body stand.
Not feeling like replying, you rip off the bottoms to your bathing suit and then pull off his swim trunks. His member is thick and waiting for you. You give it a momentary fist until he knocks your hands away.
He grabs your waist and drags you closer to him. You let go of all control as he starts to roll your hips into him. Mat squeezes his cock between your folds, and each time you move, his angry, red tip massages your swollen clit. His length stiffens even more than it already is and it makes you want him even more.
“Please, baby. Please fuck me. Ruin me,” you beg, hands trying to put him inside of you.
“I got you, baby,” he shushes you.
He pushes into you with a gasp, making one fall from your lips at the delicious stretch. You’ll never get over the way his thick cock opens you up.
Mat holds himself up over you with his forearms pressing into the cushion. His thrusts are lazy, but you don’t care. Not when you can feel each of his veins rub against your tight walls. Even the vibration of his moans can be felt deep in your core, sparking up a fire within you. You move your hands to his back, falling more in love with the way his muscles stretch under his skin. You hold him tight because you need something grounding, something so you won’t quickly evaporate into the abyss.
“You feel so good, pretty girl,” Mat moans, his voice sickly sweet.
Your boyfriend tries to fasten his pace, but your slick walls won’t let him fully pull out. Looking down, Mat watches the way you suck him in and how your arousal collects at the base of his cock. The sight is erotic and Mat can feel his release start to bubble up.
You cup his cheeks, lips encasing his. The moment he sticks his tongue in your mouth you’re sucking on it like it’s the last thing you’ll get to feast on. You’re just about to tug on his bottom lip when your head falls back and a raspy moan claws its way up your throat. He nudged your g-spot with purpose; he wants to see you lost in rapture. He wants to see the way your chest heaves and your toes curl as you attempt to hold yourself together. Your nails dig into his skin and leave behind a trail of blistering red streaks. Those will have to be kissed on at a later time.
His hips bear down and snap into you, your breasts bouncing with every thrust. You can feel him bulge in your abdomen every time he lifts your lower half up to meet his movements.
“Oh my god! Yes, baby,” you shout, body running on nothing but margaritas and lust.
Your pussy starts to flutter around him, you’re slick dripping down his balls just as your tanning lotion now coats Mat’s skin. You wish so badly that you weren’t in the privacy of your own vacation home, so people can see and be jealous of the way your boyfriend tears you apart with his rock hard length. Something similar to feral grips at you, turning your rational mind upside down. You’d be called insane if people knew that you want the sound of the afternoon breeze to turn into moans of other people getting off on you and your man.
“Baby, you’re so wet. Is it all for me?” Mat asks as if he doesn’t already know.
“Yes! All for you,” you say with an affirmative nod.
Your core melts around him as he pushes deeper inside of you. You press your feet into the small of his back to keep him flush to you. His mouth is right next to your ear and his salacious moans set off your release. A soft hand goes to the nape of his neck and grips his grown out hair. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your orgasm surges through your body. Your twitching walls create a ripple effect and push his orgasm into motion. His hot cum shoots thick ropes inside of you as you quake underneath him.
With a low, husky grunt Mat slumps into your body. Your boobs become squished into his sweaty chest, but the feeling of his rapidly beating heart distracts you from the feel of the tackiness dressing your skin. He noses at the pulse point on your neck; his lips leaving delicate kisses and fresh bruises you’ll have to cover with makeup.
“I love you,” he mumbles into your collarbone before resting his cheek over your heart. His breath is heavy and his eyes are lidded, Luke he’s ready to fall asleep.
He slowly rearranges himself, his cock still keeping his release inside of you, making sure to softly drag out your orgasm.
“I love you,” you moan. His weight keeps you anchored down, so your overstimulation doesn’t sweep you away.
You gently card your fingers through his hair, each other’s bodies slipping into a state of tranquility. You eventually fall asleep wrapped up in Mat as the sun washes over the both of you in your throne of bliss.
a/n: So this is the first piece in a while that I enjoyed writing for visceral in doses. I hope you all enjoy it🫶
#mat barzal#mat barzal fanfiction#mat barzal x reader#mat barzal fic#visceral in doses#nhl imagine#nhl fic#new york islanders
256 notes
·
View notes
Text
voicemail | mat barzal
summary: you’ve left mat many voicemails in the last few months, but he finally listens to them
warnings: mentions of pregnancy and childbirth
a/n: head empty no thoughts. enjoy!
xoxo nina
“Hey you’ve reached Mat. Leave a message after the beep.”
“Mat it’s me… I know we haven’t talked for few months but I would really appreciate it if you called me back.”
“Hey me again. Please call me back, I really need to talk to you.”
“Listen I know we broke up but… This is super important. I wouldn’t be calling if it wasn’t. Please Mat.”
“Since you won’t pick up the phone I’ll just say it. I’m pregnant, Mat. It’s yours. Please… Just let me know you’ve gotten my calls and texts.”
“I don’t want money or anything, I just want you to know about our son and have the chance to be there for him. Call me please.”
“Hey, me again… If you don’t want to be apart of this that’s fine I just… I need you to tell me so I’m not sitting around with this false hope that you’ll show up for us.”
“Mat my water broke and I’m so scared. All I want is you. If you were ever going to pick up the phone now would be the time. Please babe, I can’t do this without you.”
“Matty…. He looks just like you. Please… please pick up the phone.”
+
“Fuck… C’mon Grey,” you groaned quietly as you rocked your two week old son. He was crying loudly and nothing you’d done yet seemed to help. “Bubs please, mama is trying her best.”
His wails continued, your shoulders slumping in defeat as you rocked back and forth. You were seconds away from crying right alongside your little boy.
A knock on the door interrupted your thoughts. Your brow furrowed but you moved toward it anyways. With a wince you glanced at your reflection in the hallway mirror. Your hair was messily piled on your head, the dark circles under your eyes were almost purple, and you had spit up on your shirt.
“Hold on Greyson, I’m just gonna answer the… door…,” your voice faltered as you pulled the door open to reveal Mat standing there. His hair was sticking up as if he’d been running his hands through it and his eyes were puffy. “Mat?”
Mat didn’t say anything as his eyes locked on Greyson who was still loudly wailing, unaware of the tension boiling between his parents. He blinked a few times before he looked up at you with watery eyes, “Is… Is that him? Is that our son?”
Your lip trembled as you looked up at Mat, heart aching in your chest as your eyes met, “You didn’t answer my calls.”
“I know.”
“You missed my whole pregnancy.”
“I know.”
“You weren’t there to hold my hand when he was born. I…,” tears welled in your eyes, quickly spilling over as you and Mat stood across from each other. “What- why now? What the hell are you doing here Mat?”
You fell into full on sobs as Mat stepped forward and pulled you into his arms, both you and Greyson crying against his chest. His arms held you close as he whispered apologies and sweet words to you.
“I’m so sorry baby, I’ll explain everything. Okay? I’ll tell you everything,” Mat whispered against your hair. You couldn’t do anything but cry along with your son, your shoulders deflating as Mat held you. “It’s okay, I got you. I got you both.”
When Mat gently grabbed Greyson from your arms you didn’t hesitate to hand him over. You’d been rocking him for close to two hours and you were delirious and exhausted from trying to calm your son.
“I’ll hold him while you take a nap,” Mat pressed a kiss to your forehead, holding you close for a moment. “I’m here baby, I got you.”
You laid in bed for a few minutes simply staring at the ceiling. You and Mat had gone through a civil breakup, ending things solely because you rarely saw each other. Between his job and yours your schedules were hard to coordinate and it had put unnecessary stress on both of you.
When you’d both decided to break off your relationship you spent the whole night in bed together. You couldn’t even begin to count how many times you and Mat had made love, chuckling as you realized that’s probably when Greyson was conceived.
With a sigh you laid down, your eyes immediately shutting as you drifted off to sleep thinking about you and Mat and your son.
+
Your body wakes you up, the breastmilk leaking through your top a sure sign that you’ve missed a feeding. With a groan you changed before going to hunt down Mat and Grey.
Stretched out across your couch is Mat, Greyson on his bare chest. His eyes scanned over every inch of your son as if he didn’t want to miss a single detail.
“Hi,” you whispered from the doorway, Mat’s eyes finally breaking away from Grey to meet your eyes. “I need to feed him, my boobs are killing me.”
Mat didn’t make any jokes, much to your surprise, as he sat up and handed Greyson over to you. You sat on the opposite end of the couch and quickly latched the baby onto your breast before you looked back over to Mat. His head was in his hands, bent over as he heaved a deep sigh.
“Mat-“
“I’m so sorry,” he cut you off, eyes still locked on the floor. “I… Fuck… After we broke up I was a mess. I started- ah, hooking up with this girl Hayley. It was casual, I literally never saw her outside of our hookups but she clearly wanted more.”
Your heart clenched as Mat told you about this other woman, but you let him keep going. You knew he wouldn’t be telling you this if there wasn’t a point to it all.
“We started casually dating. Just dinner or a movie before we… You know… Anyways last night I woke up to her going through my phone,” Mat stopped, finally pulling his head away from his hands as he looked up at you. “She had been deleting all your messages. I kicked her out and they were all there so I… I listened to every single one and then I drove over here. As soon as I knew I was on your doorstep. I’m so sorry. If I’d known, if I’d heard that first message I would’ve been here for everything.”
You hadn’t even realized you were crying until Mat leaned over to brush the tears staining your cheeks. You met his eyes, hurt and sincerity floating in them.
“I can never stop apologizing for missing all of this but I swear I’ll be here for every moment from here on out,” Mat whispered as he caressed your cheek. “Okay?”
You nodded as Mat kissed your forehead just as Grey let out a whine in your arms. Mat chuckled as you gently patted his back and coaxed a burp out of the infant, “He didn’t wanna be ignored.”
“He’s an attention seeker, just like his dad,” you snorted and watched as Mat’s face lit up. You handed Grey back to him, smiling as your son curled right into him. “He also already looks just like you. Figures since he has your name.”
Mat’s brows furrowed as he looked from Greyson to you, “My name?”
“Greyson Mathew,” Mat’s eyes widened as you grinned. “I knew you wouldn’t have ignored me on purpose or out of spite. And I don’t know what stopped me from just marching down to your place with my huge belly and waiting until you talked to me. I think a part of me was scared that maybe you would reject me to my face. I don’t know but… I’m glad you’re here now.”
Mat pulled you into his side, cuddling you into him as he pressed a kiss to your hair. Grey squirmed around for a second but calmed as you put your hand over Mat’s on his back. The scene was sweet and intimate, what you’d been dreaming of since you found out you were pregnant.
Everything was perfect.
+
“Grey’s screaming,” you groaned as you cuddled into Mat’s chest. “It’s too early for screaming Mathew.”
Mat chuckled as he slowly extracted himself from your hold, “I’ll go get the gremlin. You just lay there and look pretty.”
You grinned up at Mat as he left the room, heading down the hall towards Greyson’s room. A harsh kick landed against your stomach and you groaned, settling your hand against the slight curve of your belly.
“Your brother is already causing a ruckus, I don’t need you too,” you chuckled as another kick hit your hand. “Calm down sweet girl or daddy is gonna come in here and rile you up.”
“My girl is awake?” Mat asked excitedly from the doorway, Greyson on his hip with an identical smile to Mat’s as you rolled your eyes. “Lemme feel her.”
Greyson plopped himself onto the bed and curled into your side, watching with wide eyes as Mat leaned down to whisper to your belly.
“Baby!”
“Yup that’s your baby sister,” you giggled as Mat pressed a kiss to your belly. “Enough Mathew, you already know she’s gonna be a daddy’s girl.”
“I know,” Mat groaned as he looked up at you with a smirk. “But I didn’t get to experience this with Grey. I want to make the most of this.”
You smiled and ran a hand through Mathew’s curls, your wedding rings glinting in the morning light as his cheek pressed against your belly, “You’re an amazing dad Mat, have been from day one. We’re very lucky to have you.”
“I couldn’t imagine my life without you three,” Mat smirked at you before he leaned up and kissed you softly. “Thank you for giving us a family.”
“Thanks for listening to your voicemails,” you grinned as he leaned into your side.
#Mat barzal#Mat barzal imagine#mat barzal fanfiction#nhl imagine#nhl fic#hockey fanfiction#hockey imagine#nina writes
615 notes
·
View notes
Text
girl at home | mat barzal | part 4
pairing: mat barzal x fem!reader
summary: you’re eighteen when you find yourself pregnant after Mat leaves for hockey. nearly eight years later, Mat finds out about your daughter and you have to deal with the consequences of not telling him about her.
warnings: not edited, angst, mentions of alcohol, pregnancy, food
word count: 1.3k
authors note: sorry it's late & short but i was sick and then had writers block. i hope u guys like it!! if u like it let me know but if you hate it also let me know.
also HUGE thanks to @barzysbaby for the help with this chapter!! it probably wouldn't have been finished without your help!
if anyone wants to be added or taken off the tag list, let me know! you can shoot me a dm, send an ask or fill out my tag list form.
requests are open 🫶🏻
masterlist masterpost ask box taglist form
After your unexpected heart-to-heart with Mat, you begin to realize that you’re starting to tread on some thin ice with your relationship with him. Letting those feelings you’d tucked away start to come back was a recipe for disaster because you had Nora to think about. If he really wanted to be a part of her life, the two of you couldn’t start a relationship because if it went wrong, it would ruin the opportunity for him to be in her life comfortably.
However, the problem is how perceptive Nora can be.
Letting yourself have ‘just one moment’ with Mat last night was a bad idea because you wake up on the couch the next morning, Mat holding you close, and a grumpy six-year-old demanding breakfast.
“Eggs please,” Nora demands, curious eyes watching you and Mat. When you make no move to get up off the couch and get her breakfast, she stomps a foot and crosses her arms.
“Grandma said I could have eggs for breakfast,” she says and then pauses before adding: “and she said I could have pancakes. Chocolate chip pancakes.”
“You’re not at grandma’s, are you?” you reply, watching her frown.
“Well then can you bring me to grandma’s?” she replies without missing a beat.
You open your mouth to tell her no, you won’t be bringing her to grandmas with that attitude when Mat interrupts.
“I’ll make some pancakes,” he mumbles sleepily, sitting up and pulling you with him. You turn to tell him no but your mouth goes dry because you forgot how good he looks in the morning. You’re staring long enough that he notices and a smirk tugs at his mouth but he doesn’t say anything, instead standing up and offering a hand to Nora.
“Let’s go make mom some pancakes,” he says and she smiles up at him and it’s just so damn domestic that you want to cry.
You watch them walk over to the kitchen and start preparing the ingredients while you sit there, trying to pull yourself together. He’s falling so seamlessly into being a parent that you can’t decide how to feel. His attentiveness and patience with her could be temporary and then when he realizes how hard being a parent really is, you’ll be left to clean up the mess he leaves behind. On the other hand, he might be serious about the entire thing and everything could work out.
Nora's giggles catch your attention and you look to see Mat cracking an egg on her forehead like the video he had sent you a few days ago, claiming that he would try it on Nora. Almost as if he can sense that you’re watching them, he looks up and catches your eye and grins, tilting his head slightly.
“You wanna help or just sit there all morning?” he teases so you stand up and make your way to the kitchen to stand next to Nora, kissing the forehead when she grins up at you.
“How can I help?”
. . .
It was inevitable that the hockey world would catch wind that Mathew Barzal had a child. Whether it was his now ex-girlfriend, or just someone from home that spilled the beans, suddenly all the sports sites had articles up about it. They can't legally say Nora’s name or show photos of her because she’s still a minor, but they can definitely dig up old high school pictures and find your instagram.
It wasn’t hard to put the pieces together for people to realize that you were his baby mama. You had to turn your social media accounts private because you were suddenly having people comment on your photos, and sending DM’s. Most of them weren’t the nicest, accusing you of kid-trapping Mat and while you knew that it was useless to be upset over it, it was hard. They didn’t and would never know the details but it bothered you to no end, and unfortunately, you took your frustration out on Mat, who took whatever you threw at him. You said things you regretted the next morning and he would just smile and tell you it was fine.
But it wasn’t, and everything crashed down about two weeks after the first article was posted. You woke up to your phone buzzing, calls and texts from your mom, Jax, some other friends and even Liana.
And a single text from Mat that had just two words, and a link attached.
baby daddy: I'm sorry. instagram.com/matbarzal
It was a statement, clearly written by a PR Manager from the Islanders organization. The statement basically said that Mathew Barzal did not in fact have a child. It was just a rumor floating around that a disgruntled fan spread. A lot of people called it bullshit, saying that it was PR cleaning up a mess, which technically they were doing. Then, there were the fans and journalists who did believe the statement and tried to take back whatever they may have said that was mean.
It wasn’t the things other people were saying about it though, it was what Mat wasn’t saying. After the post, he ghosted you for four days, ignoring all the texts and calls even when they were about Nora. Liana and Nadia still asked to see Nora on the weekend that she normally does so you dropped her off Friday evening, noticing that Mat’s car was nowhere to be seen. Nadia and Liana didn’t say anything about the situation, just thanking you for letting Nora stay over for the night and promising to call if anything came up. You didn’t have anything planned so you went back to your apartment, hoping to catch up on some overdue work you’d been letting pile up.
Halfway through writing a draft for a chapter, there’s a knock on your door. You’re once again suspecting it to be Nadia or Liana with Nora but you come face to face with Mat.
Again.
His eyes are trained on the ground, refusing to meet yours. There are a thousand things you want to say, most of them not nice at all but what comes out is: “beer?”
His head shoots up, clearly not expecting that response from you but he nods his head and walks in when you step to the side. He toes off his shoes and walks straight towards the kitchen. By instinct, he opens the fridge to get himself a drink and then pauses, looking at you sheepishly.
“Beer?”
“Water,” you reply and he nods, passing you a bottle of water. You both sit at the kitchen island, drinking your respectable drinks in silence until he clears his throat.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t know that they were going to write that. Our public relations manager wrote it and just told me to post it. My agent asked her to clean things up a little because it was getting out of hand. I didn’t want to hurt you or Nora, I swear.”
“It’s too late for that,” you say sharply. “You said you want to be in Nora’s life but she can’t be a secret, Mat! You can’t say you want to try, and then turn around and tell the world that she’s not yours. If you’re not going to be in this one-hundred percent, then you shouldn’t be here at all.”
He must take your last statement as a dismissal because he stands up, slips his shoes on and leaves, closing the door a little harder than necessary.
You sit in silence far too long, part of you foolishly hoping that Mat will come back but you know he won’t. Not today at least. So, you go back to working on your draft but you can’t focus. Part of you wants to try and put yourself in his shoes, to try and understand why he didn’t fight harder against what public relations wanted but you can’t. You can’t imagine not being Nora’s mom and you wonder if maybe this is the way out he was hoping for. Maybe he decided that being a parent was fun for a little while, but when he understood the real consequences and struggles that come along with it, he realized he didn’t want it. That he didn’t want Nora.
Maybe this is his out.
tag list: @literatureluster @dasiysthings @barzyblogbabe @teapartydreams @diary-of-jj @heatherawoowoo @fallinallincurls @topguncultleader @shadowsndaisies @lovinbarzal
#hockey imagines#allies writing#nhl fanfiction#hockey fanfiction#nhl imagines#hockey imagine#mat barzal x reader#mat barzal imagine#mat barzal fic#mat barzal fanfiction#hockey fics#hockey fic
442 notes
·
View notes
Text
Wedding Season ☆ M. Barzal
note: wedding/off season with Mat. reader is also connor bedard's sister! Just something silly cause I miss Barzy and I'm bored! <3
matbarzal
liked by titobeauvillier, mattmartin and others.
matbarzal: Wedding season. Huge congrats to Mr. & Mrs. Bear.
view all comments
mattmartin: always the groomsman, never the groom
titobeauvillier: looking cozy👀
sydneymartin: the Prada tie. Nicely done @.ynbedard
ynbedard: thank you😙
user23: how am I supposed to live laugh love under these conditions?
user11: THAT SHOULD BE ME
user10: you're cheating on me?
barzyfan: I don't know what's funnier...the heartbroken comments or the confirmation that his girl dresses him😭
user17: are we all just ignoring the fact that she's connor bedard's sister? 🧍♀️
matbarzal: yes
connorbedard: yes
ynbedard
liked by connorbedard, matbarzal and others.
ynbedard: summer of love 🥰🌞
view all comments
ynbestfriend: hard hard launch
noahdobson: are we all still pretending we never knew they were together?
matbarzal: yes. Don't ruin my girl's hard launch.
noahdobson: wow. who could've guessed. congrats guys!
titobeauvillier: love you guys!
ynbedard: we love you beau🫶🏻
connorbedard: I will pay actual money to unsee this
owahlstrom: wow...so surprised
mattmartin: worst kept secret.
440 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sing Your Heart Out as Your Ex Watches || Mat Barzal
Summary: Singer!reader performing at the NHL All Star Game while their ex watches.
Word Count: 851
Warnings: jealousy from an unnamed ex who plays in the NHL, slight mention of said ex being a bad boyfriend (please let me know if you find any more that i should add)
Maleeha's Masterlist
a/n: this short little fic was inspired by this post by @islesnucks and was quickly written (busted it out in an hour)
this is gender neutral. hope you enjoy this! feedback is appreciated
LIKES ARE GREAT, REBLOGS ARE BETTER ♡
You were an up and coming singer, and was pretty well known in the hockey world. Growing up a hockey fan had a big influence in your life; your most famous music video included you wearing some hockey gear, grabbing the attention of hockey players, fans, and organizations.
You were already connected to the hockey world with your boyfriend, Mat Barzal, being a well known hockey player for the New York Islanders. Unfortunately, you were also connected to the hockey world through your ex... who also played in the NHL.
You had been broken up with your ex for two and a half years and you had been with Mat for a little over a year. You couldn't have been happier with Mat, he was everything your ex wasn't: sweet, respectful, kind to your family and friends, the list could go on and on. So when you were confirmed to be at the NHL All Star weekend before your boyfriend was, he couldn't have been prouder.
A few weeks later, the All Stars were announced and Mat's name was listed as one of the players; it was your turn to be proud of him. However, upon reading the list of players who would accompany Mat as All Stars, you frowned at the sight of your ex's name. You brushed it off as your joy that Mat was an All Star overpowered your sadness that your ex was also an All Star.
Since you were performing, you were listed as one of the four celebrity captains. You of course drafted your boyfriend as your first pick resulting in the fans, both yours and his, going wild in person and over social media. Your and Mat's names were all over social media the entire weekend with your ex's name sometimes following your names as he seemingly didn't even try to hide his jealousy that you were happily with Mat. Your ex's obvious jealousy didn't bother you at the time, you were secure in yourself and your relationship as was Mat.
Your and Mat's names appearing on social media only increased on the Saturday, when you were behind the bench that Mat sat upon. Clips of you strategizing play and semi-flirtatiously bossing Mat around were all over the tags relating to the both of you and the NHL All Star Game.
You were set to perform after the second game of the day before the third and final game of the day. At first, you were excited to perform, however, as the All Star weekend went by, you were increasingly getting nervous about performing in front of your ex. As you were getting ready with your backup dancers in the arena's home team locker room, you realized how un-ready you were to perform in front of him. Your backup dancers noticed your nervousness and one of them texted Mat that he needed to come to calm your nerves. Once Mat arrived, you didn't look his way as he expected, signaling that you were lost in your thoughts.
"Hi." He said after cautiously approached you and sitting next to you, worried that he would abruptly break you out of your thoughts.
"Hi." You repeated, a slight smile accompanying your greeting as you met his gaze.
"What's going on in that pretty head of yours?" He asked, gently grabbing your hands and holding them in his as if saying 'you can't avoid this conversation'.
"I have to perform in front of him." You didn't have to say his name for Mat to know that you were talking about your ex. "Him being here wasn't bothering me Thursday, or yesterday, or even earlier today, so I don't know why I'm worried."
"I do," You looked at Mat, confused as to how he knew, but you didn't. "You're worried because it's the first time you perform in front of him since you broke up with him. And I completely understand that." Mat paused, allowing you to talk if you wanted to, but your silence showed him that he could continue. "But you know what? He's been jealous this whole weekend. He can't stand how well you're doing for your singing career without him by your side."
"And he can't stand that I have a boyfriend who's better than him in every way." You added, causing Mat to giddily smile and blush. You took a deep breath, your hands still in Mat's, before adding, "I can do this."
"Now that's the positive self talk I want to hear!" Mat squeezed your hands before letting go, standing up to lean down and give you a chaste kiss on your lips. "I want you to go out there and sing your heart out while your ex watches. Relish in the glory because you've earned it."
"I have?" You asked, standing up in front of Mat.
"You have," he reassured. "and that's all your work that allowed you to get to this point." With one last kiss - the good luck kiss as Mat called it - he was gone, re-joining his NHL peers on the ice waiting for your performance of a lifetime.
——————————
NHL taglist: @readyfreddy @jostystyles @jimothystu @typical-simplelove @2manytabsopen @11livpangburn @matthewkniesys @lifeofpriya @fallinallincurls
join my taglist here
#maleeha writes#mat barzal#mathew barzal#mat barzal x reader#mathew barzal x reader#mat barzal imagine#mathew barzal imagine#mat barzal fanfic#mathew barzal fanfic#mat barzal fanfiction#mathew barzal fanfiction
272 notes
·
View notes
Text
how does it make you feel | mat barzal
[luvhughes43 masterlist🌙]
face claim: 3x grammy winner victoria monét <3
barzalsource13
liked by ynuser, and 457 others
barzalsource mat at ynuser album party last night!
tagged: barzal97
view all comments
user01 thats so strange why would he perform at yns album party?
user02 a bunch of her close friends, musicians, etc all performed! i just didnt know they knew each other lol omfg
user03 HE KNOWS YN??? OHH WE WON!
user04 he's a jaguar stan.. ohh i knew it!
user05 yn liking this?? since whennn
ynuser
liked by barzal97, arianagrande, tyla, and 439 002 others
ynuser thank u all for the love last night <3 remember to pre-save jaguar II which will be out next friday🐆🤎
view all comments
arianagrande in love with you !!!!!
arianagrande im screaming!! nobody is ready for this album
barzal97 you killed it last night!❤️🔥
liked by ynuser
user06 how tf does he know yn? im so confused...
user07 I LOVE YOU SM!!!
barzal97
liked by arianagrande, ynuser, titobeauvi91, and 41 125 others
barzal97 we look good 🐆
view all comments
taylaparx hottest couple
user08 THE JAGUAR EMOJI THATS LITERALLY YNS - AND THE CAPTION?? THATS ON MY MAMA LYRICS JUST ALTERED
user09 YN???????
user10 i wishhh
user09 ariana liked and thats her bff it must be yn
user11 WAIT GUYS SHE JUST LIKED*&#(&! ITS CONFIRMED IM SCREAMING!! THE FIRST PIC IS HIM AT HER ALBUM PARTY
ynuser
liked by barzal97, titobeauvi91, hallebailey, and 571 237 others
ynuser 2 more days till jaguar II is yours 🐆🤎🤎
view all comments
barzal97 counting down🐆
user12 AHH LITERALLY CANNOT WAIT <333
user13 WAIT THE SECOND SLIDE?? WHO IS THAT
user14 she posted a soft launch too%#^@*^^@&*
user14 mat and yn... he really won!
user15 mats comments on all her posts?? hes so down bad as he should be!
barzal97 just posted !
liked by ynuser, barzalsource13, and 378 912 others
barzal97 my baby released an album! everyone go stream jaguar II out on all platforms now!🐆🤎
tagged: ynuser
view all comments
ynuser love youu 🤎🤎
barzal97 im so fcking proud of you. this is your moment!! love you always!
titiobeauvi91 albums on repeat!
user16 HE CONFIRMED??? IM ON THE FLOOR
user17 MAT AND YN??? I MEAN WE BASICALLY KNEW BUT OMFG
user18 hottest couple omggggggg
ynuser
liked by barzal97, arianagrande, normani, and 421 091 others
ynuser how does it make you feel? to be loved for real? 🎶
tagged: barzal97
view all comments
barzal97 we were by design ❤️🔥
ynuser were aligned!🤎
hallebailey love you guys!!!
user19 best song off the album
user20 this album is insane. its been on repeat !
user21 my parents omfg i love them so bad
user22 my husband has a gf
user23 most unlikely but best couple🙏
5 months later...
barzalsource13
liked by trevorzegras, and 574 others
barzalsource13 mat seen leaving the beverly hilton hotel just in time for the grammy red carpet! we love a bf showing up for his girl!
tagged: barzal97
view all comments
user24 oh he looks so good
user25 yn will win all her awards tonight🕯🕯
user26 ohh thats boyfriendism right there!
ynuser just posted !
liked by barzal97, adutakech, alexialuria, and 671 921 others
ynuser words cant even describe this feeling... grammys 2024🏆🤎
view all comments
arianagrande tonights yours!🤍🫧
barzal97 my god... ❤️🔥
user27 U LOOK FINE! U LOOK GOOD! ON MY MAMA SOTY
user28 grammy nominated and future winner yn!
ynuser reposted !
barzal97 just posted !
liked by ynuser, barzalsource13, trevorzegras, and 239 781 others
barzal97 do i even need a caption? it was my girls motherfucking moment ❤️🔥
tagged: ynuser
view all comments
ynuser tonight is just unreal
barzal97 you deserve it all! tonights for you🥂
titobeauvi91 deserved every award 🔥
ny_islanders our shinning star💙✨
barzalsource13 AND SHE DID IT!! 3X GRAMMY WINNER YN
user29 barz dating a 3 grammy winning artist.. so real
user30 loveeee this and them
user31 im sobbing this is the best thing to ever happen to me
-
-
-
#mat barzal x reader#mat barzal imagine#mat barzal fanfiction#mat barzal fic#mat barzal blurb#mat barzal insta edit#nhl fanfiction#nhl imagine#nhl blurb#nhl fic#nhl insta edit
247 notes
·
View notes
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
#mat barzal x reader#mat barzal smut#mat barzal imagine#mat barzal x reader smut#mat barzal fluff#mat barzal comfort#mat barzal x reader fluff#mat barzal x fem reader#mat barzal x y/n#mathew barzal x reader#mathew barzal imagine#mat barzal fic#mat barzal fanfiction#mat barzal fan fiction#nhl x reader#nhl imagine#nhl smut#bro i fr fr projected abt my ex bf in this SO HARD#LMFAOAOOA#but. anyway.
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
love it if we made it - mat barzal
Pairing: Mat Barzal x OC (f)
Summary: Aurora Foster and Mat Barzal are friends. Sometimes with benefits, sometimes with unspoken feelings, but always with a little something extra. When they have the opportunity to close the cross-country gap between them, will they be able to overcome the skinny love and take their relationship to the next level?
Word Count: 9.2K
Author's Note: My first ever Barzal fic written for @thewintersoldierdisaster for @wyattjohnston's Winter Fic Exchange! You are such a talented writer and I really wanted to make this a good one - I hope I managed to get the Garden City details covered correctly. 😉 It was a blast to write for someone new even though I am still reluctantly slowly joining the Barzy train. Enjoy, my dear!
Thank you to @smileysvech, @pyotrkochetkov, @jostystyles, and @Demi for all of your help in brainstorming, editing, sending inspirational Barzy pics, and the usual general insanity. Couldn’t do it without y’all.
Also, just for the record, Mat has hair in this entire fic. No bald Barzy allowed.
Warnings: Mutual pining, angst, alcohol use (characters get drunk), Mat being a bit of a fuckboy. Smut (18+ ONLY); unprotected sex, general sexual tension/sexual themes.
Masterlist
July 2013 - Vancouver, British Columbia
The crackling of the fire melds with the gentle splash of waves on the shoreline, crickets chirping happily amid the cool summer breeze. Smoke billows up, wafting to a deep sky sparkling with stars, not a cloud in sight.
Aurora Foster watches the flames, absorbing the warmth on her legs. There’s a blue koozie on the armrest of her Adirondack chair, holding a Diet Coke. She allows herself to sink into the warm, worn cotton of her Burnaby Winter Club sweatshirt, sighing contentedly.
“Anyone want more pizza? I’ve gotta rock a piss.”
Rolling her eyes, Aurora scoffs as the rest of the group murmurs no’s. “Charming, Fabbs.”
The next voice that rings out is clear. “Anyone wanna go for a late night dip?”
“Yeah, I’ll go.” This time of night is Aurora’s favorite time for a swim, when the lake is all but glass and the water feels like a lukewarm bath; not warm, but certainly not cold after spending a day baking under a bright British Columbia sun.
There are no other takers, so she looks expectantly across the fire. His dark hair is shaggy, unkempt, air-dried after a day in the lake. His brown eyes lock with hers, and he jerks his head toward the dock with a grin. “Race you.”
Mat Barzal.
A name that holds the burden of promise. He’s going to be drafted in a few years, to the Show—and he’s going to be good. Not I’m just saying that because he’s my friend and I’m supposed to say that—no, he’s going to be good, potentially even great.
Here, though, he’s just Mat. He feels weird about the weight his name is starting to hold, not really knowing what to do with the slight level of fame. He’s made a vow to himself that whatever happens, he won’t let it get to him, won’t let it change the fabric of who he is—this guy, right here, feeling the warm breeze through his hair as sprints down the wooden dock, two smaller feet pattering rapidly behind him.
“You first,” he grins, gesturing toward the ladder.
“What if there’s a big monster waiting right there and it eats me?”
“I’ll jump in and save you,” he says, like there’s no hesitation. He glances down to double check that there is no actual sign of danger. Aurora doesn’t notice, her eyes also on the dark water, illuminated only slightly by the brightness of the moon.
“You promise?”
“I promise.” The way he says it is so sure that it actually comforts her for a split second, enough time for her confidence to reach the appropriate level to jump in with a splash.
Her body is immersed in cold for the briefest of seconds before she’s enveloped in warmth. The splash next to her tells her that Mat has joined her beneath the water. He rises to the surface a few moments later, letting out a scoff as he shakes out his hair.
“Shit. You like this?” he asks, swimming out toward the trampoline floating a few meters away.
“It’s nice!” she says, following him. “Refreshing.”
“It’s cold.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be a big macho hockey player?”
He ignores her with a roll of his eyes, rising back out of the water to climb the ladder to the trampoline. Aurora opts to swim around a while longer, feeling the weight of the water gliding over her skin. It’s nice, heavenly even, how the water makes her weightless.
When she approaches the trampoline, the blast of cool air against her wet skin makes her shiver, goosebumps instantly covering her body. Mat glances at her, sees the way her arms have wrapped around herself in an attempt to warm herself. He extends an arm, his own skin almost dry. “C’mere.”
His arm curls around her frame, warmth of him already heating her skin. He’s not sure if it’s his heart or hers that he can feel beating—maybe it’s both, beating in a steady, sure rhythm next to one another.
Aurora’s toes nudge his, the gesture comfortable and affectionate; a silent thank you.
June 2018 – Vancouver, British Columbia
By all accounts, it’s a normal Thursday evening in June; Aurora’s housemates are getting ready to go out to the bar—there are plugged-in curling irons, loose cans of hairspray, scattered makeup brushes all over the counter alongside an assortment of cups in varying stages of empty. A half-full fifth of Smirnoff is there too, the cap misplaced somewhere.
On any other occasion, Aurora would be right there with them, blasting Taylor Swift and chattering about if Brad will finally make a move on Carley. Tonight, though, she’s opted out in favor of spending the night on the couch in her favorite sweatpants. Just not feeling a bar tonight, she’d said.
The silence when the door finally closes behind her friends is almost deafening; she hadn’t realized how loud it was in the chaos of the pre-night-out ritual. With a contented sigh, Aurora plops down on the couch and tugs a blanket over her legs, opening Netflix and starting an episode of New Girl.
She's part way through her second episode and her first glass of wine when she gets the text.
[Mat:] what’s the play tn
Mat. Of course. He’s home for the summer now, back after his first year in Long Island, and recently returned from winning the Calder trophy. Aurora still had a hard time connecting that this Mat, the one that she’s known since they were 12, the one who she grew up hearing make stupid dick jokes with his friends, is the same one that just won Rookie of the Year in the National Hockey League.
Instead of typing out a message, Aurora snaps a photo of the wine glass in her hand and blanket in her lap with the TV in the background. It doesn’t take long for the response bubble to pop back up, and soon enough the whoosh of an incoming text sounds.
[Mat:] want some company?
Aurora’s heart freezes in her chest. She hasn’t spent any time alone with him since that sorority formal her sophomore year, the one she bribed him to attend with her so she wasn’t the only girl without a date. It was platonic—that didn’t even need to be discussed—and it had been nice to have a familiar figure by her side; it didn’t hurt that he was starting to make a name for himself in the hockey world as a top draft pick headed for the NHL.
What started as a simple, friendly night ended with her leg wrapped around his waist, leaning against the bathroom door of the venue, moaning his name. She didn’t know how they ended up there, but what she did know was that it was passionate, mind-boggling, life-altering sex.
At least, to her it was. He’d never mentioned it since.
At first, it lingered on the tip of her tongue every time he was around, waiting to be blurted out when the sinking confusion became too much to bear. But one month, two months, three months passed, with no recognition or acknowledgement that anything happened between them.
For a while, she began to believe that she’d dreamt it; that her mind conjured the hottest, dizziest, most viscerally real dream possible. But then she’d see his eyes flick to hers during the sex scene in a movie and feel the spark of electricity when his hand would brush hers. Just briefly, but enough for her to confirm that no, she didn’t imagine it all.
Needless to say, Aurora can’t help the rising suspicion at the seemingly random text. Surely, he couldn’t be thinking about one night years ago when he had the pick of any girl he wanted at his fingertips.
Before she can stop herself, she's typing ‘bring chocolate’ and soon, she hears her front door open. There’s a shuffle, the sound of shoes being shrugged off, before that handsome face is rounding the corner. His eyes land on her in an instant, a predatory gaze simmering behind an unassuming smile. In his hand is a plastic bag from which he fishes out a pack of peanut M&M’s, tossing them at her.
Aurora squeals, eagerly tearing open the packet and immediately tossing three into her mouth. After an expectant eyebrow raise from him, she heaves herself off the couch with a dramatic sigh and runs the short distance to him before launching into his arms.
“Thank you, Matty,” she says, voice muffled by the black Acme sweatshirt he’s wearing. He’s warm. And big—bigger than he was before he left for New York. “And congratulations.”
He hums a response, following her as she resumes her spot, this time making room for him beside her. “You didn’t want to go out tonight? Celebrate that enormous trophy?”
Mat shrugs, placing her feet in his lap and securing the blanket over both. “Could take it or leave it. Can’t leave you to be home alone and bored.”
She rolls her eyes and nudges his leg with her foot. “Shut up. You didn’t have to come over.”
“Honestly, I need a break after that media circus,” he confesses. “So much press, so many questions, so many pictures. It’s exhausting.”
Aurora nods understandingly, though she can only imagine being put on public display the way he is day in and day out, the attention only heightened now that he’s won the Calder. She’s seen the pictures, the articles, all of the buzz, feeling a slight tinge of jealousy—not of him, but that she has to share him with the rest of the world now.
Mat settles in, and casual conversation filters in amidst the episode, pausing at moments to hear the dialogue before another one of them is adding commentary or snorting at someone’s Instagram story. It’s so casual, so normal, his place beside her on the couch; like finally finding that one pivotal puzzle piece she’s been looking for for hours. He’s calm, relaxed, and once again she begins to wonder if she’s been creating something out of nothing this entire time. If the flood of nerves in her chest is an overreaction.
“You still seeing that frat guy? Tim, or whatever his name is?”
The question comes out of nowhere. Aurora can’t help but wonder if she detects a hint of jealousy.
“Was never really seeing him,” she replies, leaving a heavy pause, enough time for him to fill in the blanks. It’s true, but maybe she chose her words intentionally, curious to see if that lilt in his tone really was jealousy.
He doesn’t react much outside of a nod and an over-engineered nice, but she sees the very slight tick in his jaw. She resists the urge to roll her eyes, instead supplying, “You really gonna give me shit, Mr. Hot-Shot-NHL rookie?”
“Listen,” he grins, “it’s not my fault there’s a million single girls in New York.”
This time, Aurora does roll her eyes, if only to hide the sting she feels deep in her chest. She wouldn’t say she has feelings for Mat Barzal, but—well, it’s complicated. It’s always been there, buried deep beneath the surface, veiled as fond affection for a friend who’s grown by her side since they were 12.
“But none of them are as pretty as you.”
Aurora has to laugh, can’t help but laugh, rather than feel the discomfort that sinks in when she processes what he said. He’s always like this—these seemingly harmless, flirty comments—but those are the ones that keep his hooks latched into her, keeping her coming back for more, dangling by a single thread of hope.
“Don’t be a dick.”
“M’not. You’re so pretty it hurts.”
She moves to kick him—playfully, mostly—but his hand catches her foot in an instant. Before she has a chance to protest, barely processing the evil grin that hatches on his face, he’s tickling her arch. Aurora shrieks, legs flailing in protest, doing her best to scramble out of his grasp. Mat’s laugh is mirthful as his strong arms easily overpower her, hands moving to her hips to pin her to the couch.
“You’re gonna—” he pauses to wrestle her down, “—hurt yourself.”
“Fuck off,” she shouts playfully, hands shoving wildly at his hands in a weak attempt to stop him from tickling at her sides. “I—I hate you!”
In a flash, Aurora finds her arms pinned above her head, large hands pressed into her wrists. She shrieks again, but the laughter dies in her throat when she realizes he’s paused, hovering over her. Her legs stop their thrashing, breath caught in her throat while her heart thumps in her chest. She isn’t sure how long they sit like that, frozen in time, staring at one another; she wonders if he’s thinking the same thing she is, flashing back to the night spent inside the dimly lit bar bathroom.
And then he’s kissing her, desperate, his open mouth pressed against hers. It consumes her, the feeling of his lips, in a way that makes her wonder how she’s survived the last two years without his touch. The thought of stopping is unthinkable, unfathomable, unbearable.
Mat’s hand slides down her arm to cup her jaw, thumb brushing against her cheekbone while his tongue finds hers. With her now free hand, Aurora instinctively moves to run her fingers through his hair, soft and smooth. It’s long, long enough that she can wrap the locks around her knuckles, offering a firm hold that has him exhaling lowly against her mouth.
With just the simplest, subtlest move, Aurora’s flipped the switch inside of Mat that transforms him from doting, passionate lover to desperate and unrestrained. His lips pivot to nip at the base of her jaw, offering a subtle bite on his way down to her neck.
She can hear his heavy breath, feels it hot against her skin. His palm draws warmth up her side, rucking up her t-shirt to expose her bare stomach before his hand dives beneath the hem of the cotton to press flat against her ribcage. It’s shameful how quickly Mat can render her little more than a lolling, whimpering mess, back arched eagerly to chase his touch; she wants to kick herself for giving in so easily.
His hands move in tandem with his mouth, caressing, kneading, aiding her slow descent into madness. When he tugs the cotton over her head, grateful there’s no bra impeding his view, Mat swoops down to her breasts like a starving man getting his first taste of food; with a groan, his tongue swipes over a pebbled nipple.
Aurora’s afraid to say his name, afraid that if she calls attention to the moment, he’ll snap out of it and stop.
And she can’t have that.
Hands roam, chased by hot breath and wet kisses, until she’s all but naked on her living room couch, as if she lives alone and doesn’t have roommates that could come home at any given moment.
He doesn’t even bother to take her panties off, instead ripping them to the side and wetting his tip with her slick, teasing her folds for just a moment.
Mat pauses at her entrance, breath heavy in his chest. His eyes trail up to hers, and Aurora’s heartbeat ticks, afraid he’s going to change his mind right now, when she needs him more than she’s ever needed anything in her life.
And then his eyes slink over her body with a smirk, admiring her breasts, her curves, the way her legs have wrapped around his hips—when did that happen? Mat’s dick twitches when he realizes he has nowhere to go but inside the dripping wet cunt in front of him, perfect and tempting and waiting to be filled up. He lets the low groan rumble in his chest while his lips return to the spot he sucked into her neck.
“Fuck, baby, you’re so pretty like this,” he murmurs against her skin. “Always think of you like this.”
Mat waits for only a moment, so brief that it flits by almost unnoticed, before he’s pushing in with a low groan. Aurora gasps at the sensation, infinitely better than everything her imagination conjures when her fingers slip between her thighs at night. Nothing replicates the feeling of him buried to the hilt inside her wet heat.
“How long you been thinkin’ ‘bout this, sweetheart?” he rasps once he grows accustomed to the way she squeezes him. “Been thinkin’ ‘bout you for a long time.”
Aurora’s fingers settle into the dip of his shoulders, breasts pressed into his chest. She tries to answer, but all that comes out is a moan. How can he expect her to speak when his hips are punching into her like they’re getting paid for it?
He’s smug at the way he’s rendered her speechless, entranced by the way she feels. Sensing he might not make it long, Mat focuses on his rhythm, finding the one that has her nails scratching down his back so he’ll have a perfect reminder of her wrapped around his dick.
When her moans escalate, he brings a hand between their bodies, watching the way her eyes flutter shut when he rubs at her clit. “Bein’ so good and so pretty for me, ‘Ror. Wanna feel you squeezin’ me while you come.”
She likes when he talks, judging by the way her breath hitches and her cunt tightens, so he keeps talking, muttering pretty, filthy somethings in her ear while he circles her clit. Before long, his whispers are covered by the sound of her crying out his name—she sounds the same as she did two years ago, sweeter this time now that he knows what she feels like when she comes.
Later, when he slips out into the night, Aurora presses her fingers against the hickey on her neck, memorizing the feeling of his lips against her skin.
July 2019 - Vancouver, British Columbia
Aurora takes a seat in the chiavari chair beside Gina, offering Dante a wave. A string quartet plays softly, ushering in wedding guests taking their seats before the ceremony. She’s there more out of obligation to the Fabbros, the bride a cousin of theirs that she’d grown up with, too.
Mat sidles in far too close to the start of the ceremony, plopping himself into the seat next to Aurora. He bumps shoulders with her, offering a grin when she mouths “hi” as the precessional begins.
The ceremony is sweet, the food is excellent, and Aurora can’t help but tear up at the best man’s speech during dinner. Afterwards, everyone is on the dance floor, moving and grooving to a Bruno Mars mashup.
Everyone except two people.
Outside of the tent, Mat and Aurora are sitting on a bench, watching the sunset. Not feeling this song, Mat had murmured to her before jerking his head toward the tent opening, and who was she to say no to accompanying her friend to take in a Vancouver sunset?
“You think you’ll do all this?” The question is abrupt but curious, like his mind had been wandering and he blurted it out as soon as it appeared in his head.
“What? A wedding?”
He nods, gesturing around. “Yeah. You know, the flowers, the fuckin’… doilies, and shit.”
Aurora’s eyebrow raises as she hides a smile. “Do you even know what a doily is?”
“No, but it feels like something that would be here,” he says with a shrug. Dante’s loud laughter echoes from inside, piercing the quiet reprieve from the music.
A few moments pass, the silence comfortable. “Yeah, I think I’d like to get married someday. Do the whole thing. No doilies, though.”
Mat snorts, nudging her knee with his. “Wonder what the guy's gonna be like.”
Aurora considers for a moment. In the few minutes they’ve been outside, the sun has slipped beneath the horizon, its dim, fading light still splaying out from behind the trees. Dusk looks good on him, she thinks. “He’s gonna get me flowers. And take care of me when I’m drunk. And he’s gonna be really, really good looking.”
Mat hums, impressed. “Damn. Sounds like a catch.”
“Duh. I’m a catch,” she says, to which Mat nods in agreement. “How about you?”
“She’s gonna have a great rack,” he replies, grinning so wide he almost ruins the delivery of the joke before he’s doubling over. Aurora snorts but joins him in laughter with a playful smack to the shoulder.
Inside the tent, the DJ makes some announcement that Aurora only half hears—something about grabbing a loved one. Mat extends a hand, smiles wide, and she ignores the thump of her chest as she slips her fingers against his palm.
The anticipation pangs in her chest as he leads her to the dance floor. She feels a sliver of apprehension as he turns to face her, placing his hands respectfully on her waist. Instantly, there’s a flash of the night on the couch, of his lips against her skin; if he’s thinking about it, too, he doesn’t show any outward indication.
Any trace of discomfort dissipates once she gives in to his gravitational pull, hands lacing together behind his neck. He’s strong, sturdy, solid—the way he’s always been, ever-present and a constant in her life since she was 12. His eyes are warm, enveloping Aurora in his gaze until she forgets that there’s anyone else around.
They sway through the remainder of the song, and when notes begin to slow, she finds herself wishing it would last longer. Fortunately, almost like the DJ is privy to her thoughts, the beat picks up, slow song melding into something more upbeat. Mat blinks, the bubble surrounding them popping unceremoniously. He can’t bring himself to let Aurora go, not when she feels so right in his arms.
With a dramatic pull, Mat spins her around, hand supporting her back as he dips her backwards. Aurora squeals, hand clutching onto his as her footing almost loses balance. Laughter bubbles out of her throat as Mat pulls her back upright, his eyes glowing with amusement. Suddenly, he’s looking to do anything to keep hearing that sound.
It takes a truly revolting love song for them to finally leave the dance floor, beelining toward the bar in search of liquid refreshment and a break. The rest of the evening is easy, full of elation and conviviality, the kind of night that makes your cup overflow and runneth over.
That night, when Aurora slips into bed tipsy at 2AM with a contented sigh, she falls asleep dreaming of brown eyes and a crooked smile.
December 2022 – New York, New York
When Mat saw the text informing him that Aurora had a job interview for a Software Engineering Lead at TekStack in New York, he offered up his spare bedroom before she could even tell him the date. It would be a waste of money to stay at a hotel when he had an apartment he barely used, he said, and she could make a long weekend out of it and he’d show her around Long Island.
The grin on Mat’s face grows the instant he sees her, a gray coat draped over her arm as she wheels her carry-on behind her. He opens his arms and she falls into them, the way she has a hundred times. “Welcome to New York.”
“—it’s been waiting for you!”
“Set you up for that on purpose,” he says, offering to take her bag. “You hungry?”
“Starving,” she replies. “But I really want to get the airplane off me first. Maybe takeout for tonight?”
Mat smiles. “Say no more. I know exactly the place.”
A few hours later, Aurora is seated at Mat’s counter, a spread of styrofoam across the quartz. Her suit is hanging in a garment bag on the back of the door to the guest bedroom, waiting to be pressed before her interview. It’s so familiar, the fondness, the sense of comfort, the shared laughter over a plate—or several—of food, but it’s no longer Dante’s family’s lakehouse or the Barzal family’s finished basement. This time, it’s Mat’s fancy apartment in Garden City, the rent alone more than what Aurora makes in a month.
But it’s still the same Mat sitting across from her. Same crooked smile, same easy laughter, same silly, unabashed personality. Admittedly, she was anxious wondering about how things would be; they’d hung out plenty over the summer, kept in touch via the group chat, but their one-on-one time had been limited the last few years.
Despite the apprehension, Aurora is surprised at how quickly they shake off the rust, barely needing any recoil time before it feels like old times. Of course, the camaraderie and pleasantries aren’t nearly enough to build up an immunity to his gray Lululemon sweatpants or the peek of his sculpted Adonis belt when he raises his arms in a lazy stretch. She wasn’t sure how she’d feel when she saw him, but she reluctantly accepts the steady beat of her heart in her chest that tells her her crush is, in fact, still holding strong.
They stay up chatting far longer than Mat anticipated, bedtime delayed even further when he offers to help her prepare for her interview, shrugging with a, I’m not tired anyway—anything to spend just a little more time with her. He Googles ‘Top Interview Questions’ and spends over an hour posing them to her, letting her work through how she’d answer each. Admittedly, he had never really had much practice in the way of a job interview outside of the pre-draft conversations he’d had with various NHL GM’s, but he had more than enough experience at preparing for an onslaught of questions—and how to shake off the nerves beforehand.
“The thing I’ve learned most is to be concise,” he says, thinking back to when he first did NHL-mandated media training. “Don’t be afraid to take a few seconds after the question to think through what you want to say. That helps so you don’t ramble.”
“Don’t ramble. Got it.”
“And listen to some boss bitch music that hypes you up on your way in. It makes a difference. I promise.”
Aurora raises an eyebrow. “I’m gonna need to know what type of ‘boss bitch’ music you’re listening to pre-game, Barzal.”
“Megan Thee Stallion is my top preference,” he says with a grin, “but if you tell anyone that, I’ll deny it and say Drake.”
“Any last expert advice for me?”
“Get a good night’s sleep,” he says, then glances at his phone at the mention of the time. “Which means we’re about two hours behind schedule. Let’s get you to bed.”
Mat offers to carry her bag to the guest bedroom—decorated straight out of a West Elm catalog—and Aurora thanks him before bidding him good night. After changing into her pajamas, she quickly shakes off the urge to pad down the hallway and slip into Mat’s bed with him, reminding herself that that isn’t why she’s here.
Instead, she settles into the soft sheets, feeling herself slipping right back into the old, familiar flutter in her chest.
—
Serendipitously, the scheduling worked out perfectly: the interview was Friday at 1PM, and the Islanders hosted the Predators on Friday night at 7PM, which meant Dante would be in New York and around for post-game dinner, drinks, and a little mid-season reunion for the trio of friends. Aurora shook away the feeling that fate was somehow intervening.
Friday morning arrives, and Mat has morning skate, so he wishes her good luck with a tight hug before he shoves a protein bar in his mouth on his way out the door. For good measure, he sends a string of emojis (💪👩🏽💼✅💰) once he arrives at the rink, hoping they’ll give her an extra boost of confidence.
Practice is relatively easy, more of the opportunity to move his body and run through some plays—nothing intense, preserving energy for the actual game. He’s thankful for a pretty painless practice as his mind continually floats to Aurora, wondering how her interview went. Mat isn’t quite sure why he feels so invested in her landing this role until he realizes that if she gets it, she’ll be moving to New York.
“Barzy, you trying to go out after the game?” Oliver asks across the locker room. Mat’s tugging on a pair of sweatpants, fresh from his post-practice shower.
“He can’t,” Matt pipes in with a lopsided grin. “His girl is here.”
Mat groans, pressing a hand to his face as he points a middle finger in Marty’s direction. Next thing he knows, the chirps and wolf whistles fill the room and he feels Pierre aggressively nudge his shoulder.
“A girl?”
“Yeah, the hot brunette. Total smokeshow,” Casey fills in for him.
“Woof woof, Barzy!”
“Get it, Matty B!”
“Fuck off,” Mat huffs, a dismissive hand directed at no one in particular. “She’s not my… girl.”
“She stayin’ at your place?” Dobson asks. “Gonna be at the game tonight?”
Mat nods, earning another chorus of whistles. He rolls his eyes as he tosses his gloves and practice jersey in the bin, ignoring the no pre-game sex jokes (“Can’t play 3 periods if you’ve already played one in the sheets”).
“If she’s not your girl, I’m definitely gonna make a move, then.”
“Fuck off, Dobber.”
—
Aurora arrives home from the interview to find a jersey folded on the bed, along with a handwritten note–thought you might want to have something to rep the home team. She sends back a text to Mat to thank him and respond to his inquiry about the interview before setting off to change and make her way to UBS.
The game is disappointing, if you’re an Islanders fan. But while Aurora is sporting the blue and orange jersey, she’s waiting excitedly for a Nashville Predator to meet her in the designated area Mat directed her to.
When he rounds the corner, hair still wet from his shower, she runs up to him and leaps into his arms. Dante grins as he embraces her in a tight hug. “Feel stupid now for wearing the wrong colors tonight, huh?”
“I have to support my host,” she says with an eye roll.
The host in question appears as if he’s been summoned, moving to hug his old friend, but not before his eyes drag over the 13 on Aurora’s arm. The three of them together just feels right, the dynamic shifted—but complete.
Once they’ve been seated at a high top in a bar in Rockville Centre, Dante turns to Aurora. “‘Ror, how was the interview?”
“It went great,” she grins, accepting the fist bump Dante offers her. “I aced the coding exercise.”
“You’re such a badass. I picture you like one of those hackers in the movies.”
Aurora snorts, shaking her head. She thanks the waiter who places her drink in front of her. “It’s not really like that, but thanks.”
Conversation flows easily amongst the trio–only one comment from Dante razzing Mat for the 4-1 loss–and eventually the food arrives, along with another round of drinks.
“So… you really gonna join us and become a Yank?” Dante probes over his meal.
“To be honest, I don’t even know if I’d accept it,” she says quietly. Mat watches the way her lip disappears between her teeth as she contemplates; he doesn’t envy the gargantuan decision that lies ahead of her. “It’s a big move to make.”
As dense as he knows he can sometimes be, Mat recognizes this as a pivotal opportunity for him to share his own experience moving across the continent. He doesn’t have much in the way of advice, the distance something he just grew accustomed to in time, but he knows what it’s like; feeling the divide between him and the rest of his life like a bruise that won’t quite heal, the precious few-hour window where phone calls and texts make 5,000 kilometers feel like 10.
In so many words, he tells her so, aided by Dante’s supporting murmurs in a rare serious moment. Aurora absorbs it, if nothing else, comforted by the fact that they understand—kind of. It’s a little different moving cross-continent when you’re going to make millions of dollars, but money certainly doesn’t make the distance less of a burden to carry.
“FaceTime is your best friend,” Dante says, and Mat nods in agreement.
“Oh, is that why I get one FaceTime from you every two months?” she sticks her tongue out at Dante. Mat makes a mental note to FaceTime her more often. If she moves to New York, he won’t have to.
“No, that’s ‘cause you’re not my best friend,” Dante jokes, and Aurora scoffs playfully, eyes rolled in annoyance.
Sensing the end of the semi-serious moment, Mat stands up. “Gotta rock a piss.”
“Charming, Barz.”
Dante watches Mat’s retreating figure, eyeing the brown locks until they disappear down the hallway toward the restrooms. His gaze moves to Aurora’s, lowering his head conspiratorially. “Is something happening?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You two. You seem… different.”
Aurora’s eyebrows raise. “Different how?”
“Just… different,” Dante shrugs, then takes another swig of his drink. “It’s not like everyone doesn’t know you’ve been in love with each other forever.”
Jaw dropping in shock, Aurora feels her face suddenly get very hot. “That’s not true!”
“Oh, I didn’t realize we were still in denial,” he says, feigning self-defense and fighting a smile. “My bad. I’ll go back to trying to ignore the way you googly eyes each other.”
“I do not make googly eyes at him!”
“Man, ‘Ror, that acceptance is really buried deep down in there, huh?” Dante grins, dodging the french fry she launches in his direction. Then, he’s back to serious—kind of. “I know it’s a big leap to take when you’ve been friends for so long, but you haven’t been subjected to seeing the way you look at each other. I wish you’d just make out already. It’s disgusting.”
Aurora doesn’t have the heart to tell him they’ve already done far more than make out—multiple times—and part of her is relieved that Mat never divulged that information to his best friend despite every opportunity to. This way, it’s their little secret, something for just the two of them to have.
Mat’s return effectively ends the conversation. They pay their tabs—Aurora ignores Dante’s pointed look when Mat picks hers up without a word—and make their way to the next bar.
Several hours and far too many Palomas later, Mat unlocks the door to his apartment. He struggles slightly under the stumbling weight of Aurora, who’s latched onto him as she drunkenly giggles. He’s not much better off, but the Uber ride sobered him up enough to think to order DoorDash, conveniently arriving a few minutes after they get in the door.
Coaxing her to eat is a bit of a struggle, but he finally manages to get her into a barstool, munching contentedly on chicken tenders.
“C’mon, ‘Ror,” he murmurs once he sees she isn’t going to finish the third tender. He wraps an arm around her waist, helping her out of the seat to stand her up. “Let’s get you to bed, yeah?”
“Carry me!”
Without any additional warning, she’s leaping into his arms. Mat lets out an oof but manages to secure her in his arms as he carries her to the guest bedroom. When he places her on the mattress, her legs don’t untangle from his waist, and Mat feels the near instant pulse in his groin. Aurora’s eyes are closed, but her hips move, subtly, and he allows himself to revel in the feeling of her brushing against him. It doesn’t take long for his dick to become hard as steel, aided massively by the soft, sleepy whimpers that leave Aurora’s throat.
“Matty,” she whispers, hands seeking out the dips in his biceps.
Mat wants nothing more than to throw caution to the wind and devour her like he’s been aching to from the moment he saw a glimpse of her in a towel coming out of the shower this morning. He’s got just enough booze in his system to cloud his judgment, hand trailing up her side and savoring the warmth of her body against his palm. His dick twitches in his pants when he glides a hand over Aurora’s breast, yearning to tug the cups of that stupidly sexy corset down to repeat his fantasy.
But he doesn’t.
Instead, he summons every single ounce of self-restraint left in his body and tears himself away from her tempting frame. Much to his chagrin, Aurora lets out the most devastating, disappointed mewl and Mat swears he can feel his heart (and dick) shatter at the sound.
“‘Ror,” he whispers. “We can’t.”
“Why not? S’not like we’ve never… done it before,” she slurs, reaching to run her hands across his pecs. He indulges in the feeling for just a brief moment, his resolve fleeting with every second.
“Not like this.”
“Y-you—” she hiccups, then frowns when he gently takes her hands off of him, “—you don’t… want me.”
“No,” Mat says quickly. He’s pretty sure she won’t remember in the morning, but if she does, he wants her to remember this. “I do. But I don’t want it to be like this.”
“Only wore this so you’d take it off,” she murmurs, and Mat groans, the devil on his shoulder whispering very strong reasons why he should give into temptation.
Ultimately, the good guy in him wins the battle, ignoring the throbbing of his dick when he helps Aurora to shimmy off her skintight leather pants. He does his best to avoid staring at the flimsy scrap of fabric between her thighs and pretends not to notice how little it covers. Her body is almost entirely dead weight as he tries to figure out how to remove her corset, eventually tugging it over her head; her breasts fall free, and he chokes on his own spit as he desperately looks around for something to cover her with.
Dashing to his room, he grabs a t-shirt—only a little bit intentionally selecting an Islanders tee in order to see her wearing his colors again; on his way back, he pours a glass of water and grabs a bottle of Advil from the bathroom. When he returns, Aurora’s breathing is heavy and she’s lying in the same position he left her in, finally asleep.
Mat places the water on the nightstand, then notices her phone and plugs it into the charger. Gently, he slides the t-shirt over her head and maneuvers her arms through the sleeves, then situates her and tucks her in before pulling the blanket up to her chin. With a kiss on her forehead, Mat quietly steps back to return to his room, ready to palm himself off, the image of her tiny panties and her tits seared into his brain.
Just before he shuts the door, he hears a quiet whisper of his name, a soft Matty in the darkness. He pauses, waiting for her to speak again.
“Stay.”
Something in her voice makes his heart ache. He stands, frozen in place, hesitant to return to her; afraid that he won’t have the willpower to resist her if she makes a move again. Like an unruly stepchild, his dick throbs as he adjusts himself.
“Please?”
Her voice is so sweet, he can’t help himself. His feet move of their own accord, back to the bed before he’s crawling under the covers beside her. Aurora’s arm immediately wraps around his stomach, snuggling into the crook of his shoulder. As he listens to her dozing off, Mat pretends it’s the alcohol that blankets his heart with warmth and not the girl sleeping soundly in his arms.
—
Bright light wakes her first. There’s a few, beautiful seconds of peace before the throbbing begins.
Aurora groans loudly, hand flying to shield her eyes. Timidly, she stretches her legs out slowly, to avoid the wave of searing pain through her skull. She has a memory of Mat’s hands touching her, dragging their way up her body, but she can’t decide if that was real or just a dream. Judging by the empty space next to her in bed, she assumes it was a dream.
She gropes for her phone on the bedside table—thankful that she had the foresight to plug in her phone in her inebriated state—and opens Instagram. Dante’s green Close Friends story bubble is one of the first she sees. The video that lies within makes her groan: it’s Aurora, illuminated by the dim, disco lights of the bar they ended up at in Rockville Centre, making an absolute fool of herself dancing. If you can even call it dancing. It’s more like a series of unhinged, discombobulated movements that barely follow the pulse of the music playing over the speakers.
But Mat Barzal is in the background, watching her like she put the stars in the sky. His eyes are warm, and the smile on his face is soft, relaxed; a look of adoration. Of love.
[Gina:] Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you and Mat?
[Gina:] Dude is looking at you like you just birthed his firstborn on Dante’s story
[Gina:] Wait, he didn’t knock you up, did he?
Aurora snorts at the texts from her pseudo-sister.
[Aurora:] Funny enough, your brother asked me the same thing
[Aurora:] And no, he did not knock me up
[Gina:] Still waiting on the answer to my first question
Aurora is halfway through typing a message (“I’ll call you when I get home”) when she hears the front door open and close. A few seconds later, there’s a gentle knock at the door before a messy-haired Mat pokes his head in. “G’morning, sunshine.”
She groans, throwing the blanket over her head in an attempt to shield herself. “Can you stop yelling?”
He laughs, and though it’s lovely, the sound pierces her brain with a fiery stake. “So you don’t want me to tell you there’s bagels in the kitchen?”
Aurora peeks her head out from under the comforter. “Bagels, you say?”
“Bagel sandwiches,” he corrects. “Best on Long Island.”
Contemplating for a moment, Aurora glances at the glass of water on the nightstand, along with the two Advil sitting by it. He must have put them there this morning. She downs then, throws on a sweatshirt, and trudges into the kitchen behind Mat.
Aurora is convinced the bagel sandwiches have magic in them, reinvigorating her brain and hitting just the right spot. The two of them chew in silence for a while, Mat choosing to give her a few minutes to come back to life.
When he senses the medication might have kicked in, he speaks, slowly. He isn’t sure why he’s feeling so nervous. “Are you sure you have to go back today?”
She laughs and nods. “Sadly, I do have to get back to my actual job that I haven’t quit yet.”
“Just saying, you can come and be my roommate–free of charge. You just gotta do the dishes and help with a little laundry.”
Aurora’s eyebrow raises, taking a long sip of the hot mug of coffee he’d placed in front of her ten minutes ago. “So you want a live-in maid?”
“Well, when you say it like that…” Mat trails off with a laugh. “Really though. When are you supposed to hear back?”
“They just said in a couple weeks,” she shrugs. Only a few more weeks before life could change forever.
Something in their goodbye is different; a little bit timid, maybe even hesitant, but neither call it to attention. Mat gives her a squeeze in the departures lane, wishing her a safe flight, and Aurora promises to keep him updated on the job.
He watches her slip between the sliding doors, watching her figure retreat until he can’t see her anymore.
January 2023 — Vancouver, British Columbia
Aurora huffs, blowing the hair out of her eyes as she concentrates on her phone in her hand. She types, deletes, then re-types her message.
I got the job.
Her finger hovers over the button to send, heart pounding. She doesn’t know why she’s nervous, not exactly, but she knows there’s a lot of weight behind those four words, knows that they have the potential to change everything. For her. For him. Everything.
[Mat:] Congratulations! Told you you’d kill it. 😊
The text is followed by a gif of Buddy the Elf, and Aurora almost snorts at the stupidity of it. She takes a breath, almost… disappointed? If nothing else, she was expecting a bit more excitement, more fanfare.
Aurora presses down on the message and gives it a thumbs up.
Three hours later, she’s on the phone with Gina, gushing over the excitement of her job offer. She hasn’t even accepted it, but she’s still wistfully dreaming of how she might decorate her Manhattan apartment, anticipating the charm—among other things—of being in the greatest city in the world.
Gina senses Aurora’s hesitation before she even says anything. “But…”
“…but if I go, I’m pretty sure I’m going to get my heart broken.” She can hear Gina contemplating on the other line, probably debating how to deliver her latest blow of hard-hitting advice.
Gina’s next sentence is quiet, but confident. “You just need to talk to him, ‘Ror.”
“I know.”
Aurora’s phone buzzes, but it isn’t until she gets off the phone with Gina a few minutes later that she sees the second text appear on her screen.
[Mat:] so, we gonna do this?
[Aurora:] do what?
She watches the text bubbles appear, then disappear. The seconds feel like an eternity before a FaceTime call is popping up, a photo of 17-year-old Mat with upside down sunglasses on. Sliding to answer, she’s greeted by the sight of Mat, arm resting behind his head, silver chain peeking out of the hem of his white t-shirt. His hair is ruffled, and he’s looking at the camera with a knowing smirk.
“You and me,” he says simply. It takes Aurora a few moments to realize he’s responding to her text—and a few more before she realizes what he’s saying.
“You–are you—what?”
“You know, give it the old college try.” He offers a cheeky shrug of his shoulders, a flash of his charming smile.
“Mat, are you asking me out?”
“Were you expecting a grand proposal with roses and champagne?”
She ignores his snigger, too frenzied to acknowledge his sarcastic quip. Instead, she opts to get to the real question she has burning a hole in her chest. “Where is this coming from?”
“I’ve been waiting for a chance with you since we were 15, ‘Rora. Jus’ never had one ‘til right now.”
Aurora’s jaw drops, words completely absent from her brain. This was everything she’d wanted to hear for the better part of a decade, and here he is, as casual as if he was asking her to pass the salt at the dinner table.
Mat’s waiting for a response, so she shakes off the surprise and does her best to gather her composure. She isn’t sure what to feel: elated, irritated, and skeptical, and everything in between. “And you never thought to tell me you felt this way?”
He shrugs. “Jus’ did, didn’t I?”
Aurora resists the laugh at the simplicity of his Boy Brain. “Mathew Michael Paul Barzal, if you are fucking with me and this is some shit idea of a joke—”
“Why would I joke about something like that?” he says, then a glint takes over in his eyes. “I would like to be fucking you, though.”
An exasperated sigh leaves her throat, though she begrudgingly notes the way her stomach flips at his statement. “Can you not do—that—for five minutes, please? This is a lot of information to take in.”
Mat hums an apology, not really sorry. He watches the way she puts her phone down, his view now the slowly spinning ceiling fan in her apartment bedroom. He can hear the sigh, the sound of her feet padding slowly on the hardwood floor–pacing.
“I’m serious, Aurora.” He announces it out, loudly, maybe a little more formally than he expected.
Her forehead peeks over the camera, frizzy, unstyled post-shower waves falling over her face. “Fuck, Mat.”
“You could come live with me in Garden City,” he says. “Take the subway in on the days you go into work. Could set up an office for you in the den.”
“Mat, I’m not fucking moving in with you when I don’t even know what this is,” she says, exasperated, ignoring the thought he’s clearly put into it all. She hears the words he’s saying, but after almost a decade of missed connections, crushed hopes, and mixed messages, she’s hesitant to really take them to heart. It’s a defense mechanism, not willing to trust him even though she’s pretty sure he’s serious. “Do you realize how insane you sound?”
“M’not,” he says, shakes his head for emphasis. “It’s always been you, Ror.”
At that, Aurora has to sit down, the weight of the words smacking her clean in the chest. She can feel the magic, the warmth, the fuzzies enveloping her heart, ready to soar into the clouds at what he’s saying. At the same time, she’s confused, uncertain, maybe a little angry. More frustrated than mad, really, but she knows she deserves an explanation all the same.
“Why haven’t you said anything this entire time? It’s been years, Mat. I’ve loved you since we were fifteen—waiting this whole time to hear you say this, to give me any fucking clue that maybe you felt the same way.”
He looks like a puppy who has been scolded for destroying a roll of toilet paper. Then, “You think I don’t want to be with you?”
“You never gave a sign. You never even acknowledged what happened between us.”
It’s the first sign of any remorse when Mat sighs, his eyes cast down from the camera. “I—I thought it was casual. We’ve lived so far apart I just thought—”
“—thought it wasn’t worth it?”
“No,” he says quickly, looking up to meet her gaze. ��I thought you wouldn’t want to do it. The distance.”
“Thought you regretted it,” she admits. Her voice is so quiet Mat barely hears it.
“Regret sleeping with the girl I’ve been in love with since I was in high school? Yeah, okay,” he snorts. “My only regret is that we haven’t been doing it all this time.”
Aurora hums, overwhelmed by his confession—if you can call it that—and the influx of feelings that have inundated her chest. What he’s saying makes sense, in a twisted, boy-math kind of way.
“What does being—” she swallows the word girlfriend like a disgusting cough syrup. “—together look like?”
“Whatever you want it to look like.”
“What do you want it to look like?”
Mat hums. He thinks, envisions what calling Aurora his girl—for real, not just when he’s getting razzed by his teammates–would look like. A picture of waking up with her in his arms, sleepy and smiling. Eating takeout on the couch, her feet in his lap, sporting one of his t-shirts while they catch up on Succession. Seeing her in the stands at UBS, wearing his number on her back. Laughter, comfort, happiness. Home.
In other words, the entire weekend he spent with her.
“Don’t say something stupid like, ‘unlimited sex’,” she adds, the dreamy smile on his face alerting her to the idea that some of his thoughts may, perhaps, be unsavory.
“Wasn’t gonna,” he replies, “but now that you mention it…”
“I’m going to hang up.”
“I’m just joking, ‘Ror. I mean, don’t get me wrong, that would be top of my list. But you gotta know that you’re way more to me than just great tits and a fat ass.”
“Mat!”
“Okay, okay, sorry,” he says, holding a hand up as if to defend himself from her scathing tone. Aurora’s eyes roll and she scoffs, though Mat swears he sees the corner of her lip turn up just slightly. “I’d… want it to look exactly like this.”
Aurora blinks, not expecting such a simple answer—not that she had any idea of what to expect out of his mouth, ever. The concept that they’re already there, minus the labels, is… overwhelming. A little bit unnerving, because everything that flicks through her mind just feels like more and more evidence that he’s right. Dante, Gina, everyone else saw it—she’d just been blind to it the whole time.
“So,” he says slowly, afraid to pop her thought bubble. “What d’you say?”
“Wish you were here and not on FaceTime,” she mumbles, embarrassed at the vulnerability that slips out.
“I’ll get a flight to Vancouver right now, if it helps.”
Aurora smiles melancholy, and it tastes bittersweet. She knows he’s serious, would be by her side as soon as humanly possible, if she asked. But she also knows his influence will only sway her in one direction, and she needs to make sure she’s making an unbiased decision.
“Ror?”
“I–I need some space, okay?”
“I’ll be here when you’re ready.”
—
The next week is a blur, a mess of emotions and running through the same scenarios in her head over and over again. Aurora sits at the countertop on FaceTime with Gina, dissecting the options for what feels like the thousandth time.
“I don’t know what he doesn’t understand about space but this sure isn’t it,” she says, glancing at the bouquet of flowers sitting in a pretty—and expensive—glass vase.
“I think it’s sweet,” Gina insists. “Besides, we all know he isn’t the smartest.”
“It feels like he’s pressuring me, Gin,” Aurora says.
Gina rolls her eyes. “So he wants to show you he cares after years of burying his feelings. Sue the guy, why don’t you?”
Dusting a crumb off of the kitchen counter, scrolling through the relocation document TekStack had sent her along with her offer, Aurora sighs. Gina’s right; other than the flowers, he’d cooled it on everything else, and she missed it—the stupid memes, the goofy texts, the random (and gross) Snapchat series of him peeing in different cities. Missed him.
“Can’t wait to visit you. Keep the sex to a minimum while I’m in the guest bedroom, ‘kay?”
“Shut up!”
February 2023 — New York, New York
Mat fidgets, wiping his hands on his sides before glancing at his watch for the 16th time in five minutes. 3:17pm. Any minute now.
When he sees her coming down the catwalk, he doesn’t think twice; his strides quicken, along with the tick of his heart, and his fingers itch in anticipation. When he reaches her, he ignores the look of surprise on her face, hands cupping her jaw and pulling her mouth to his in a kiss that takes her breath away.
“I love you,” he says breathlessly when she pulls away, an expression of pure shock on her face. “Should’ve been telling you that for years. Please, please, please be mine. For real.”
The corners of Aurora’s lips twitch before they curl into a smile, and Mat has to resist the urge to kiss her again before she can even answer.
“Thought you said you weren’t gonna do an elaborate proposal,” she says with a laugh.
“Would, if that’s what it took,” he mumbles. He knows he’s being a simp, but he’s not missing this chance now that it’s right in front of him, so close he can taste it—literally. Her chapstick lingers on his lips, subtle but enough that he knows it’s all her.
“Lucky for you, Barzy, I think an airport love confession is the perfect amount of elaborate.”
SIMILAR CONTENT
The Mystery of Love*
Third Time’s the Charm*
Adore You
#mat barzal fic#hockey fic#hockey imagine#nhl imagine#nhl fic#mat barzal fanfiction#mat barzal imagine#mat barzal x oc#hockey fanfiction#nhl fanfiction
276 notes
·
View notes
Text
family heirloom (mat barzal)
day 23 of star’s ficmas
mat barzal x reader
You had been in the kitchen, helping your grandmother with the ham. Mat and you had decided to spend Christmas with your family. You traded where you spent Christmas yearly, last year you had spent it with his family, therefore it was your family’s turn.
Mat was sitting alone on the couch. He had been kicked out of helping in the kitchen, apparently it wasn’t appreciated when he started eating the marshmallows for the sweet potatoes casserole. Your mom saw the opportunity and joined him on the couch.
“Mat honey, I know you spoke to me about wanting to ask (Y/N) that question,” your mom started. Mat froze, looking around to make sure you couldn’t have heard. “Tomorrow morning,” Mat confirmed. It was a plan. Christmas Day morning, before everyone came downstairs, just the two of you. Your cousin had agreed to wake up early to take the pictures and hide behind the couch.
“I want to give you something,” your mom said. Mat had asked your parents for permission to propose. Your mom pulled out the small box that Mat had no idea was next to her. “This is the ring that my husband got from his mother,” she said. The two both turned and looked at you and your grandmother in the kitchen, placing pineapple slices on the ham. “Which is the ring, (Y/N)’s grandmother got from her mother-in-law and so forth.”
“We want (Y/N) to have this ring, pass along when you two give me grandchildren.”
He opened the ring box and his eyes filled with tears. “What ring will you wear?” he asked softly. “Don’t worry honey, I’ve been waiting for you to ask to marry my daughter for years, I had a replica done when she brought you home.”
Mat knew you’d love it. It would be special. Your wedding ring, a ring passed through your family. He shoved the box into his pocket. You walked out of the kitchen and smiled at your mom and Mat sitting together.
“Everything good over here?” you smiled, leaning over the couch and kissing Mat’s cheek. “Perfect,” Mat said.
He could barely sleep, at six in the morning, he was blinking awake. Texting your cousin who was in a room down the hall to get the camera ready. You were exactly happy that your boyfriend decided to wake you up at the crack of dawn. “I just want to see the morning snow with you and I have presents to put under the tree for your nieces.”
You begrudgingly brushed your teeth and Mat kissed the top of your head and smiled in the mirror at your matching pajamas. Both of you were wearing the green pajamas your mom had bought you two.
He brought you downstairs, acting like he was going to get your coat to go outside while you placed the last minute presents under the tree. He wasn’t getting your coat, he was getting the ring he had hidden in his own coat pocket.
“Mat, the presents are under the tree, did you get my coat?” You stood from kneeling, turning and finding Mat standing there without coats. “Mat? I thought we were going outside.”
“I want to do something before. (Y/N) I have loved you since the moment I met you. I have wanted to marry you the moment you agreed to be my girlfriend. The only regret I have is not asking you sooner.” Mat Barzal sank to one knee, hands shaking like they did the day he was drafted into the NHL, shaking like they did the day he was knocking on your door to pick you up for your first date. “Will you marry me?”
You choked on your words, wiping at tears you suddenly became aware of. “Yes, yes,” you finally got out. Mat stood, holding your hand still as he slipped the ring on. You gasped. “My mom’s ring? That she got from my grandma?”
You remember trying it on when you were a kid, playing in her jewelry box, there was a new level of emotions. “Passing it down the family line,” he smiled as he pulled you in for a kiss.
#mat barzal#mathew barzal#mat barzal fanfiction#mat barzal fic#mat barzal x reader#mat barzal imagine#mathew barzal imagine#ny islanders imagine#nhl fanfic#nhl imagine#hockey imagine#star’s ficmas
226 notes
·
View notes
Text
New York Luck
Pairing: Mat Barzal x Reader
Summary: After a lovely holiday, your partner breaks up with you and so you turn to your only friend in the city.
Word Count: 1055
A/N: I'm not super happy with this. I feel like it's rushed but I want to put it out anyway.
<< PREVIOUS
THE MASTERLIST JOIN THE TAGLIST HOCKEY DISCORD
Why is it that every time you come to New York, something bad happens. The last time you had gotten your shitty diagnosis. This time your current boyfriend and yourself had decided to go on a holiday to Hawaii for a week and of course, an hour after landing back in New York he decided to break your heart.
Something about not being ready for a relationship. Apparently. And here you were ready to tell him I love you on your holiday but held back because he was a little distant at night. That’s why you’re now standing in a Walmart; wearing a pair of sunglasses trying to find food.
Sadly you can’t even go home. In three days you have to have another surgery. A different one to the last time you were in New York. Now you’re stuck in the city, alone and crying your eyes out. Dealing with health issues and a break up. What a great combo. And to make things worse, you can’t even drink away your emotions!
Aisle by aisle, you grab chocolate, some cupcakes, cheese and crackers, a bit of everything. Oh and a bottle of coke, can’t forget it. That’s when you heard a familiar voice calling your name. You turned to where the voice came from.
“Mat?”
One of the few people you knew in the city. Mat wasn’t a stranger to you. Quite the opposite actually. The pair of you grew up together then reconnected later on once he had been drafted. After a couple hook ups since the reunion, you two were close when you did meet up.
“Are you okay?” Mat questions, spying your reddened cheeks just under your glasses.
“I uh… Yeah,” You tried to brush it off. Discreetly wiping the stray tears that dripped down your cheeks. “Just some personal stuff.”
The hockey player wasn’t buying it. He had known you long enough to see through your lies. Even if they were really bad like the one you just told. “Okay, what’s up? I know that’s a lie. You were literally just in Hawaii.”
“Stalking my insta?” You joke weakly.
“Gotta see what my favourite girl is up to.”
That made your heart hurt more. Here Mat was calling you that where as your ex could barely call you his girlfriend in front of his friends. God, you thought your relationship was great. Fuck. How could you be so blind.
“Yeah we got back this morning and then he broke up with me an hour after we landed.”
Mat immediately brought you in for a hug. “Shit. He’s an asshole for that.”
“Doesn’t help I have surgery friday,” You add, sniffling.
“Another one?” Mat sighs. “He’s a coward for breaking up with you before that. It’s a dick move.”
You shrug off the comment. “I’d rather him do it now then drag it out. Now I can just focus on myself. Gonna get snacks and have a night in my hotel. Maybe get ice cream from the place next door.”
“Can I join?” Mat asked.
“Are you sure?”
Matt agreed and the two of you finished grabbing snacks for the night and finished Mat’s shopping. He brought groceries for his apartment so the two created a plan. First, drop off Mat’s groceries to his apartment. Then head to your hotel to have a chill night.
You two arrived back at your hotel, which was quite a fancy one since you and your partner had planned to stay there together. First, before retreating to your bedroom, you stopped by the ice cream place and got way too much. Enough that Mat’s nutritionist would cry at the thought of the hockey player consuming all that sugar.
“This is nice.” The two of you walked into the nice hotel room. A modern style hotel room on the 9th floor. A king sized bed in the middle with the bathroom off to the left as you walked in. There was even a window with a blind in the shower. “Have you stayed here before?”
“Yeah, my ex worked nearby so I’d stay when I’d come to visit him,” You respond.
Mat grabbed the bag of snacks and put that on the counter, wrapped you in a hug and dragged you onto the bed. The smell of his cologne filled your senses. Despite your old hook up ways with Mat, the familiar scent still gave you butterflies.
“I wanna have a shower and get into my pyjamas,” You sighed, pulling away from Mat. You grabbed some clothes and went to go to the bathroom when a sulking sound came from the boy laying on your bed. When you looked at him, he was pulling the puppy's eyes. “What? Do you wanna join?”
“Please?” You giggled and agreed, leaving him to join you when he wished. “Thank youuuu!”
The bathroom was really modern. A large mirror in front of the sink and a huge shower with a rainfall head. Your favourite type of shower. After turning on the water to your preferred temperature, you stripped and got into the shower. The water felt calming as you stood under the stream.
“Heya,” Mat mutters as he slips into the shower.
You leaned into the hockey player as he wrapped his arms around you. This wasn’t the first time you had showered with him. But let’s just say usually, a simple shower wasn’t just that.
“Are you okay?” Mat asks as you’re unusually quiet around him. That question just makes you break. A flood of emotions coming through. Mat was quick to pull you closer, tight against his naked body as you started to sob. “He’s an idiot.”
“What’s wrong with me?” You cried.
“Nothing. I promise you it’s him. He’s the worst person for doing this to you. He’s the problem.”
Once you had calmed down and the two of you had finished washing, you changed into your pyjamas and cuddled up on bed with a ton of snacks surrounding the pair of you. Mat had signed into his Disney. You allowed him to pick what the two of you would watch for the night. When you saw the intro it solidified the hidden feeling for him. It was your favourite show.
“Thanks for this,” You mutter to Mat.
The brunette kissed the top of your head. “Always.”
TAG LIST
@findapenny @mp0625 @hischierhaze @11zegras @lvrzegras @francesfarhadi @cixrosie @daisysthings
#mat barzal imagine#mat barzal imagines#mat barzal x reader#mat barzal blurb#mat barzal rpf#mat barzal fic#mat barzal fanfiction#New york islanders imagine#new york islanders imagines#new york islanders x reader#new york islanders fanfiction#new york islanders fic#new york islanders blurb#nhl imagine#nhl imagines#nhl x reader#nhl fanfiction#nhl fic#nhl rpf#nhl blurb#hockey blurb#hockey rpf#hockey imagine#hockey imagines#hockey fic#swissboyhisch imagine#swissboyhisch
180 notes
·
View notes
Text
Champion In The Bed
mat barzal x model!fem!reader
a visceral in doses fic
warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT (very little spanking, teasing, and slightly edited) let me know if I missed anything
takes place February 2024
You follow Mat’s gaze as you’re sitting, straddling his lap and leaning back on your hands. He ogles your jersey and backwards cap clad form, and it’s not just any jersey, it’s his all star skills jersey. The material hangs off your body as it’s too big for you, but it does a nice job at hiding your black lingerie. His eyes pick up on the way you come off shy, but your fingers fiddling with his happy trail tells him otherwise. His hands rub your thighs and he subtly goes higher until they’re hidden under the jersey. Your body breaks out in chills just from his touch alone.
Everything feels like it’s in slow motion. It’s obvious that it’s Mat’s goal to tease you until you’re at your wits end. You attempt remaining stoic so he doesn’t know just how bad you want him, but each time he licks his lips or lets his eyes dip down to your covered up cunt, you feel your resolve start to disappear. It doesn’t help that he’s completely naked underneath you. His length stands at attention, waiting to be touched by you.
“Maty,” you whisper and softly adjust yourself so you’re leaning in closer to him.
“What, pretty girl?” He tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear after pulling his cap off your head, and you so badly want to suck his fingers into your mouth.
“I’m so proud of you. My hotshot, hockey boyfriend who is an all star. Fuck the skills comp, at least you can get me to cum. Plus, you looked so sexy in your jersey,” you whisper the praise in his ear, nipping at the lobe to get a small moan out of him.
“Not as sexy as you look in it,” he compliments as the tip of his nose trails along a vein in your neck. Your smooth, sweet perfume consumes him.
“Let me show you how proud I am. Let me ride you,” you plead, letting your lips on his jaw persuade him. You slip his cap back onto his head, backwards of course. He’s the hottest person you’ve ever seen, and it makes you insanely wet, you can feel it pooling in your underwear.
Your hips start to move on top of him, but his hands quickly land on your hips to halt your movements. You let out a disappointed huff that makes him chuckle.
“I thought this was about me?” He tuts and you nod your head in agreement.
“Then you’re going to be my good girl and wait until I’m ready for you to show me just how proud you are,” he chastises with a spank delivered to your ass. You let out a faint moan and throw your head back in frustration. He’s touching you but not enough and not where you need him most.
He lifts the jersey halfway up your torso, fingertips gliding over your soft skin. He unveils your see through, lacy panties. You notice the way his jaw clenched and the way his hands gripped the jersey tighter. He is having a tough time, too.
“As much as I love you wearing my jersey, I prefer you naked,” he grabs your chin, lips encompassing yours.
Your hands press into his chest. The feeling of his strong muscles drives you crazy. He slowly pulls the jersey off of you, watching the way you shiver and the way your nipples grow hard.
“Fuck. Look at you. My girl is so sexy.”
He presses a kiss to your neck and softly sucks on your skin until his mark is left behind. His lips move down to the tops of your breasts while he thumbs at your nipples over your lacy bra. You subconsciously arch into his touch, getting him to unclasp your bra expertly with one hand. He sends you a cocky smirk and a wink, and if you weren’t already soaked, that’d probably do the trick.
His thumbs tuck into the thin straps of your thong before sliding back out. He drags a finger from your bellybutton down to the top of your underwear. Before you can even figure out what he’s doing, Mat rips your thong in half.
“That was brand new,” you gasp.
“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll buy you a lot more when we get home,” he shushes you.
He fiddles with your “13” pendant on the chain around your neck before he pushes you to lean back like you originally were.
“Baby, please. Let me fuck you, please,” you beg as he starts to fist his cock.
He bites on his lip -something he does when he’s being a tease- and nudges your clit with his angry and leaking tip. You let out the sweetest moan and try to move your hips for some kind of friction. Sadly, he stills your movements and shoots you a warning glare. He suddenly lifts you up, pulling you closer and slipping his length in between your folds.
“C’mon, pretty girl. Make a mess,” he instructs you, guiding your hips back and forth until you start to move on your own.
Your hips start slow, trying to get used to the pleasure of this type of teasing. The more wet you become, the easier it is to grind against his length. Your hands rest on his broad shoulders for support and you let your arousal coat your boyfriend.
Your cunt practically jerks him off without him actually being inside of you, and you make sure to rub your clit against the veins of his shaft. Your pleasure drags out along his girth, moans spilling from the seam of your lips. His eyes are glued to the way you work yourself on him, feeling himself start to pulse. Your sticky slickness is a good look on him.
The look of lust that washes over your features turns him on even more, because he’s the one who’s making you feel this way.
“I think I’m going to cum,” you whisper. The pressure on your clit and the fact that Mat’s letting you make a mess on him drives you fast to an orgasm.
“Not yet,” he says, lifting your body off his lap and placing you on his thigh.
Your body is already thrumming, and your orgasm is lingering in your stomach ready to burst at Mat’s signal. You grind against his thick thigh, the hard muscle stroking your clit just right. He flexes the muscles in his thigh and then relaxes them. The action sends a vibration through you and that electricity drives you to the edge. You're barely holding onto your release, but the sensation is quickly making you crumble. You buck your hips faster and you hear the blood rushing to your ears as you continue to throb on top of him. Your wet cunt contracts around nothing and you so badly want his dick inside of you.
“Please, Maty. I need you. I want you inside of me,” you plead and he quickly hauls you off his thigh and pushes into your pussy in a quick stroke.
Your arms lock around his neck as you bounce on his cock, body on fire with how deep he hits inside of you. Your breasts sway in front of him and he shoves his face between the supple flesh. His mouth ravages your skin until you’re left a whimpering mess.
You rut up against him, screams clawing up your throat each time his tip massages your sweet spot. Your hands grab onto the bill of his cap, pulling it back to make tufts of hair stick out and stick to his forehead.
“Yes! Yes! Oh my god. Right there, baby. Fuck yes,” you let the scream rip through your entire body as heat and tingles start to spread beyond your stomach. You bounce down harder as your pussy continues to take him deeper. His hands grip your ass to try to slow you down, but the way your arousal drips down his shaft makes him lose his sanity.
“You better not cum. I can feel your little pussy squeezing down on me,” he grips your throat and speaks into your mouth as you slant your lips over his.
“I’m gonna cum,” you cry, mouth opening in a loud moan during your wet kiss.
Mat abruptly pulls out of you, ignoring your whimpers as he rises to his knees. He loops his arms under your knees, picking you up so your body is completely under his control. He thrusts back into you, using his grip on your hips to slam you down on him.
“Harder,” you whine, throwing your head back. Your chest heaves and you try to match his thrusts but his grip is too tight. You’ll have delicious fingerprints on the dips of your hips later. You feel your body start to shake, your orgasm looming over you. The way Mat bulges in your stomach drags him to the brink of his orgasm.
“You’re so sexy, baby. My needy girl, you like the way my cock feels deep inside of you?” He questions cockily. He knows you're enjoying it by the way your eyes keep rolling to the back of your head and the way you quiver in his grip.
“Yes, Barzy, yes!” You shout, looking dazedly at your man. His cap sits prettily on his head, his chain bounces with his movements, and the way he glows in sweat makes you dizzy. A new flurry of fire rushes to the tips of your fingers and toes. Your pussy clenches in desire.
“I’m gonna cum,” you cry.
“Cum for me, pretty girl,” he grants your wish, pounding into your boneless body.
Moans spill from his mouth as your warm, slick walls flutter around his cock and your orgasm surges through your body. Your all star looks deep into your eyes as he continues to drill into you until your nonsensical mewls become mixed with his grunts.
“Cum for me, baby,” you rasp.
He pulls out, laying you back on the bed and strokes his cock. His fist moves fast. A red flush blooming on his neck and chest as he feels his balls tighten.
“Yeah, baby. Just like that. My hot ass, all star boyfriend. Just like that, baby. Cum for me,” you spur him on, circling your clit for extra motivation.
“Fuck,” he whimpers as ropes of cum squirt onto your stomach.
You scoop some of his expense with your finger and pop it into your mouth.
“I love you,” he says as you obscenely moan around your digit.
Mat pulls your finger out of your mouth and replaces it with his tongue, making you even more breathless.
“I love you, baby. I’m so proud of you,” you press a chaste kiss to his lips and chest. One hand rests on his back while your other rests on the back of his neck, fiddling with the hair hidden underneath his hat. Your legs tighten around his hips to keep him close.
“Never leave my side,” he requests, tracing the pendant of your necklace.
“Never,” you assure him, combing your fingers through his hair as he cuddles into you, head resting on your chest and a hand placed on your stomach.
There’s nothing that can be compared to this feeling.
a/n: This was written fairly quickly so sorry if it’s all over the place. Enjoy!!
#mat barzal#mat barzal fanfiction#mat barzal fluff#mat barzal angst#mat barzal blurb#mat barzal x reader#mat barzal smut#mat barzal imagine#mat barzal fic#nhl imagine#nhl fic#new york islanders#visceral in doses
330 notes
·
View notes
Text
sick day | mat barzal
summary: Mat comes home from a roadie and takes care of his family
warnings: throwing up, so much fluff
a/n: y’all asked for dad Mat! enjoy this fluffy piece!
xoxo
nina
Mat was just coming off a four day roadie when you called. The plane had just touched down in New York and he’d turned his phone on only to find you calling.
“Hey baby, we just landed.”
“Mat don’t come home.”
Your words made Mat freeze, Tito looking at him in concern as his face dropped.
“W-what? Baby whatever it is we can-“
“No, no, no,” you rushed out as you realized what Mat thought. “No, god not like that. I’m sorry. We all have the stomach flu and I don’t want you getting sick. All three of us having been throwing up since yesterday morning.”
Mat let out a breath of relief as he leaned back into his seat, “I’m still coming home baby. If you’re all sick I want to take care of you.”
“But you have playoffs right around the corner and I-“
“I’ll see you soon,” Mat’s answer has you heaving a sigh, knowing that arguing with him would be useless. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
+
Half an hour later Mat walked through the front door just as your five year old son Luca puked into the bowl on his lap. You groaned as Rosie, your two year old, burrowed further into your chest with a pained moan. You met Mat’s eyes over their heads and sighed, “Welcome to the fun house.”
Mat dropped his bags by the door and toed his shoes off before going to help Luca. Once he was done throwing up Mat gathered him in his arms and took him upstairs for a bath. You and Rosie both dozed off, your shirt tightly clutched in her hands as she lightly snored.
When you woke up again Rosie was gone and Mat was just coming down the stairs. He smiled at you before he walked over and pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Both kids are bathed and sleeping. How are you feeling mama?”
“Like I got hit by a truck,” you groaned as Mat pulled you into his lap. “Stop, I’m all sweaty and gross and I don’t want to get you sick.”
“I just wanna hold my wife,” Mat groaned as he pulled you closer. “I haven’t seen you in four days.”
You gave up your struggling and settled into Mat’s hold, “And I spent a lot of that time puking my guts out.”
“Why don’t you go take a bath and I’ll watch out for the kids,” you eyed Mat skeptically but he simply met you with an eye roll. “I can handle them babe. Go take care of yourself.”
You begrudgingly walked upstairs, but you couldn’t fight Mat’s thinking as the warm water of the bath soothed your aching muscles. You stayed in far longer than you should have but after getting out you felt a hundred times better.
When you finally trekked back downstairs Rosie was settled on Mat’s hip as he cleared the dishes in the sink. Luca was bundled up on the couch, so you went over to him and pulled him into your lap.
“How are your feeling bubba,” you pressed a kiss to his dark hair as he snuggled close to you. His forehead didn’t feel as warm as earlier so you took that as a win.
“‘m feeling better,” Luca mumbled as he held on tightly to you. “Daddy made toast and I didn’t frow it up.”
You looked up and Mat met your eye over both of your kids heads. He smirked and you swore your heart beat a little faster. You truly couldn’t imagine doing life with anyone but Mat.
The rest of the day went by easily. You all curled up on the couch to watch a movie, Rosie clinging to Mat and refusing to move. Not that Mat was complaining, his daughter tucked in his side as he ran his fingers through her dark curls.
When Luca mentioned that he was hungry Mat was up in an instant to make soup for everyone. Rosie still clung to his chest as he moved around the kitchen and told her everything he was doing. By the time everything was finished Rosie was asleep, arms still tightly wrapped around Mat’s neck.
“I’m gonna go put her down and then I’ll get you both some soup,” Mat leaned down to kiss Luca’s forehead then yours before he headed upstairs with Rosie.
The soup was the perfect thing for your still uneasy stomach. Luca even had a second bowl which made Mat beam with pride. The recipe was from his mom, something he had asked her for the first time Luca had come down with a bad cold. It was a tradition at this point to make it on sick days and you couldn’t complain.
When Luca began to drift off at the table Mat took him upstairs and put him to bed. You began tidying up the kitchen, carefully washing out dishes when Mat came back, “Let me finish cleaning babe.”
“But I-“
“You’re still sick. Go lay down, I’ll be up in a minute,” Mat pressed a kiss to your temple before pushing you towards the stairs with a playful swat to your butt.
You took time to do your nighttime routine, feeling better than you had in days. By the time Mat came upstairs you were tucked under the covers and half asleep.
“C’mere baby,” Mat whispered as he slid into bed, arms stretched out toward you. “I missed sleeping next to you.”
You gladly scooted across the bed and settled onto Mat’s chest, his hands slipping under your shirt to rub your back, “Thank you for taking care of us today.”
“That’s my job,” Mat mumbled into your hair. “I promised you in sickness and in health. Just trying to stay true to my vows.”
As you both drifted off to sleep you couldn’t help but think about how grateful you were to have Mat by your side.
#mat barzal#Mat barzal imagine#mat barzal fanfiction#Mat barzal fic#hockey imagine#hockey fic#nhl imagine#nhl fic#nina writes
509 notes
·
View notes
Text
girl at home | mat barzal | part 2
pairing: mat barzal x fem!reader
summary: you’re eighteen when you find yourself pregnant after Mat leaves for hockey. nearly eight years later, Mat finds out about your daughter and you have to deal with the consequences of not telling him about her.
warnings: mentions of pregnancy, lil bit of angst with a sprinkle of fluff and not edited im sorry lol
word count: 2.1k
authors note: *screams internally* thank you guys so much for the love on this story so far. I was super hesitant to post it at first but I am glad you guys like it! I'm posting this a little early but updates will be every sunday from now on. This chapter is kinda sad but happy times are on the way <3 thanks for the feedback, and if you like part 2, let me know!
main masterlist masterpost tag list ask box
Sitting across from Mat for the first time in almost eight years, doesn’t go exactly as planned. He’s waiting for you even though you arrive fifteen minutes before the agreed time, hoping to rid yourself of the anxiety you are feeling which means he’s been here even longer. So you wipe your sweaty palms on your jeans and stride over to where he’s waiting and sit on the chair across from him. He’s staring at his phone so his head jerks up when he hears you.
The first words that come out of his mouth are: “are you sure she’s mine?”
Which, okay, that’s a fair question because you did tell everybody and their grandmother who asked that Mat was not the one who knocked you up. Of course, nobody actually believed you but there were a few people from your high school that believed it. Most girls who had always had a crush on Mat, would say that you cheated on him and obviously Nora couldn’t be his child because for some reason, they never actually accepted that you and Mat were a couple.
So yeah, his question is fair and you did know he would ask.
“Yeah, we can do a paternity test if you don’t believe me,” you say quietly. It’s not something you necessarily want to do, because then you’d have to come up with some reason to tell Nora why she needs to go get her cheek swabbed or blood tested. She’s as stubborn as Mat, and you would probably have to hold her down to get whatever the doctors needed unless she agreed.
“No, I believe you.”
His words take a huge weight off your shoulders but also replace it with a new one. You know Mat, he’s the kindest soul and has the biggest heart and he’s going to want to at least properly meet Nora and might ask to be in her life. In the first few years of her life, there wouldn’t have been anything you wanted more in the world. However, you’ve grown now and so has she. Your number one priority has to be what is best for Nora, and turning her life upside by introducing her to Mat is scary. For both you and her.
And Mat? Despite what he might think, he’s nowhere near prepared to jump into being her dad.
“Can I ask you something?” he says, pulling you from your spiraling thoughts.
“Sure,” you say even though you know what he’s going to ask. It’s a question you’re nowhere near ready to answer but you have no choice now.
“Why? Why didn’t you tell me about her?”
He doesn’t sound as angry as you were expecting, maybe thanks to his dad talking to him but there’s underlying hurt. You try to put yourself in his shoes, trying to think if there was anything in the world that would have stopped you from wanting Nora. You know for a fact that if Mat knew, he would have been in her life somehow but you’re not sure if he would have given up the NHL to do it, and that’s exactly why you didn’t tell him.
“I didn’t want to hold you back,” you say softly, watching his facial expression change. He just looked confused before but now he looks sad almost. His eyes close for a moment and when he opens them, you feel like you’ve been punched in the stomach.
“I thought you knew me better than that.”
“I did! I do,” you argue. “If you knew about her, it would have kept you away from everything you worked hard for. Your dream was the NHL, Mat. If I told you about her, it would’ve crushed that dream. We didn’t want to hold you back.”
“Yeah,” he scoffs. “Who’s we? You and my parents? You shouldn’t have made that choice for me, it wasn’t right.”
“This is a child we’re talking about Mat. Were you really ready at eighteen to drop everything and raise one?”
“Were you?”
“No,” you say truthfully. “But I didn’t have a jersey with my name on the back waiting for me.”
He doesn’t say anything and for a moment, it’s silent between the two of you with background chatter from the cafe. You’re sure that he’s just going to get up and storm out but he takes a deep breath and slowly exhales, knotting his fingers together.
“I wish you’d told me,” he mumbles before looking up at you. “I would’ve stayed.”
“I know,” you whisper but you can’t meet his gaze.
. . .
You’re picking Nora up from her day camp a couple of days later when you get a message from Mat asking if he can meet up with you. There’s been no contact since the two of you last met, having left with a short goodbye to pick up Nora. He hadn’t asked to see her and you hadn’t offered so you thought maybe he would leave it but you should’ve known better.
You fire off a sure, see you in twenty, and debate on whether to bring Nora with you or drop her off with your mom. Mat might not even want to see her, but if he’s reaching out to you again it’s probably about her.
“Wanna go meet my friend?” you ask, looking back at her to gauge her reaction. She might just want to go home after all day at camp, but she perks up immediately when you ask.
“The one from the grocery store?” she squeals but narrows her eyes and gives you a suspicious look. “Hey, I thought you said he was a stranger.”
Shoot.
“Well, he was to you,” you try to explain. “I knew him when I was younger.”
“As young as me?”
“As young as you,” you tell her and she grins, nodding her head and shouting an excited yes, so you pull out of the parking-lot and start towards Mat’s parents house. You’re a little nervous to be around his family after dancing around them for so long after Nora was born. Meeting up with Liana wasn’t as hard as you were expecting, but you’re not so sure about his parents. Aside from the occasional awkward greeting, you haven’t properly spoken to them since before Nora and you’re starting to think maybe bringing her will just make things worse but before you can change your mind, you’re parking your car in the driveway.
He’s sitting outside on the porch swing when you step out, and his eyes widen in surprise when Nora climbs out of the car. He definitely wasn’t expecting you to bring her but this could be a good test. If he decides he wants to be part of her life, having all their interactions scheduled wouldn’t be a good start so you decide to just jump in the deep end.
“Hey,” you call out before grabbing Nora’s hand and making your way towards him. He’s already making his way down the pathway and meets you about half way, pulling you into a surprising hug before crouching down to Nora’s level.
“Hey Nora,” he says, smiling gently and offering her his hand to shake just like last time. “Do you remember me?”
She bobs her head once, accepting his hand but tries to hide her face in your leg. Of course now, she’s practicing Stranger Danger, instead of blurting out her full name.
“Mom made dinner, if you guys are hungry?”
Family dinner is just about the last thing you want to do but Nora perks up at the idea of food so you agree, following Mat into the all too familiar home you spent so much time in as a kid. Not much has changed, you realize as you look around the foyer. It feels a bit like coming home but you’re not sure if you were missed.
“Smells good,” you say, trying to make conversation and Mat smiles awkwardly.
“Yeah, mom is making your favorite.”
How she can remember your favorite meal is beyond you, but you’re not about to miss a peace offering and this is certainly one.
“My favorite food is spaghetti,” Nora informs him and you watch Mat nod seriously, taking in anything she says. You try not to look too deep into it because even though he knows she’s biologically his, Nora is still just a cute kid talking a mile a minute about anything and Mat has probably been trained on how to handle excited children.
When the three of you make your way to the living room, with Nora still chatting excitedly, you stop short when you see a picture frame on the wall.
It’s you. Well, it’s you and Mat at graduation. Arms wrapped around each other and Mat kissing your forehead. If you look close enough, you can see past your smile and see the sadness in your eyes. This was before you were pregnant but you were already grieving the loss of Mat. He left for hockey shortly after and your only reminder was the brown haired little girl still talking to Mat.
“Is that you, mama?” Nora asks suddenly, standing on the tips of her toes so she can get a better view. Her nose scrunches up and she looks at the photo, then Mat, and then the photo again.
“Oh,” she says and you sigh.
“Let’s go see Mat’s parents.”
Nadia and Mike are waiting in the kitchen, trying to make it seem like they weren’t listening in on the conversation. Liana is sitting at the table, reading a book casually but you know she was probably listening too.
“This is Mike, Nadia, and Liana,” you tell Nora who lights up at Nadia’s name.
“My middle name is Nadia!” She squeals and you stare at the floor, not wanting to meet any of their eyes. Someone - probably Nadia - inhales sharply and then lets out what sounds like a sob.
“That’s a beautiful name,” Liana says and you look up to see her looking at Nora with a soft smile on her face. Mike has an arm wrapped around Nadia who’s trying, and failing, to hide tears. You’re glad Liana is trying to distract Nora because you’re about two seconds away from crying and Mat must be able to tell because you feel his hand lightly touch your back. His hand lingers for a moment until you take a deep breath and blow it out steadily.
Then his hand is gone and you feel the loss right away.
“Hey, we have a swing outside in the backyard,” Mat tells Nora. “Wanna go check it out while dinner finishes cooking?”
He looks at you for permission so you nod, smiling at Nora when he takes her hand and leads her outside. Liana follows shortly after and then it’s just you, Nadia and Mike. Both their eyes are red rimmed and Nadia only hesitates for a moment before striding over and pulling you into a tight hug.
“Thank you, my girl,” she whispers and all you can manage is a nod because you’ll probably cry now if you try to talk. The two of you just stand there for a couple minutes until Mike chuckles. You pull away, wiping your eyes to see him standing in front of the patio door so you make your way over to see what he’s looking at and almost start crying again.
Mat and Nora are playing what looks like a game of tag, Liana laughing at them while trying to film. It’s exactly the kind of thing you had sometimes allowed yourself to imagine.
“Would you look at that,” Mike says softly.
“He’s a natural,” Nadia agrees. “Always was.”
Then she turns to you with a small smile on her face. “I know the struggles of being a mom. You have to do what’s best for your kids…” she hesitates, gazing outside before looking back at you. “He wants to try, if you’ll give him the chance. We’d all love to get to know Nora.”
You would love nothing more than to have Mat’s family in Nora’s life. For her to get to know her other grandparents but you can’t help but be scared of what could happen if you let Mat into her life. She could get attached only to have him ripped away when he has to go back to New York but you can’t have Nora in Nadia, Mike, and Liana’s life and not Mat’s.
But maybe you owe it to Mat, to give him a chance at having a place in her life after not telling him about her all this time. You were doing what you thought was right - what was right - but if Mat really wants to be part of her life, maybe it’s time.
You look outside and see Nora on Mat’s shoulders with Liana chasing them, before looking back at the woman in front of you and smiling softly.
“I think Nora would love that.”
tag list: @dasiysthings
#hockey imagines#allies writing#nhl fanfiction#hockey fanfiction#nhl imagines#hockey imagine#mat barzal x reader#mat barzal imagine#mat barzal fanfiction#mat barzal fluff#mat barzal fic
525 notes
·
View notes
Text
second chances ʚɞ M.Barzal
summary: in which you and Mat broke up two months ago, and you go back to your once shared apartment in New York to pick up your things. happy ending <3
You had always been enamored with New York City, with its bright lights, bustling streets, and endless possibilities. Even now, making your way to the familiar apartment building you had lived in only a few months ago, you could feel the buzz of the city. You always heard New York was the place of endless opportunities, where dreams came true, you never thought it was going to be the place where all your dreams came to die.
You sigh as you unlock the door of the apartment and walk in. You knew Mat wouldn't be here, you planned it that way. As you looked around the apartment your heart felt heavy. This had been your home with Mat for the past three years, the place where you had shared so many happy memories, and so many milestones. Your first Thanksgiving, Christmas, birthdays. All celebrated here, filled with laughter and love. But now it felt cold and empty, and it looked exactly the same as the day you had left. As if Mat couldn't bear to change anything.
As you walked around the apartment, memories flooded back to you. The way Mat used to cook breakfast for you on lazy Sunday mornings, the way he would playfully tickle you until you couldn't breathe, the way he would hold you close and whisper sweet nothings in your ear. For a moment a strong sense of longing hits you and you just want to curl up in the bed and pretend everything is fine. Like you're just waiting for Mat to come home from practice, like you always did.
Your lips curl into a soft smile seeing the thermostat is still the same temperature. You would have thought Mat would change it, he always complained you liked it too hot and it felt like he was living in a sauna. You hauled the big suitcase out of the closet, opened it and began emptying your closet.
An hour later most of your clothes were packed and you decided to empty your bedside table. Taking a seat on your side of the bed, a picture catches your attention and you gently pick it up. It was a photo of you and Mat on vacation about a year ago. Mat was standing in the shallow waters of the Hawaiian sea, the biggest grin on his face, with you on his back, laying a kiss on his cheek. You smile remembering the fun time you had with not only Mat, but his family as well on that trip. You hadn't spoken to them since you and Mat broke up.
The realization hits you hard, and you feel a pang of sadness in your chest. Mat's family had always been so welcoming and kind to you, treating you like one of their own. You had so many happy memories with them, from family dinners to holiday celebrations to summer vacations. But now, with your relationship with Mat over, it felt like you were losing them too. You wondered if they knew about the breakup, and what they thought about it. Would they take sides, or try to stay neutral? Would they miss you, or forget about you altogether?
You take a deep breath, trying to help you clear your head and calm down, but it doesn't really help and soon the tears are falling faster than you can catch them. You lay down on the bed and hug Mat's pillow to your chest, crying even harder when you realize it smells just like him. You only wanted to allow yourself a moment to come to terms with everything that's happened but you feel your eyes flutter shut, exhaustion taking over and your body finally feels home enough to shut down and go to sleep.
A few hours later you wake up to Mat gently shaking you awake.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep. I was just here to pick up a few of my things," you say softly
"It's okay. I'm glad you got some rest. Your mom says you haven't been sleeping well," he says and brushes his thumb over the dark circles under your eyes.
"You talk to my mom?" you ask
"Twice a week," he replies
"How long have you been home?"
"A few hours. I woke you up cause I made dinner, thought you might be hungry," he says
As Mat plates up the food, you go to the bathroom and splash some cold water on your face, hoping it would make your eyes less puffy.
"Why didn't you tell me you were coming home?" Mat asks as you enter the kitchen.
"I emailed you I was coming by this week, to pick up my things" you reply
"You know I never check my email," Mat says.
You did know, which is why you didn't text.
"You didn't wanna see me," Mat accuses when you don't answer.
"I thought it might be easier to this if you weren't here," you concede
"Easier? What part of this is easy? The part where I can't focus because I miss you so much I can't breathe, never mind play up to the standard I'm supposed to.... or the fact that you look like you haven't slept in months..." Mat says facing you.
"I just didn't know if you would want to see me Mat, the way we left things weren't exactly civil," you say
"I didn't mean the things I said that day, and I know you didn't mean the things you said either. We were tired and emotional and it wasn't the right time to discuss everything that had been bothering us. I'm sorry," Mat apologizes and steps closer to you.
"I'm sorry too," you say
"Can you honestly tell me that this break up has been better for either one of us?" Mat whispers taking your face between the palm of his hands.
"Just because we didn't discuss the problems in the right way, doesn't mean the problems weren't there Mat," you say.
"I'm not saying the problems weren't there...I'm saying these last two months have been hell for me. And it put some things into perspective. I know most of our problems stem from hockey, and I'm telling you that if you asked me to I would give it up for you," Mat says
"I would never ask you to do that," you whisper
"I know, because you understand how much it means to me, and you love me for it. And you understanding that is one of the things I love about you. But I also accept that I took advantage of that understanding and neglected you and our relationship at times. I take responsibility for that...I'm gonna make mistakes, we both are. And I know I'm probably gonna make a lot more mistakes than you and I'm sorry, but I'm asking you to love me anyway." Mat says and you tear up hearing his voice crack at the end.
"I missed you," you say and he smiles
"I missed you more," Mat says and presses his lips to yours.
You melt into the kiss, feeling all the love and longing you had been holding back for the past few months wash over you. It feels like coming home, like everything is finally falling into place.
The two of you spend the rest of the night talking and cuddling, catching up on everything that has happened since you last saw each other. It feels like no time has passed at all, and yet so much has changed. But you are both committed to making things work, rebuilding your relationship, and finding a way to move forward together. As you fall asleep in Mat's arms that night, you feel a sense of peace and contentment that you haven't felt in months. Maybe New York could be the city of second chances as well.
#⇢ ˗ˏˋ 📂 bedsyandco works!#⇢ ˗ˏˋ 📜 cam's fics#hockey fic#nhl fic#hockey imagine#hockey blurb#nhl fanfiction#nhl blurb#nhl imagine#mat barzal fic rec#mat barzal fanfiction#mat barzal fic#mat barzal x reader#mat barzal fluff#mat barzal x yn#hockey x reader
593 notes
·
View notes
Text
neighbor - m.barzal
masterlist
requested: n
pairings: mat barzal x fem!reader
warnings: mentions of alcohol + mentions of first round 2023 playoffs
a/n: feedback is always appreciated xx
he’s your neighbor for Christs sake, but you can’t help but stare. ever since the very attractive brunette across the way started opening his blinds more, you couldn’t help but feel your eyes gravitate more towards that window.
and how could you not? half the time he’s in an unbuttoned linen shirt and sweatpants walking around his apartment, while the other half he’s dressed to the nines in a suit and tie. needless to say, he’s quite nice to stare at.
he hasn’t caught on, but every so often he pretends to stretch a couple feet away in front of the window to stare at you. he pretty much knows your morning routine, how you get up in nothing but a sports bra and sweatpants, you start your coffee pot first thing, and usually play with your cat for the next thirty minutes before you disappear to work.
he’s seen you in your outfits for the bars to your next morning hungover pajamas, and he’s even seen you when you think nobody else can. it’s okay, he won’t say a thing but he does enjoy the show every so often.
it’s two in the morning when he’s awake, playoffs just about to start his mind can’t help to wander. it’s prompted him to slip outside, enjoy the fresh air to clear his thoughts.
“you look cold.” you say watching his head snap in your direction, you’re met with none other than his eyes. the ones you made bets about how pretty they would be in person, and you were right, they were gorgeous.
“oh,” he says looking down at himself, he’s in nothing but sweatpants and a pair of slides. it didn’t take him until you said something to realize the weather outside his apartment is actually unpleasant, and rather chilly for a man who’s not wearing a shirt.
“I’m y/n, I think my window looks at yours.”
he nods moving over on the bench allowing you to sit, “I’m mat, it’s nice to finally put a name to your face.” he watches you take a seat all the way at the edge, a nervous smile placing your face as you two listen to the sirens and faint voices of the city.
“so why are you awake?” he bites first, pulling his arms across his chest to try and stay warm. it’s too early to invite you back to his place, sit inside his heated space, he’ll just have to make due to keep warm until it’s the right time.
you shrug, “lots to think about, you?” you turn to him and he nods, you watch him run his fingers through his short brown hair. you remember the day he came home with a buzz cut, your friends practically mourned the loss.
“yeah works getting a little competitive I’d say.” he sighs, eyes looking upward at the stars, only a few shine bright in the cities skies. it makes him miss home, the amount of stars he’d see in the sky are much brighter and clearer than the clouded ones of New York.
“is that why you dress up sometimes? sorry, I don’t mean to sound weird I just see you—“
his laugh cuts you off, of all those times you’ve seen him laugh you never expected it to sound like it does against your ears. it brings a smile to your face. “kind of, although I’m supposed to dress clean for work, bosses demand.”
“so that’s why you got a buzz cut?” you ask moving a little closer to him, you can see the goosebumps that decorate his arms.
“that was my own doing.”
“a poor decision if I must say so.” you snap back, watching him roll his eyes in response. he mutters a couple words you can’t hear but you don’t press to figure them out.
“I must say, you’re judging me a lot for someone who wears the same clothes three days in a row.” he sends you a playful wink and you’re thankful for the night lights that don’t cast over your red cheeks of embarrassment.
“I think I’m going to start closing my blinds from you.”
—
he moves in front of his window, suit jack and button up shirt holding two different ties in each hand. holding them up, you move to the window from the kitchen to point at the one you like the most. you’re liking this new found friendship, ever since that late night on the bench, things have been awfully fun and exciting.
you’d go to your window, hold up whatever decision you had and he’d answer with his opinion. you’d see each other on the streets more often than you expected, and sometimes he’d even walk you to your office for work. he was becoming a friend rather than just some neighbor.
“then my friends and I were thinking of going to the bars, you’re more than welcome to come! I’m sure they’d love to meet you.” you nudge his shoulder with your elbow listening to him hiss at the burnt coffee that split over his hand.
“I’d love to but I actually have a date tonight.” he proudly smiles, it’s the first you’d talk about relationships. you always assumed he was single. having not seen a single woman over in his place, unless it was his mother, so it makes since the bachelor was getting lonely in his nice pad.
you’re just not sure why you feel your throat closeup and the saliva in your mouth make it impossible for you to start a sentence.
“but if I change my mind you’ll text me the address?” he stops in front of your office, and all you can do is nod before bidding him a quiet goodbye before rushing up the stairs to the big doors of your building.
when you finally get up there, you heave out a long breath finally feeling your throat clear and salvia dry your mouth. boy, did you have a story to tell your girlfriends tonight.
they were rooting for you two, saying it’s a perfect trope of boy meets girl and boy next door. and yeah maybe you were also rooting for it happen too, because as time went on you developed feelings for him that were more than just a crush. you began to enjoy his company more and more, you just wish maybe he enjoyed it the same amount.
—
when he enters the bar of the location you’ve sent him, it’s not hard to find you. your smile brightens up any room, and can easily be spotted a mile away. after a shitty date, seeing you was all he wanted.
he moves throughout the sweaty bodies, couple of them offer pats to his shoulders congratulating him on the playoffs achievements, but none of those matter. he’s more focused on getting closer to you, and when he does a man that had been blocked by other bodies comes into focus.
he’s got his hand on your hip, as he yells into your ear, whatever it was made you laugh, but nothing like how mat made you laugh. he had the ability to get your full unhinged reaction, your body leaning forward and a snort or two. he thinks it’s cute.
your attention shifts when you recognize that familiar body that’s standing a couple feet away, “mat, you came!” you exclaim, motioning for him to come closer and he does.
“no way you know mat barzal.” the guy you’re talking to is stunned as he extends a hand, mat gladly takes it assuming he’s fan, “I fucking hope the canes destroy you guys.”
mat quick to withdraws his hand from the other guys grip, you give the two a confused look having no clue what they are talking about, “mat barzal, islanders player? please tell me you watch sports.” he laughs. you shake your head slowly looking up at your neighbor, who’s nervously playing with the hairs on the nape of his neck.
“hey man congratulations though!” the guy you’re talking to excuses himself, and you’re pretty sure he won’t be coming back, but that’s fine. mat’s here and from what you remember, it means his date didn’t go as planned.
“so you’re alone, it didn’t go well?” you turn to him and he shrugs a slight nod. he watches you play with the tiny straws in your drink trying to slurp the rest of the liquid.
“how many of those you had?” he chuckles watching you nearly chug half the drink before he jokingly pulls it away from your lips, “easy now.”
“I don’t know, they’ve all been free.”
he laughs watching you sway side to side from the music, but the alcohol that’s following through your body, “why don’t I buy you a glass of water and we can go home?” he offers, you happily nod heading to say goodbye to your friends.
once you’re out the doors of the bar, he drapes his coat around your shoulders and he offers for you to come inside his place. you’re eager to see the rest whether you’ll remember it or not, but you nod following him inside saying hello to his doorman.
when you enter his place most of it isn’t what you expected it to be. it’s minimal decorations, only a few decorative pieces of art work hang on the walls, and a hockey stick hangs above his dinning room table.
“Crosby’s stick. he gave it to me after my first game against him. I nearly cried.” he laughs watching you move across his floors taking in his space, you stop at the infamous window and look inside your apartment.
you can se the hallway that leads to your bedroom, the cat tree where you cat sleeps in, and the living room where you spend most of your time entertaining your boring nights.
“I didn’t realize how much you see of me.” you turn to him, he’s seated on his cream colored couch shaking his head.
“I look over yeah, but I know when to look away.”
“like when?” you dangerously ask, moving to sit beside him on his couch, he positions himself to look at you.
“okay like when you get out of the shower and you have on no towel, I know to look away. I’m not a pervert.” he scoffs having remembered the time his mother was over and nearly had a heart attack at the sight of you.
you gasp, hand covering your mouth, “do not tell me you’ve seen me in nothing but my underwear and bra?!”
he gives you look of confirmation without even saying the words, you hide your face into one of his pillows hearing that beautiful laugh ring your ears, “oh come on! it’s okay, I’m sure you’ve seen me in my underwear before.”
you pull your face away from the pillow with rosy red cheeks, “yeah but that’s different! you walk around in your shorts and nothing on all the time!”
he smirks, “oh so you do watch me?” watching you shove your face into the pillow of embarrassment once more.
“it’s okay, I like knowing it’s you watching me rather than some other girl. I was beginning to think you didn’t notice.”
you pull your face away from the pillow tossing it aside, “what’s that supposed to mean?” you ask, and it’s his faces turn to light up red.
“isn’t it obvious?”
you shake your head, “it’s as obvious as you playing a sport!”
he laughs moving a little closer to you on the couch, “I wouldn’t be asking someone which tie to wear if I didn’t like them a little more than a friend.” he places a hand against your kneecap watching you lean back against his couch.
“you like me more than just a neighbor?”
“I guess it’s not as obvious as I thought it would be.”
you shake your head, “you’re horrible at making things obvious, but it’s okay we can work on it.”
#mat barzal imagine#mat barzal#mat barzal x reader#mat barzal fic#mat barzal fanfiction#mat barzal fluff#mat barzal x y/n#mat barzal x you#hockey imagines#hockey blurb#hockey#hockey imagine#hockey fic#hockey fanfiction#hockey fluff#nhl imagine#nhl imagines#nhl x reader#nhl x you#new york islanders#new york isles#nhl hockey#nhl#nhl fic#nhl fanfiction
530 notes
·
View notes
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
1K notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
domymaddy78
Untitled
deepintheground
drink some tea today
loganscalesaura
I believe in the Magic of Words
m4lufr-u0ibajlc
Sin título
chandlersfe
Chandlers-MF, Fendt, Valtra & Manitou